In the depths of music history, there exist figures who seem to inhabit a strange, almost arcane world between genius and madness —figures whose work, for their devoted followers, resists easy categorization and reveals itself only to those who approach it with special knowledge. One such figure, whom I stumbled upon by recommendation about two years ago, is the Italian composer Giacinto Scelsi, born in 1905. His life and work have given rise to numerous myths and legends, just as much as they’ve inspired scholarly analysis in the field of music.
For me, the fascination with Scelsi doesn’t stem from some cultish pursuit of secret knowledge. Rather, there are elements in Scelsi’s work and method that I’ve found particularly exciting, especially in relation to my own exploration of drone music. In a way, that’s the allure, isn’t it? To take on challenges that offer a different approach to music and open up new perspectives—or to fuse them with existing concepts.
Crisis and Transformation
Scelsi, whose full name was Count Giacinto Francesco Maria Scelsi d’Ayala Valva, was born into an aristocratic family with Sicilian roots on his mother’s side and Spanish on his father’s. His privileged background spared him the worries of making a living, and this allowed him to avoid integrating fully into the academic and ideologically charged music world, dominated as it was by both communist and conservative currents.
During the 1920s and 1930s, Scelsi associated with some of the key figures who shaped modernism: Jean Cocteau, Virginia Woolf, and notably, the writer Henri Michaux. By the late 1930s, Scelsi had even started hosting art and music soirées in Rome by himself. However, when Italy introduced its fascist racial laws, Scelsi withdrew from the public eye and went into exile in Switzerland, returning to Italy after World War II had ended.
It was after this return, likely in the 1950s, that Scelsi faced a significant crisis. His breakdown, often described as a mix of personal collapse and creative block, has unclear origins. Yet many accounts suggest that it arose from a combination of professional failure, emotional isolation, and a profound spiritual dissatisfaction. During this period, it’s believed that Scelsi sought psychiatric treatment.
There are indications that this crisis led to a kind of spiritual awakening for him. During this phase, he began focusing intensely on sound itself, developing his technique of "one-note" composition. He abandoned the traditional Western approach to composition and crafted a new kind of music that revolved around a single note or small intervals.
This technique, centered on exploring a single tone, reaches beyond conventional musical notions and is deeply informed by Scelsi’s metaphysical and spiritual beliefs. It’s not about melodies, harmonies, or rhythmic structures; rather, Scelsi sought to investigate sound as a living, evolving force.
One-Note Method
In Western music, a tone is often seen as static—a fixed pitch within a harmonic framework. Scelsi, however, regarded tone as dynamic, a living phenomenon that could vary infinitely in its depth and inner movement. His method can be likened to a kind of acoustic meditation, where one focuses on a single tone or a close cluster of tones, slowly transforming them over time.
This brings us into the realm of "deep listening," an extension of how we perceive tone and sound. The "one-note" principle compels the listener to perceive the tone more deeply and more distinctly. As the changes happen in microtonal shifts and subtle timbral modulations, the music demands high levels of focus and mindfulness. The listener is, in a way, drawn into the tone and its vibrations.
For Scelsi, music was a form of spiritual practice. His focus on a single note reflected his belief that within the depth of one sound, the entire universe was hidden. This concept was heavily influenced by Eastern mysticism, especially Indian philosophy. Scelsi saw sound as a bridge to transcendent realms and viewed his music as a medium that could lead listeners into a meditative and spiritual state.
One of the most notable examples of this technique is Scelsi’s 1959 composition "Quattro Pezzi su una nota sola" (Four Pieces on a Single Note). In this work, each movement revolves around a single tone, which becomes the starting point for an exploration of timbre, dynamics, and microtonal shifts. The pieces unfold around this note, revealing its complexity and inner motion.
Scelsi’s one-note technique pushed the boundaries of conventional Western music traditions. By focusing on the inner dimensions of a single tone, Scelsi created an entirely new way of hearing and composing, one that is both intellectually and spiritually challenging.
Discovering the Unheard Realms
The similarities between Giacinto Scelsi’s one-note technique and drone music are striking. Both approaches are intensely focused on sound itself, rather than on traditional musical elements like melody or harmony. They explore the depth of a sound, its vibrations, overtones, and microtonalities, creating a nearly hypnotic, meditative soundscape. Both Scelsi’s one-note compositions and drone music rely on long, sustained tones. Instead of melodic or harmonic progression, both focus on maintaining and exploring a continuous sound or a limited number of sounds. The sound persists over time, allowing the listener to concentrate on subtle changes in the structure and texture of the sound.
These styles of music create an immersive, trance-like atmosphere. The hypnotic qualities of extended tones in drone music and in Scelsi’s work lead the listener into a state of deep concentration or meditation. For Scelsi, sound was a spiritual force, one that could enable profound metaphysical and spiritual experiences—much in the way that many drone musicians seek a connection to mystical or ritualistic dimensions through their music. One of the most exciting pieces by Scelsi, using various techniques is definitely “Uaxuctum”:
However, there are also key differences. Scelsi was a classically trained composer, deeply embedded in the European avant-garde tradition, while drone music is strongly influenced by various musical traditions like Indian raga, sacred music, as well as the experimental and electronic music of the 20th century. Drone music is often associated with alternative music scenes and is linked to genres like ambient, noise, minimalism, and post-industrial movements.
While both share a similar aesthetic, Scelsi’s one-note technique is technically more demanding and complex than many forms of drone music. Scelsi employed microtonal shifts, complex timbral modulations, and highly differentiated dynamics to shape his sound layers. His method involved very precise compositional techniques, whereas drone music often relies on simpler, repetitive patterns or long, continuous sounds, frequently produced by electronic effects or modified acoustic instruments.
Scelsi’s music, particularly his one-note works, was typically composed for classical instruments and performed in orchestral or chamber settings. The orchestration plays a crucial role in the variation of timbres. In contrast, drone music often employs electronic instruments, synthesizers, guitars with amplifiers, or acoustic instruments processed electronically in real-time. Drone music can be performed in a wide variety of settings, from concert stages to experimental art installations or clubs.
It’s fascinating to see that Scelsi’s one-note technique and drone music share common aesthetic goals, such as a focus on sound itself and the creation of meditative, hypnotic atmospheres. Both approaches reject traditional musical structures and seek deeper sonic and spiritual experiences.
Embracing the Unheard Resonance
At this point, I’d like to reflect on what I’ve learned and consider how Scelsi’s work and drone music might take on a unique meaning for someone living with profound hearing loss. The perception of sounds is altered, often limited or distorted, and the musical experience becomes something different than that of a person with full hearing. As I’ve noted before, the clear and natural perception of sound is an impossibility for me. Yet, paradoxically, this has led me to find an unexpected resonance in Scelsi’s one-note technique and drone music. Why? Because both approaches shift the focus away from a complex, traditionally linear structure toward something far more elemental and physically tangible: pure sound, its vibrations, its textures, and its dynamic transformations.
For those with hearing loss, sound is often perceived more through its physical properties—vibrations and resonances felt through the body or through certain frequencies. Scelsi’s approach of exploring a single tone in all its shades and microtonalities can hold particular significance for someone with hearing loss, as it emphasizes the inner vibrations of a sound that can be felt beyond just auditory perception. The subtlety of the tone—how it changes, vibrates, and floats in space—can be experienced on a physically sensory level.
Drone music operates similarly: through long, sustained tones and deep frequencies, sound becomes almost "tangible." Low frequencies, in particular, may be more perceivable and felt by those with hearing impairments than high frequencies, which can create a unique connection to drone music. The music here shifts from being a purely auditory experience to a multi-dimensional, physical encounter with sound, mediated through vibrations and resonances.
A very good example of the drone music described above is the album “Avec Laudenum” by Stars of the Lid:
The reduction to a single tone and its microtonal shifts offers a new way to experience music: music becomes a space rather than just a sequence in time. Philosophically speaking, one could argue that in Scelsi’s world, music doesn’t so much "happen" as it "exists." For someone who may struggle with rapid or complex musical structures due to hearing impairment, this reduction to the essential, to the tone and its nuances, could represent a profound and powerful artistic liberation. Here, it’s not about speed or change, but about presence and the moment—something that remains accessible even through limited hearing.
Scelsi’s radical focus on the single tone could be seen as a metaphor for a deeper engagement with one’s own perception. It’s not the "perfect" sound that matters, but the expression of inner life that finds a voice through that sound.
Conclusion
For someone who expresses themselves through music, Scelsi’s approach may demonstrate that there are no limits to musical expression — only different ways of perceiving and experiencing sound. Even in the face of hearing loss or any other challenge, music can remain a deeply personal, creative act. It’s the connection to sound that matters — the way it resonates within us, physically or emotionally, rather than how perfectly we hear it.
Scelsi’s work is a reminder that music doesn’t need to follow the rules of Western harmonic tradition to be profound. His focus on the single tone, on the vibration that exists within sound, aligns with a much older and perhaps more intuitive way of experiencing the world—one that transcends intellectualization and speaks to our core. In drone music, as in Scelsi’s compositions, sound becomes a bridge to the subconscious, an invitation to lose oneself in the depths of a single, sustained tone.
What I’ve learned through my personal journey with sound and Scelsi’s music is that there is always space for reinterpretation and reinvention. While conventional methods of listening or composing might seem inaccessible, the essence of music—sound and vibration—remains open to exploration, even if experienced in different ways.
For Scelsi, the single note was a universe unto itself, filled with infinite possibilities. This resonates deeply with me, as I’ve come to appreciate that even with limited hearing, there’s a world of sound that can be engaged with, felt, and understood. Whether through physical vibrations or a heightened sensitivity to tonal shifts, this exploration of sound can open new doors to understanding music’s place in our lives and in our bodies.
Giacinto Scelsi’s one-note technique is, at its heart, an invitation to listen more deeply, to connect with sound on a fundamental level, and to experience the world in ways that are often overlooked or dismissed as too simple. Yet, in that simplicity lies profound depth, an opportunity to connect with the pulse of life itself. It’s through this lens that I’ve been able to embrace not just Scelsi’s music but my own relationship with sound — one that, while altered by hearing loss, has found new meaning in the resonance and vibration of a single tone.