[Signal 00] Introduc…tion

I mentioned that I’m preparing three or four different series, didn’t I? If you ask why I’ve suddenly started writing like this; well, I’ve actually written a lot over the years, but my primary reason now is that I’ve decided to write things that can be shared, rather than just keeping them to myself. I wanted to write freely about the books I read, the space I live in, the work I do, and my own thoughts.

That said, I can’t just write absolutely anything. I figured that organizing my writing into three (or perhaps four) major frameworks would make the process smoother, keep the content balanced, and perhaps even broaden my own perspective.

Above all, I have always loved writing. Even during my school years, I was constantly writing something. I thought it would be wonderful if I could take that thing I love and, with the help of a bit of a “system,” turn it into a medium, aside from music, that I can share with others.

There are moments while reading a book when you feel a sudden urge to write. There are certain authors who evoke that. Perhaps writing is a way of recording the intensive thoughts one has at a specific moment (unless one is writing a novel, though even novels, in a broader sense, reflect the author’s thoughts at the time). Some of the humble posts I’ve uploaded to this blog date back more than 20 years. What I am truly grateful for is that, looking back at those “insignificant” entries, I can re-read exactly what I was thinking two decades ago. This is a privilege reserved only for those who write. To be able to see my own thoughts from 20 years ago—how many people in the world actually get to preserve such moments?

What I was doing back then is important, of course. But tracking the evolution of my thoughts is truly vital. I am such a different person now than I was then, and I know that I will continue to change.

In any case, that is why I intend to keep posting. This “Signal” series will be an attempt to consciously draw connections between my life in the Netherlands and my work or music. My daily life acts as a signal for my work, and my work, in turn, sends signals back to my life.

While the “Lab” series will cover the trials and errors occurring within my studio, “Signal” will be about the stories happening outside of it.

Ah, my blog is quite old, so the categories don’t always organize themselves very well. Nevertheless, I trust that if there are long-time readers still around, they will navigate through them without much trouble.

And to anyone who takes the time to read this, thank you so much.

Image by Shutterstock.

[Lab 01] Crackle Inverter

I previously shared the background behind why I began these circuit experiments. However, starting something for the first time is always a challenge, as the initial point of departure sets the direction for everything that follows.

My choice emerged naturally from experience. When I first started these experiments, I was at a level where I could build very basic oscillators. Consequently, it felt intuitive to begin with the Integrated Circuits (ICs) I already had on hand. At the time, I had a sort of circuit practice toolbox that my friend Satoshi had passed down to me, which contained various IC chips. My starting point was to organize them, figure out what each one did, and pick one to work with. The most abundant chip in the box was the 4049 CMOS. I discovered it was a NOT gate; seeing that it simply outputted 1s and 0s, I thought it would be a perfect place to start.

Inverter (NOT gate)

An inverter, or NOT gate, is a fundamental component in digital circuits, designed to control input and output logic level voltages representing binary bits of 0 and 1. These binary values are depicted through voltage signals in relation to ground within the circuit. The functionality of an inverter extends to its ability to manage currents in two primary ways: Sourcing and Sinking.

Sourcing current involves connecting the output terminal to the IC’s power source (usually called Vcc), effectively “pushing” the current out. Conversely, Sinking current entails connecting the output terminal to the ground (often labeled as Vss), completing the circuit by “pulling” the electricity in to enable logic operations. To put it simply, it’s a component that “pushes and pulls” electricity.

Inverter Concept 1 Inverter Concept 2

Another frequently used IC for inverters is the 40106, which contains six Schmitt triggers. A Schmitt trigger is an inverter with hysteresis. But what exactly is hysteresis?

It refers to a property where the output of a system depends not only on its current state but also on its past state. By setting different thresholds for “stepping up” and “stepping down,” the system avoids wavering in ambiguous middle zones. This allows the system to remain stable and unfazed by external fluctuations or minor noise. In short, it is a more stable, noise-filtered inverter, and it is preferred in oscillator design due to that very reliability. (See the diagram below)

Hysteresis Diagram 1 Hysteresis Diagram 2

The interesting part of choosing between these two lies right here. Usually, one would choose the Schmitt trigger for its robustness against noise, as the 4049 seems to require a lot of effort to produce a clean square wave. To investigate further, I decided to compare the two side-by-side. This kind of comparison is an experiment that can only be done out of “ignorance”—a lack of prior knowledge. I designed the oscillators as follows:

Oscillator Comparison Design

Theoretically, in the design above, both should oscillate properly. The formula for calculating frequency is $1 / (RC \times t)$. I also learned that the value of $t$ (propagation delay) can usually be found in the datasheet. Looking at the waveforms at the bottom of the diagram, you can see that the frequencies of the two inverters are completely different. Specifically, the 4049 oscillator practically runs wild because it allows even the most minute changes to pass through. It’s a noise hellgate!

Consequently, I realized that to build an oscillator with the 4049, one must mix multiple oscillators together. In other words, you have to pass through various inverter gates to self-correct. The design is as follows:

4049 Mixed Oscillator Design

Through this experiment, my choice naturally gravitated toward the more “problematic” one. Starting with the 4049 and my first oscillator design, I built three oscillators into a single IC and began tinkering. I tried connecting different points, breaking connections, and replacing capacitors with different values or materials. The first circuit I created is shown below:

First Tinkered Circuit

At this point, a question arose: where should I listen to the sound? When working with analog, the starting and ending points are often unclear. For someone like me, who values tinkering over the “orthodox” way, the sheer number of choices was a bit paralyzing. So, I initially used the output junction shown above. When connecting to other equipment (e.g., a mixer), both devices must share the same ground, and the audio cable should not interfere with the signal flow. A good way to prevent this is to build a simple pre-amp using an Op-amp. I’ll explain the Op-amp some other time—that story is quite long!

So, the final design came out like this:

Final Circuit Design

Each point is numbered; these are the contact points where I can interfere with the circuit in various ways. This idea was actually inspired by the Crackle Box. I created multiple contact points in advance so that the character of the circuit changes depending on how each point meets. Unexpectedly, it works quite well.

The following is a video of the test. This attempt eventually became the catalyst for composing my 2024 work, Cross-wired Xylophone.

[Lab 00] Introduction

Between 2023 and 2024, as the pandemic began to subside and a new daily life emerged, an exciting project opportunity opened up for me: the Speculative Sound Synthesis research. My friend Luc was kind enough to include me in a major project proposal. While the funding results were originally expected during the height of COVID-19, the project—like so many other things at the time—came to a halt. I had even forgotten that my name was on the proposal.

Fortunately, the project eventually received funding. It was originally planned as a three-year endeavor, but unfortunately, Luc and I had to step away after just two years. I prefer not to discuss the reasons, and at this point, they are no longer important. What matters is the lasting impact those two years had on me.

It has been a long time since I engaged in formal research. I completed my Master’s at Sonology in 2008 and another in Amsterdam in 2011. While I have released many works and conducted smaller studies over the past decade, this project allowed me to realize several things about my practice.

First, through years of composition, I have accumulated much more to say and more things I want to explore. Second, I noticed that my creative process had begun to take on certain patterns—one could say my artistic voice has become clearer. Third, I started questioning very small, fundamental things. These are often closer to philosophical inquiries; I began to harbor basic yet profound questions about the sounds I handle and the technologies I use to create them.

To elaborate, we primarily create or transform sound using computers, which means following digital signal processing (DSP) methods. I understand how signals are processed through my studies in DSP. However, ultimately, behind those technical calculations lies a specific way of handling time—and the same applies to analog methods. I realized I had never seriously considered what fundamental difference these two approaches bring to us as electronic music composers.

I discovered that the worlds of analog and digital, so close yet so far, have always been with me in an unfamiliar way. It was a moment of sudden clarity: I needed to return to the basics. I wanted to understand signals more deeply. And so, the project began.

I started by focusing on how time is processed from analog to digital. Following my characteristic “tinkering” approach, I allowed myself to cross over into whatever areas piqued my interest, resulting in several fascinating experiments.

Moving forward, I intend to collect and share these experiments here—many of which were created back then but never published. These are not quite tutorials, nor are they clearly defined artistic outcomes. It is better to call them “experimental fragments.” By releasing them here, I will document my thought processes and questions, and perhaps I might find answers to one or two of them. Perhaps this writing is simply a means for me to maintain a proper record.

There may be moments where a post ends abruptly without a clear conclusion, but I want to steadily list these past experiments as a series while continuing to pursue new ones. As mentioned, the research was interrupted after two years, and I moved on to other projects. It feels as though I only opened the door to let some air in without progressing further. Now, I want to return to that research and continue it on my own (with occasional conversations with Luc).

If someone happens to find and read this, that would be wonderful. But even if not, I am content. I am simply grateful to finally begin this record.