An examination of computational creativity in music offers a series of models that illustrate selected aspects of musical creativity and then presents a process that integrates these aspects and produces music creatively.In this original and provocative study of computational creativity in music, David Cope asks whether computer programs can effectively model creativity --An examination of computational creativity in music offers a series of models that illustrate selected aspects of musical creativity and then presents a process that integrates these aspects and produces music creatively.In this original and provocative study of computational creativity in music, David Cope asks whether computer programs can effectively model creativity -- and whether computer programs themselves can create. Defining musical creativity, and distinguishing it from creativity in other arts, Cope presents a series of experimental models that illustrate salient features of musical creativity. He makes the case that musical creativity results from a process that he calls inductive association, and he contends that such a computational process can in fact produce music creatively. Drawing on the work of many other scholars and musicians -- including Douglas Hofstadter, Margaret Boden, Selmer Bringsjord, and Kathleen Lennon -- Cope departs from the views expressed by most with his contentions that computer programs can create and that those who do not believe this have probably defined creativity so narrowly that even humans could not be said to create.After examining the foundations of creativity and musical creativity, Cope describes a number of possible models for computationally imitating human creativity in music. He discusses such issues as recombinance and pattern matching, allusions, learning, inference, analogy, musical hierarchy, and influence, and finds that these experimental models solve only selected aspects of creativity. He then describes a model that integrates these different aspects -- an inductive-association computational process that can create music. Cope's writing style is lively and nontechnical; the reader needs neither knowledge of computer programming nor specialized computer hardware or software to follow the text.The computer programs discussed in the text, along with MP3 versions of all the musical examples, are available at the author's website, http: //arts.ucsc.edu/faculty/cope....
|Title||:||Computer Models of Musical Creativity|
|Number of Pages||:||462 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Computer Models of Musical Creativity Reviews
Let me say up front that I haven’t read this book in its entirety. Because half of it is unnecessary and frustrating, a disingenuous attempt to elevate the book beyond the application of a set of processes in the service of producing art, I couldn’t bear reading it from cover-to-cover. I will assay the book again at some point in the future.You know a book is in trouble when its first order of business is to trot out the hoary cliché of dictionary definitions in its first few pages and, worse, justify it with a discussion of dictionary semantics. The problem with Mr. Cope’s book is that it constantly needs to justify what ought to be a fascinating discussion of algorithms and modeling with some of the most amateurish philosophy and aesthetics I’ve read in a university press. I suppose that for the book to be worth writing, the author had to invent a raison d’être. There would be no contesting that some compositional methods are executed algorithmically or through interrelated formulae. That a computer can do the same thing is indisputable and that the outcomes, that are potentially identical given the same rules and inputs, can be called the same thing regardless of the agent performing it is obvious. You can call this creativity. You can call it backwaxing. You can call it flibertifloo. What you call it has no implications in reality for what it is.To Mr. Cope, however, what you call it is terribly important since some words carry metaphysical properties. Thus, he refers to the first law of thermodynamics in reference to the concept of “originality” and asserts that nothing can really be new because one hasn’t pulled new quarks out of the ether and arranged them into something never seen by human eyes. I thought he was trying to be ironic, but he then spends a couple of pages spinning this out to something like: Who listens to a song and says, “Oh mixolydian? What, you can’t invent your own mode? How derivative!” Nobody, of course, so Mr. Cope offers this as his case that if nothing is completely original, one ought not to worry as to whether a piece lacks novelty of any degree. Producers of bass will be very pleased indeed that Booty Juicin’ Mix #24 need not differ terribly much from the preceding 23 installments.At the center of this book is the fungibility of creativity. To Mr. Cope composing a sonata and playing a creative chess move are both examples of exactly the same thing in his mind. Why? Because we refer to them with the same word. By inductive reasoning, all chess boards have a finite number of solutions through creative reasoning; all music can be reduced to a problem of creativity with a finite number of solutions. And if you don’t agree with him, you’re racist*. Why? Because the world is full of cultures with no creative expression outside of games and riddles and if you don’t include creative problem solving then they cannot stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Occidentals’ “high art.” The internet doesn’t know who these people are, but whatevs, you Mel-Gibson-loving goose stepper. (*= I exaggerate for humor. Barely.)Illustrating the logical fallacy central to this book : I can dye my shirt red and I can dye this not-yet-red velvet cupcake red. The process, the application of a red substance that will permanently impart its hue to the object in question, is, broadly speaking, the same thing. The details of the process are completely different but both products are referred to as “dyed red”, a state at which they arrived through a dying process. Mr. Cope believes that the products of this labor are functionally identical. He would eat the shirt and wear the cupcake just as soon as he would reverse these uses. Because they are both the result of dying something red. That a human applies “discriminating taste” to a composition while a computer does not isn’t relevant so long as we use the same word to describe the process and therefore the products are equivalent. In fact, any sense of judgment that might be applied to the creation of a work of art is deemed irrelevant before we begin the discussion because it can’t be modeled computationally. Once Mr. Cope has eliminated everything that might contradict his arguments, he asserts that because there is no tenable counterargument in the universe of permitted arguments, his argument is correct. Mr. Cope ignores the deployment of tropes to indicate meaning in music, the result of the exchange of intersubjective expectation in communication. He relies instead on a neo-romanticism of the nature of music that Schiller was shilling at the turn of the nineteenth century about the nature of music as a transcendent art form. I disagree with this maddening sophistry. The proposed dichotomy that either a work of art has a “meaning” or it is “ineffable” is a false one. And, more frustrating, entirely unnecessary for this to be a good, informative work of nonfiction. In the future, I will return to this book. I will attempt to purge my memory of the grasping for relevance and read it for the joy of discovering new ways of making art. Unoriginal, eminently effable art.