The recent new edition of Helmut Lachenmann's Salut für Caudwell (1977) published in Breitkopf & Härtel (2020) by guitarist-researcher Seth Josel has renewed public attention on this seminal work from contemporary guitar literature. As a performer myself, I first performed the piece in 2008 (its Chilean premiere) and have recently premiered the new edition. Performing this piece in a concert situation is always a big event for both performers and listeners; the score seems to age well and its multivalence urges a rethink about how to approach it today. The purpose of this article is threefold: to consider the contribution of the new edition, to examine the relation of notation and performance through the analysis of selected recordings and to interrogate the possible futures for Salut, given recent developments in research into contemporary performing practice.

This article examines the relationship between notation and improvisation and the ways in which notational representation and prescription are extended by para-notation in the work and practice of the improvisers Sarah Brand and Moss Freed and in the work of ethnomusicologist Floris Schuiling, in particular through his research into the Dutch collective, the Instant Composers Pool (ICP). Sarah Brand analyses her own improvisation transcriptions using concepts derived from music therapy to help sharpen awareness for future improvisation. Moss Freed's Micromotives features his own variant of conduction, developed through reflexive and cyclic processes of notation, rehearsals and discussion. Floris Schuiling's ethnomusicological research into the ICP reveals how notation can be used to generate creative challenges, not only for the members of the collective but for musicians in general. A series of interviews reveals that these musicians use notation to render processes visible and to build and develop communities and cultures.

This article considers the possibility that the emphasis we place on composers developing an artistic voice might be unhelpful for making good pieces. I look at what constitutes an artistic voice and consider pros and cons for having a voice. As an alternative I examine strengths and weaknesses for being a capricious composer, which I define as a willingness to explore different compositional avenues without concern for constructing a consistent body of work. My objective is not to discredit composers who have a strong voice, but rather to loosen the grip of the single-voiced model that dominates the value system of new music.

This article explores the times and datedness of new opera. When referring to an opera (20**) the bracketed number that follows the composition title usually refers to the date of composition or the first performance. When asked how many times an opera was played, its interpreters tend to refer to the number of performances, not the number of instances of rehearsal and individual practice. These times often remain unmentioned by performers, composers, production teams and institutions. But what do we make invisible when we exclude the main act of collective labour in the production of a new staged work? How do new operas structure their times and, in turn, how do these various times restructure new opera? I call for an inclusion of the rehearsal in the temporal narratives that new opera tells through its dates and times, emerging from collaborative processes in compound temporalities. With ethnographic glimpses into different operatic rehearsal studios, I examine the process that takes up most of new opera's time – rehearsal time – rather than audiences’ or performers’ lived experiences during the performance. This article maps the times inside rehearsal time – from daily schedules, call times and deep times of props to computational time and the timing of time itself – for better understanding new opera's ontology.

Creating new works combining live musicians with new technologies provides both opportunities and challenges. The Cyborg Soloists research project has commissioned and managed the creation of 46 new works of this type, assembling teams of composers, performers, researchers and technology partners from industry. The majority of these collaborations have been smooth-running and fruitful, but a few have demonstrated complications. This article critically evaluates collaborative methods and methodologies used in the project so far, presenting five case studies involving different types of collaborative work, and exploring the range of professional relationships, the need for different types of expertise within the team and the way technology can act as both a creative catalyst and a source of creative resistance. The conclusions are intended as a toolkit – pragmatic guidelines to inform future practice – and are aimed at artists, technological collaborators, and commissioners and organisations who facilitate these types of creative collaborations.

Seaton Snook was a thriving community of fishermen, blacksmiths, teachers, seacoalers, labourers and musicians on the coast of County Durham, UK. After 1968, however, government records and newspaper reports referring to the town cease and there are, apparently, no former residents still living. This article outlines the creation of What Happened to Seaton Snook?, an internet-based archive of sounds and music from the area, its residents and its workers, devised to try and form a picture of the town and what happened there. Among the nearly 100 artefacts in this ethnomusicological study are pieces for piano and harpsichord, pedagogic works, folk tunes for voice and Northumbrian smallpipes, brass band music, Krautrock, psychedelic rock and works for magnetic tape. There are biographies and photographs of people key to the history of the town, and interviews with experts in matters pertaining to the artefacts. The archive also seeks to examine the economic and cultural neglect of the North East of England and the importance of the stories we tell around the music we make.