Pasi Lyytikäinen, composer and doctor: provoking boundaries and turning the wordless into words

Text Minna Hiidensaari Images miika kainu Translation Marko saajanaho

”They didn’t mention this at the Sibelius Academy lectures”, thought composer Pasi Lyytikäinen whilst being dragged by the feet across Kiasma’s floor by his artist colleagues. This performance by the Corridor Group performance art group was part of an Academy of Finland-funded, multidisciplinary art and science project organised by the Doctoral Programme of Artistic Research in Performing Arts.

The project became pivotal for Lyytikäinen’s composing work. Cooperation with professionals representing different arts broadened both his theoretical perception and artistic work.

“That was fantastic. Even though I had thought a lot about combining opera with everyday life, for example, performance art was the discipline I knew the least about until then. I consider multidisciplinarity an important part of growing into an artist.”

The author-based data gathered through the project ended up in Lyytikäinen’s doctoral dissertation, On the Thresholds of a Composer. From Noisiness to Toniness in the Context of Experimental Music Theatre. The goal of the thesis, which was reviewed at the Uniarts’ Sibelius Academy this April, was to produce scientific data about the phenomena of an artistic, interactive process.

Lyytikäinen’s doctorate includes three types of compositions: concert works, experimental opera performances from the Oopperaa arjessa (Opera in Everyday Life) trilogy, and the stage production Der Unveröffentlichte Film der Eva Braun (Eva Braun’s Unreleased Film), a cabaret-influenced monologue opera performed in a theatre space.

The composer describes environments with a characteristic soundscape as “sound-specific spaces”. One example of these is the Kuopio marketplace, whose sounds Lyytikäinen integrated into his Oopperaa arjessa III: Tori work.

“The composition includes style pastiches such as speech written for a bass-baritone, folk song, and an accordion being played. I also added the Savonian dialect into the notation.”

The seeds of the doctorate were sown as early as eighteen years ago. After graduating from the Sibelius Academy, Lyytikäinen received many commissions for compositions, and as he worked to complete the commissions, he gradually began to think about something completely different, such as ideas of combining everyday life and opera.

On the boundary of noisiness and toniness

The urban soundscape of the Kamppi shopping centre served as the starting signal for the primary core theme of the doctoral thesis.

According to Lyytikäinen, city noise is generally considered a negative that should be muted by listening to music or focusing on one’s thoughts, for example. He inverted the approach by assuming the role of an active listener in the shopping centre. From this change in the angle of perception, it was a short road to integrating Kamppi’s sounds in a composition.

Lyytikäinen is interested in utilising the tensions between noisiness and toniness in stage music. In his opinion, noise strongly guides the listening experience.

In everyday speech, noise is a synonym for unwanted sound, whereas in music it refers to sound without tone. Sound art has been combining noise such as engine or machinery sounds with melodies since the 1900s. For example, French radio engineer and composer Pierre Schaeffer recorded train sounds and produced an entire work out of them.

“Noise is often used to highlight various boundaries in music. For example, the cymbals in Sibelius’ Finlandia represent noise. In my thesis, I use the term ‘noise’ to refer to both desirable and undesirable elements in music.”

Lyytikäinen explains the term “sole” is in turn used to describe an intermediate sound with both noisiness and toniness. Such sounds include church bells and low-pitched timpani.

There is usually limited space for noise in classical music. This space grew in Lyytikäinen’s artistic work.

“I realised that the audible noise forming in the composition is an essential part of the piece’s tone.”

Like trying to dance architecture

Artistic doctoral studies typically consist of a work portion and a theoretical text analysis. For a music researcher, the job offers additional twists.

“Putting the phenomena of composition art into words is difficult, because the work is wordless by its nature. It is as challenging as trying to dance architecture.”

During his doctoral studies, Lyytikäinen felt artistic and research work to closely resemble each other. Both may take you to an interesting side path to study something for quite a while until you realise this side path is not part of the core theme.

During his doctoral studies, Lyytikäinen felt artistic and research work to closely resemble each other.

”My thesis advisor Tuire Kuusi is a tremendous researcher. From a research point of view, she pulled me back to the ground whenever I would fly up into the clouds.”

The artistic portion of Lyytikäinen’s doctorate – partitures comprising hundreds of pages and their performances, were reviewed a year ago.

“The finishing stage of the thesis portion was hard work. I had to unwrap the theoretical structure of a 100-page text and reformat it.”

The thesis defence opened with songs composed by Lyytikäinen, based on poems by Tua Forsström. The songs were performed by pianist Anna Kuvaja and singer Tuuli Lindeberg.

“This lyrical and lingering series of songs from 2009, which is part of my degree, remains one of my most significant works to me personally.”

Lyytikäinen was especially expecting the interesting, even critical discussion portion of the thesis defence. The thesis defence, a rarity in music, also interested the public. More than 200 people attended the event, held in the Musiikkitalo’s Camerata hall in April.

On rails to the south and becoming a composer

Music has been a constant presence in Lyytikäinen’s life. Singing was common in the family of the future composer growing up in Lapinlahti. The shy boy became so enthralled by the accordionist character in Esa Pakarinen’s film Lentävä kalakukko (Esa “Flies” to Kuopio) that when he was eleven, he asked for permission to play on trains. This permission was granted by the Regional Transport Manager of Iisalmi. An aunt sewed a train conductor’s outfit for the performer.

“Playing on trains helped me develop a rock-solid routine. I also treated my shyness through that. I became visible. I had a great drive to perform and still do.”

The story that started on the rails was completed a couple of decades later at Lyytikäinen’s Pasimusic festival. A man arrived and introduced himself as Osmo Lappi, the person who had given the eleven-year-old Lyytikäinen permission to play. Lappi revealed that in granting Lyytikäinen that permission, he had knowingly breached regulations.

“I learned from him that in life, you must say yes when you can. And sometimes even when you practically can’t.”

After finishing his compulsory education, Lyytikäinen attended the Finnish Defence Forces’ Military Music School in Lahti. He was considering a career as a military conductor.

During an orchestral rehearsal, Lyytikäinen begin to wonder why certain things had a better tone than others. He started jotting down his musical ideas and mustered up the courage to present his ideas to a few theory teachers that did composing work. The sharp-eyed teachers recommended Lyytikäinen apply to the Sibelius Academy. The doors of the Academy flew open on his first attempt in 1997.

Whilst studying, Lyytikäinen thought that if he failed to find employment as a composer, he would start to teach music theory. When his piano duo piece won an award in London and commissions for compositions began pouring in, it became clear to Lyytikäinen that he should invest in composing. In his career, he has composed operas, choral pieces, chamber music, and solo works.

Pen, paper, and questioning

One significant milestone along Lyytikäinen’s career was a lesson imparted by the late professor Paavo Heininen during Lyytikäinen’s master’s degree phase. Heininen looked at Lyytikäinen’s compositions and was puzzled by the complete lack of vocals in them. Heininen stated that Lyytikäinen would not graduate as a composer unless he also composed vocals, urging him to read modern Finnish poetry. That is when Lyytikäinen realised that the rhythm of language is still in the background even in instrumental music.

Cooperation with poets remains an integral part of Lyytikäinen’s composing work, as does a sense of community in general.

“I don’t care for heroic tales mystifying the work of a composer. Composing is lonely work but working together and other people’s contributions are a huge part of the whole.”

”Composing is lonely work but working together and other people’s contributions are a huge part of the whole.”

One significant success of Lyytikäinen’s career according to the man himself is the 42-part Koronakevään sävellyspäiväkirja (Composition Diary of Corona Spring), the parts of which he published on social media for anyone to perform.

Regularly questioning established working processes is important to Lyytikäinen.

“Composing is usually very slow. Even for a small opera, the creative work easily takes a year. Every mark has to be considered in depth. Sometimes, you need some distance from an unfinished work.”

A live composition project gave this experience a thorough airing out. In the project, the audience provided a subject and Lyytikäinen would pen a composition based on this subject on paper, and the resulting piece would ultimately be performed without rehearsing.”

Pen, paper, and time are the fundamental tools of a composer.

“I love writing by hand and have also practised note calligraphy.”

Lyytikäinen has also always enjoyed drawing.

“When my line had stiffened, a friend told me to draw with my left foot for a week. That help. The line has to stay alive.”

Playfulness as a release from excessive limitations is something he also subscribes to when teaching musical composition. Lyytikäinen, who teaches students of all ages including longtime professionals, describes himself as a practical teacher. To him, it is important for the students to cooperate with musicians and hear music.

“I respect the student’s aesthetics. First, I learn about the student’s strengths and start from there. I comment as a colleague. The student will inevitably encounter the things that are part of the process. It is useful to approach difficulties through strengths.”

Artist attracted by multidisciplinarity

Over the course of his career, Lyytikäinen has noticed that it has become increasingly difficult to ensure you can work in peace. He hopes for the substance expertise of scientists and artists to be nurtured in a way that allows them to focus on the essentials.

“Odds and ends take up a ton of time. Support services for teaching staff should be brought back. My situation as a lecturer is great at the moment, though. I can continue my composition work while teaching.”

Multidisciplinarity between arts and sciences still lights up such a spark in Lyytikäinen that he is currently dreaming about working as an international postdoc researcher.

The newly minted Doctor of Music engaged in dialogue with researchers from various fields during his studies and noted similarities with medical and technical research, for example.

“The composition process has a massive number of analogies with, for example, the industrial production process.”