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An essay in six variations
 Written by GPT-3 and Howard Smith

The six essays below were written by an Artificial Intelligence called GPT-3. In the final essay, Satie speaks in his own voice and composes a poem reflecting on the influences of his work. The AI-generated essays were guided by Howard Smith, a human. Howard only had to give the briefest of instructions to the remarkable AI. Such ‘generative’ systems are making waves across the world. GPT-3 is but a taste of what’s to come. Humankind will shortly have many new AI companions.

Howard Smith is the human author of Note For Note, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered. Howard is also the author of an experimental book on the topic of Climate Change. The 180 page book was written by GPT-3 in response to questions posed by Howard. The two collaborators ‘wrote’ the book in just 12 hours. The work was self-published 6 days later and is now available via Amazon worldwide. In Conversation with GPT-3: An AI On Climate Change  is a taste of what’s ahead for anyone working in any creative field. 

One of 30 images generated by DALL*E 2 in response to a prompt by the author: A painting in the style of Dada art of the composer Erik Satie and a ticking clock

And now, dear friends, the essays:

Version 1

Human in italics. All else written by an AI.

Write an essay about the music of Erik Satie. Concentrate on explaining the musical influences and genres that led to Satie’s unique style. Also cover the way Satie’s music influenced composers that followed him.

Erik Satie was a French composer and pianist known for his unique and unconventional musical style. He was born in 1866 and began composing music at a young age. Throughout his career, Satie experimented with a wide range of musical genres and influences, which ultimately led to the development of his distinctive style.

One of the major influences on Satie’s music was the impressionism movement in art. Impressionist painters, such as Monet and Degas, were known for their use of light and color to create a sense of atmosphere and mood. Satie similarly sought to evoke a sense of atmosphere in his music through the use of harmonic and melodic color. He often employed unconventional harmonies and dissonant chord progressions to create a sense of tension and dissonance.

Another important influence on Satie’s music was cabaret and café-concert culture. These venues were popular in Paris during the late 19th and early 20th centuries and featured a wide range of musical styles, including folk songs, popular songs, and vaudeville. Satie was heavily influenced by the playful, irreverent, and often satirical spirit of these performances, and he incorporated elements of cabaret and café-concert music into his own compositions.

Satie’s music also drew inspiration from other genres, including folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. He was particularly interested in the use of simple, repetitive rhythms and melodies, which he often incorporated into his music to create a sense of hypnotic and meditative states.

Satie’s unique and unconventional musical style had a significant influence on composers that followed him. Many of his techniques and ideas were adopted and adapted by other composers, particularly those working in the field of minimalism. Satie was one of the first composers to use repetitive rhythms and simple harmonies, techniques that would become central to the minimalist style. He was also an important influence on the development of ambient and experimental music.

In conclusion, Erik Satie’s music was shaped by a wide range of musical influences and genres, including impressionism, cabaret and café-concert culture, folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. His unique and unconventional style had a significant influence on composers that followed him, particularly in the field of minimalism and experimental music. His music still continues to be celebrated and performed today.

Version 2

Improve the essay please by including some quotes by Erik Satie. 

Erik Satie was a French composer and pianist known for his unique and unconventional musical style. He was born in 1866 and began composing music at a young age. Throughout his career, Satie experimented with a wide range of musical genres and influences, which ultimately led to the development of his distinctive style.

One of the major influences on Satie’s music was the impressionism movement in art. Impressionist painters, such as Monet and Degas, were known for their use of light and color to create a sense of atmosphere and mood. Satie similarly sought to evoke a sense of atmosphere in his music through the use of harmonic and melodic color. He often employed unconventional harmonies and dissonant chord progressions to create a sense of tension and dissonance. In his own words, Satie stated “I have found it necessary to get rid of all the parts that everyone likes and keep all those which no one likes”

Another important influence on Satie’s music was cabaret and café-concert culture. These venues were popular in Paris during the late 19th and early 20th centuries and featured a wide range of musical styles, including folk songs, popular songs, and vaudeville. Satie was heavily influenced by the playful, irreverent, and often satirical spirit of these performances, and he incorporated elements of cabaret and café-concert music into his own compositions. He once said, “I am a country whose boundaries are the imagination.”

Satie’s music also drew inspiration from other genres, including folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. He was particularly interested in the use of simple, repetitive rhythms and melodies, which he often incorporated into his music to create a sense of hypnotic and meditative states. His music was described as being “inventive and original” by himself.

Satie’s unique and unconventional musical style had a significant influence on composers that followed him. Many of his techniques and ideas were adopted and adapted by other composers, particularly those working in the field of minimalism. Satie was one of the first composers to use repetitive rhythms and simple harmonies, techniques that would become central to the minimalist style. He was also an important influence on the development of ambient and experimental music.

In conclusion, Erik Satie’s music was shaped by a wide range of musical influences and genres, including impressionism, cabaret and café-concert culture, folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. His unique and unconventional style had a significant influence on composers that followed him, particularly in the field of minimalism and experimental music. His music still continues to be celebrated and performed today. Satie’s own words offers a glimpse into his artistic vision, his revolutionary approach and his enduring legacy.

Version 3

Can you extend the essay by listing some of Satie’s best loved music. Place the list of works at the end of the essay. 

Erik Satie was a French composer and pianist known for his unique and unconventional musical style. He was born in 1866 and began composing music at a young age. Throughout his career, Satie experimented with a wide range of musical genres and influences, which ultimately led to the development of his distinctive style.

One of the major influences on Satie’s music was the impressionism movement in art. Impressionist painters, such as Monet and Degas, were known for their use of light and color to create a sense of atmosphere and mood. Satie similarly sought to evoke a sense of atmosphere in his music through the use of harmonic and melodic color. He often employed unconventional harmonies and dissonant chord progressions to create a sense of tension and dissonance. In his own words, Satie stated “I have found it necessary to get rid of all the parts that everyone likes and keep all those which no one likes”

Another important influence on Satie’s music was cabaret and café-concert culture. These venues were popular in Paris during the late 19th and early 20th centuries and featured a wide range of musical styles, including folk songs, popular songs, and vaudeville. Satie was heavily influenced by the playful, irreverent, and often satirical spirit of these performances, and he incorporated elements of cabaret and café-concert music into his own compositions. He once said, “I am a country whose boundaries are the imagination.”

Satie’s music also drew inspiration from other genres, including folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. He was particularly interested in the use of simple, repetitive rhythms and melodies, which he often incorporated into his music to create a sense of hypnotic and meditative states. His music was described as being “inventive and original” by himself.

Satie’s unique and unconventional musical style had a significant influence on composers that followed him. Many of his techniques and ideas were adopted and adapted by other composers, particularly those working in the field of minimalism. Satie was one of the first composers to use repetitive rhythms and simple harmonies, techniques that would become central to the minimalist style. He was also an important influence on the development of ambient and experimental music.

In conclusion, Erik Satie’s music was shaped by a wide range of musical influences and genres, including impressionism, cabaret and café-concert culture, folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. His unique and unconventional style had a significant influence on composers that followed him, particularly in the field of minimalism and experimental music. His music still continues to be celebrated and performed today. Satie’s own words offers a glimpse into his artistic vision, his revolutionary approach and his enduring legacy.

Some of Satie’s best known works include:

“Gymnopédies” (1888)

“Sports et divertissements” (1914)

“Vexations” (1893)

“Socrate” (1918)

“Parade” (1917)

“Three pieces in the form of a Pear” (1903)

“Avant-dernières pensées” (1911-1915)

“Furniture Music” (Musique d’ameublement) (1917)

“Sonatine bureaucratique” (1908)

“Véritables préludes flasques (pour un chien)” (1913)

Version 4

Rewrite the essay please, in a writing style that Satie might have used.

My dear friends, let me regale you with tales of my musical endeavors. I, Erik Satie, have always been drawn to the unconventional, the unorthodox. I sought to challenge the status quo and to push the boundaries of what is considered to be “music.”

The movement of Impressionism, with its emphasis on light and color, has had a profound influence on my compositions. I strive to evoke a sense of atmosphere and mood through the use of harmonic and melodic color. I often employ unconventional harmonies and dissonant chord progressions to create a sense of tension and dissonance. As I have said before, “I have found it necessary to get rid of all the parts that everyone likes and keep all those which no one likes.”

The cabaret and café-concert culture of my beloved Paris have also had a great impact on my music. The playful, irreverent, and often satirical spirit of these performances has been a constant source of inspiration for me. I have incorporated elements of cabaret and café-concert music into my own compositions, always seeking to push the boundaries of what is considered acceptable. As I have said, “I am a country whose boundaries are the imagination.”

I have also been heavily influenced by the simplicity and repetition found in folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. These have all played a role in my quest to create music that evokes hypnotic and meditative states. My compositions have been described as “inventive and original,” and I take great pride in that.

My unique and unconventional style has had a significant influence on composers that have followed me. My use of repetitive rhythms and simple harmonies, for instance, have become central to the minimalist style. And I have also been an important influence on the development of ambient and experimental music.

In conclusion, my dear friends, my music is the product of a wide range of influences and genres. I have always sought to challenge the status quo, to push the boundaries of what is considered to be “music.” And I will continue to do so, for as I have said, “The essential thing is to invent.” And with that, I bid you adieu, and hope that you will enjoy my compositions.

Some of my most notable works include:

“Gymnopédies” (1888)

“Sports et divertissements” (1914)

“Vexations” (1893)

“Socrate” (1918)

“Parade” (1917)

“Three pieces in the form of a Pear” (1903)

“Avant-dernières pensées” (1911-1915)

“Furniture Music” (Musique d’ameublement) (1917)

“Sonatine bureaucratique” (1908)

“Véritables préludes flasques (pour un chien)” (1913)

Version 5

Rewrite the essay once again to make it sound like Dada art. 

Ladies and gentlemen, behold the absurdity of my musical creations. I, Erik Satie, have always been attracted to the nonsensical, the illogical. I sought to mock the status quo and to shatter the boundaries of what is considered to be “music.”

The movement of Impressionism, with its emphasis on light and color, has been a source of inspiration for my compositions. I strive to evoke a sense of chaos and confusion through the use of harmonic and melodic nonsense. I often employ unconventional harmonies and dissonant chord progressions to create a sense of confusion and disorder. As I have said before, “I have found it necessary to get rid of all the parts that make sense and keep all those which don’t.”

The cabaret and café-concert culture of my beloved Paris have also been a great influence on my music. The nonsensical, irreverent, and often satirical spirit of these performances has been a constant source of inspiration for me. I have incorporated elements of cabaret and café-concert music into my own compositions, always seeking to mock the boundaries of what is considered acceptable. As I have said, “I am a country whose boundaries are the absurdity.”

I have also been heavily influenced by the simplicity and repetition found in folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. These have all played a role in my quest to create music that evokes hypnotic and chaotic states. My compositions have been described as “nonsensical and illogical,” and I take great pride in that.

My unique and unconventional style has had a significant influence on composers that have followed me. My use of repetitive rhythms and simple harmonies, for instance, have become central to the Dada style. And I have also been an important influence on the development of chaotic and experimental music.

In conclusion, my dear friends, my music is the product of a wide range of influences and genres. I have always sought to mock the status quo, to shatter the boundaries of what is considered to be “music.” And I will continue to do so, for as I have said, “The essential thing is to invent absurdity.” And with that, I bid you adieu, and hope that you will enjoy my nonsensical compositions.

Some of my most notable works include:

“Gymnopédies” (1888)

“Sports et divertissements” (1914)

“Vexations” (1893)

“Socrate” (1918)

“Parade” (1917)

“Three pieces in the form of a Pear” (1903)

“Avant-dernières pensées” (1911-1915)

“Furniture Music” (Musique d’ameublement) (1917)

“Sonatine bureaucratique” (1908)

“Véritables préludes flasques (pour un chien)” (1913)

Version 6 (the ‘final’ version, or is it?)

Include and invent an absurdist poem by Satie.

Ladies and gentlemen, behold the absurdity of my musical creations. I, Erik Satie, have always been attracted to the nonsensical, the illogical. I sought to mock the status quo and to shatter the boundaries of what is considered to be “music.”

The movement of Impressionism, with its emphasis on light and color, has been a source of inspiration for my compositions. I strive to evoke a sense of chaos and confusion through the use of harmonic and melodic nonsense. I often employ unconventional harmonies and dissonant chord progressions to create a sense of confusion and disorder. As I have said before, “I have found it necessary to get rid of all the parts that make sense and keep all those which don’t.”

The cabaret and café-concert culture of my beloved Paris have also been a great influence on my music. The nonsensical, irreverent, and often satirical spirit of these performances has been a constant source of inspiration for me. I have incorporated elements of cabaret and café-concert music into my own compositions, always seeking to mock the boundaries of what is considered acceptable. As I have said, “I am a country whose boundaries are the absurdity.”

I have also been heavily influenced by the simplicity and repetition found in folk music, medieval and Renaissance music, and popular music. These have all played a role in my quest to create music that evokes hypnotic and chaotic states. My compositions have been described as “nonsensical and illogical,” and I take great pride in that.

My unique and unconventional style has had a significant influence on composers that have followed me. My use of repetitive rhythms and simple harmonies, for instance, have become central to the Dada style. And I have also been an important influence on the development of chaotic and experimental music.

In conclusion, my dear friends, my music is the product of a wide range of influences and genres. I have always sought to mock the status quo, to shatter the boundaries of what is considered to be “music.” And I will continue to do so, for as I have said, “The essential thing is to invent absurdity.” And with that, I bid you adieu, and hope that you will enjoy my nonsensical compositions.

Here is an example of my absurdist poetry:

“The notes danced on the page

With no care for time or age

They sang of chaos and confusion

In a melody of self-illusion

The harmony was out of tune

But that only added to the moon

The rhythm was a mess

But it was the best

For in this madness, we find art

In this chaos, a brand new start

So let us revel in the absurd

For it is in this, true beauty is heard”

Some of my most notable works include:

“Gymnopédies” (1888)

“Sports et divertissements” (1914)

“Vexations” (1893)

“Socrate” (1918)

“Parade” (1917)

“Three pieces in the form of a Pear” (1903)

“Avant-dernières pensées” (1911-1915)

“Furniture Music” (Musique d’ameublement) (1917)

“Sonatine bureaucratique” (1908)

“Véritables préludes flasques (pour un chien)” (1913)

End of interaction with GPT-3

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Guest post by Howard Smith

Glenn Gould once said “One does not play the piano with one’s fingers, one plays the piano with one’s mind.” Sounds plausible, but what did he mean? I’ve heard similar ideas from my piano teachers. One suggested, “spending time away from the keyboard with the sheet music.”  Another urged me to “fully concentrate while practicing”.  And, an experienced concert pianist told me that “Practice must always be ‘mind led’. Do not touch the keyboard until you are sure of things.”  

What does it mean to play the piano with one’s mind?

I should explain why I am writing about this topic. I am an upper-intermediate pianist struggling to make a solid transition to ‘advanced’. I stress ‘solid’. How come? I did little piano as a child and my gap before returning to the keys was 45 years! The cards are stacked against me. Whenever I use this cruel fact as an excuse with my teachers, they ramble on about practice approaches – of course – and the conversation always ends in the same place: “It’s all in the mind, Howard.” Well, is it? 

I must start with how I feel. It is taking me an inordinate time to bring new pieces to fruition. I won’t go into details but I will make an assertion. Unless I can get on top of pieces more readily, I simply won’t be getting through enough varied music to make progress. Imagine a tennis player who rarely played against more able opponents. The only way top-ranked players progress is to play regularly against their peers. Likewise, the only way musicians progress is to expand their repertoire. If the amateur pianist is taking weeks, months or in some cases a year or more to get a new piece under their fingers, is it surprising that their progress will be limited? No. One could easily find oneself going backwards!

I am sitting with my regular teacher and explaining the dilemma to her. She explains that it is common to take weeks and months on new work. She also explains that she generally requires her students to tackle the set pieces for upcoming grade examinations in a single term, or at most two terms. I tend to agree with her.  I don’t think you can count yourself to be ‘at’ a grade level if it takes a year or more to bring the required three pieces to a good standard. But I am no exam chaser. Far from it. My interest in this topic is borne out of my own frustration in crossing the chasm from upper-intermediate to advanced. It is also an intellectual curiosity. My teacher observed, for example, that I have no trouble moving my fingers and hands once the piece is absorbed. “It is not your fingers that are the problem,” she said. So what, precisely, is the problem? 

Another teacher talked about patterns.  “It’s all about patterns, Howard,” he said. “You must be able to recognise the patterns, not the individual notes”. I can relate to that, my sight reading is sub-standard. But I am unconvinced this is the only, or even the main, thing that is holding me back. Even after I have spent time ‘learning the notes’ the hard way (rote repetition) I still feel an impediment buried deep in my playing. It rarely feels … easy, relaxed. There is a hesitancy in my transitions, especially in more complex or rapid passages. I must admit, it does feel as though it is my mind being the sluggish laggard in those moments, not my nimble fingers. It ‘feels’ as if a signal is not being communicated from my brain to my hands as quickly as required to keep the music moving forward. Or perhaps the conjuring up of the correct signal, the moment of thought, is lacking. It is often enough to disturb the play. I can enjoy the occasional sense of ‘flow’ but it is rare for me to experience what other pianists have described as ‘letting go’.  When I do, everything falls apart, more often than not.

Teachers cannot easily see into the mind of their pupils. My starting point for thinking about this impediment can only be, therefore, how I feel while playing. And believe me, I have tried. This kind of self reflection is like trying to swivel your eyes to look inside your head. Yes, I do have a sense that something mental lies at the heart of my blocks. The question is, what? 

It’s easy to become paranoid. I am in late middle age and only too well aware that the mind is less agile than perhaps it once was. It starts with little things, forgetfulness, not remembering people’s names, forgetting where one left one’s glasses, etc. Is this what is holding me back? Am I simply the victim of biology and the ageing process? The thought horrifies me. I stepped into this ‘piano journey’ game late in life. I understood there was a diminishing ‘window of opportunity’. But every time I raise this with a teacher they assure me the impediment can be overstated, that adults have certain advantages over children. We are able to spend more time at the keyboard for example, and with developed intellects we can immerse ourselves in more of the theory and practice that tackling this instrument requires. There are stories of amateur pianists still making progress well into their late 70s and early 80s. Will that be me, I wonder? I have to believe so. 

If the ageing process is not as much an impediment than I once feared, what else could be holding me back? My career was spent in the computer industry, specifically, software development and complex systems design. That takes intelligence? What is the role of intelligence in piano playing? I’ve never met an unintelligent musician at the top of their game. There is a reason why you find super-intelligent people around music. Perhaps I have the wrong kind of intelligence for the piano? Is there such a thing as ‘musical intelligence’? Am I lacking it? My penfriend, a biologist, is quick to point out there are not different types of intelligence, just differences in the way the brain develops depending how it is applied, the object of our attention. Does the child who plays music from the age of six develop a musician’s intelligence different in kind than the intelligence required of a software engineer? Is it now too late to change the wiring? 

When I think about great pianists, when I marvel at their superhuman feats of virtuosic performance and memorisation, I have to conclude that raw IQ must play a significant role. Is that what is holding me back? Am I less intelligent than required for piano? I never was any good at those ‘recall twenty objects on a tray’ games. Or perhaps my kind of intelligence (logic and math) is simply the wrong colour for music? The thought terrifies me. Having taken the decision to step out of a career of one kind for an activity of quite a different nature, to have spent years in the journey on a quest that leads nowhere, I’m not sure how I could handle that. My friends, sensing such a possibility, urge me to have ‘realistic’ expectations. So what’s to be done? I’m not ready to give up. On the other hand, unless I can make more progress and tackle more advanced music more readily, I do not believe that playing a stream of simpler pieces could sustain me. There is a real possibility of never touching the keys again. For someone as passionate about music as I, who has entered into the spirit of the journey as fully as I, this is quite a statement to make. But I have to admit it: as I write this article, I am on a knife edge. To use a metaphor from my book, Note For Note, I may be about to fall off the escalator and never jump back on. 

What’s to be done? 

A friend from my piano circle urged me to reassess my practice regime. He was kind enough to send me a detailed systematic approach that he is experimenting with. I looked at it, but was unconvinced. I have used some of those techniques before, perhaps not as rigorously as he would advise, but I don’t think doing more of the same will help me. He also suggested that I step back and work on simpler pieces, a few grades below my current level, so as to get through more music and, at the same time, benefit from the sight-reading.  Sounds sensible, but I was not immediately motivated to do this. No, another idea popped into my mind, and it was reinforced by an experienced pianist I met at summer school. He said, “Given your age, Howard, it’s now or never.  I would recommend you tackle a few works far in advance of your grade. Stretch goals.”  His idea held great appeal to me. His theory was that even if I did not complete the pieces to the standard required for performance, I would learn a lot in the process. And so, somewhat tentatively, I chose such a piece. 

Have you ever come across a piece that, on first listen, touches you so deeply that you decide, there and then, that you simply must be able to play it, no matter what the cost in time and effort. Not ‘wish’ or ‘hope’ to play it, but ‘must’ play it, with all your soul. I have found such a piece, by complete chance. It is more than gorgeous. It is not one of the greatest works of music, nor is it so complex that a diploma level pianist would find it daunting. For me it is pitched just right. It lies far from my comfort zone but not so far as to be permanently inaccessible. And so I have set myself this goal: unless I can truly perform (not merely play) this piece by the Spring, I hereby make a solemn oath: I will never play again. 

Postscript

I’ve not yet learnt to play with the mind, but I have learnt this:  As I practice I must practice even more slowly than I had previously realised. Every note and every chord must be ‘read’ from the sheet music. I must never assume my fingers will take me to where I need them to be. I must will them to do so, by brain power alone. Every movement must be fully considered. As I move through the music I must make no mistakes. For to make a single mistake will engrain it for next time. If I am making mistakes, even small ones, this is the signal that I must slow down even more. If necessary I must not move to the next beat until the positions of the hands and fingers for the subsequent beat are correct. This correction must occur in the mind before it is manifest in the fingers. This mind-led practice is what I will strive to perfect from now on.  Whether this is what Glenn Gould or my teachers meant I am less sure. I must find out. 

As ever, I wish to learn from the piano community, many of whom will have made more progress than me. Let’s have a conversation. What do you think Glenn Gould and my teachers meant? Please feel free to comment below

Howard Smith is a keen amateur pianist and author of Note for Note, a compelling account of his piano journey. Find out more here https://linktr.ee/note4notethebook