Theremin Lessons By Holophone (Skype)

While spending an afternoon watching as many versions of the Zelda theme song as I could on YouTube, I discovered the Theremin--or rather, I discovered some level-10 nerd-type playing the Zelda theme song on a Theremin.

For the (hopefully) few of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, the Theremin is an electronic instrument that makes sound by sensing how close you are to its two antennas, which control frequency and amplitude. You never actually touch the instrument when you play it. It’s the kind of device that you’d expect to be a part of the future that we were promised, but never received (flying cars, full robot human racial integration, holographic best friends). In actuality, it’s from early 20th-century Soviet Union (aka pretty much the opposite of the future).

The rest of my afternoon was spent researching the instrument, which eventually led me to the Wikipedia page of Leon Theremin, who I came to realize is no less than the turn-of-the-century Russian equivalent of Lil’ Wayne.

Wikipedia is hardly the most trustworthy place on the web, but if I’m already making vastly presumptuous comparisons between music gods, I might as well round up and lean on its user-input data as complete, unaltered fact. With that in mind, at 17, Leon was already whipping up fly electronic inventions from his home laboratory (aka studio) in St. Petersburg. The article also mentions that near this time, his cousin and a singer named “Wagz” invited him to attend the defense of professor Abram Fedorovich Ioffe’s theories on the electron. A singer named Wagz? The last time I checked, monosyllabic nicknames ending in Z, X, or double-G are solely reserved for members of hip-hop entourages. This is the first piece of evidence to support my hypothesis.

During the Russian Civil War, Theremin teamed with the Bolsheviks as a wartime radio supervisor (aka DJ). When the White Army made it obvious that they were going to use his radio station to declare victory over the Bolsheviks, he gave his employees the day off and “detonated explosives to destroy the 120 meter-high antennae mast before traveling to Petrograd to set up an international listening station”--very possibly while high.

The story continues as Theremin patents his namesake instrument and goes on tour to the United States where he performs at Carnegie Hall and conducts the first-ever electronic orchestra. He started infiltrating the theremin into dance music (remixes), and while working with the American Negro Ballet(!), fell in love with a dancer named Lavinia Williams. Clearly not giving a fuck about the 1930s American socio-racial mores, Theremin divorced his Russian wife, and married the African-American (black) ballerina. For most of the 1930s, he spent his time completely obliterating his competition in the American electronic music scene from his New York studio. Then, in 1938, he was allegedly kidnapped by Soviet agents and taken back to Mother Russia, where he was sent to prison to work in the gold mines.

While Leon Theremin’s life seems oddly similar to Lil’ Wayne’s, Weezy is yet to invent a bizarre science-fiction cult instrument named in his own personal honor--though I sure hope that it’s in his future plans.

Having not gotten enough of the instrument itself, I retraced my steps back to the Zelda theremin theme and began obsessively watching Theremin videos, largely performed by a virtuoso Thereminist and budding internet celebrity named Thomas Grillo. I wanted to know what kind of person becomes a virtuoso on an instrument like the Theremin, and, secretly, also want to become a virtuoso on the Theremin, so I signed up for one of Grillo's Skype-based Theremin lessons.

While learning the tone structure of the instrument through my webcam, I sprinkled in a few questions about Tom’s interest in theremins and otherwise. It turns out that my assumptions were correct; the kind of person that becomes a virtuoso at the theremin is also an amateur holographer. In the age of flying cars and robot girlfriends, this interview may be considered lavish, but Thomas Grillo won’t be a household name until at least the year 2045, when the theremin actually seems fitting for the times. Here’s some of my conversation with online Theremin wizard. Unlike Leon, Grillo shares no similarities to Lil’ Wayne whatsoever.

Vice: So just to clarify, the Theremin is a weird, futuristic electronic instrument from the future, only it’s actually from Russia in the 1920s, correct?

Tom Grillo, Theremin Instructor/Virtuoso: Yes. The fact that the instrument was developed in the 1920s blows my mind. It’s way ahead of its time.

How exactly does it make sound? I’m not even touching mine right now and it’s totally wigging out on me.

It’s a non-tactile interface, so you can make all of the music just by moving your hands. There’s an electronic circuit inside and it has what we call oscillators. They’re found in synthesizers as well. When they’re on, they send a pulse of electronic signal through the rest of the circuit and out to the speaker and you get a sound. In the case of these BFOs (beat-frequency oscillators) you have two of them, which are inaudible. One is a fixed frequency that's slightly off. The second one is a variable frequency, which is controlled by our interactions with the fields that surround the antennas.

Nice, now the Theremin is heavily entangled with mid-century science fiction culture, right?

Yes it is. Unfortunately, Clara Rockmore, who was one of the best Thereminists there’s ever been, didn’t like the idea of Theremins being used in science fiction. She wanted to make sure that it was considered a classical instrument. Several Hollywood producers approached her to work on sci-fi films and she turned down every single one of them. It wasn’t used as much for music as it was for effect and scaring the audience out of their mind.

Were you originally drawn to it for its spooooky qualities?

Actually, I got into the Theremin as an impulse buy. I was helping a close friend of mine who is completely blind and works for NASA look for a keyboard. While I was checking some online shops that carried keyboards, I saw a few also carried Theremins. I bought it without knowing what it was and eventually I taught myself to play. It took me a few weeks to go from sounding like a catfight in a sewer to actually playing notes.

Wait a sec. You have a blind friend who works for NASA?

Yes I do--she does stuff for their websites. She’s a great keyboardist as well.

Just making sure I actually heard that. What else do you do besides excellently playing your Theremin.

Well, the Theremin actually occupies 80 percent of my time. I guess my other hobbies are things like… flight simulation… designing my website… photographing small objects for my family. I used to do holography back in the 80s and 90s.

You used to do what?

I used to do holography. That’s holographic imaging. I used to make holograms.

Cool. So I take it you're pretty invested in the future?

Ha. I like lot of techno stuff. I’m a total technoid. I’ve played other instruments like the violin, flute, and the piano for a while, but they’ve never captured my attention, not like the Theremin. I never get bored of the Theremin. The first thing I do when I wake up is turn on the Theremin and let it warm up--get my coffee and breakfast, check my email, then come back to the Theremin, start my rehearsals. Sometimes I might take a break on the flight simulator too.

You actually own a flight simulator?

I do. It’s not some great motion platform or anything, but I do have one.

Do you still do holography?

Unfortunately not. I live too close to a rail yard, so too many ground vibrations work into the optical layout and I can’t actually get a good hologram. It’s just not practical to attempt holography in this part of town.

I'm sorry, I've got no clue what you're talking about.

What holography does is make a 3D image that is recorded on a photographic film by splitting a beam of laser light, bouncing the light off another object, then recombining the two beams back at the photographic plate. If one of those beams is out of phase with the other, even by a wavelength of light or a thousandth of a millimeter, you won’t get a holographic image.

God, I wish I knew how to make holograms--I’d be so into a holographic remake of Blade Runner.

Well, if you’re talking about 3D free-floating apparitions, those will never happen. The physics don’t support it. You’d have to use lasers so bright that they would blind or fry you. You’re talking about illuminating molecules of air--it’s almost the way an aura works.

I feel like it makes a lot of sense that an online Theremin instructor would also be really into holography. Do you feel the same way?

Holography and Theremins almost go hand in hand, in that they almost work the same way. With holography, you’re splitting light, bringing it back together, and combining wave fronts. In Theremins you’re combining two different frequencies of sound to create yet another frequency of sound. You’re dealing with constructive and destructive wave fronts. It’s all about physics. It’s all intertwined really.

Were you at any point a scientist?

Not really. I dabble a bit in contemplating relativistic philosophies and that type of thing, but that’s really it.

When did you get into flight simulation?

When I was a kid I always wanted to be a pilot. Unfortunately there is this little problem that I’m legally blind. They won’t give me a driver’s license, so they definitely won’t give me a pilot’s license. The next best thing is flight simulation. I’ve been at it since the mid-80s and I’ve had every version of it.

It sounds like you weren’t made for these times Thomas. When the future actually happens and there are flying cars scooting all over the place and every band has three Theremin players, you’re just going to look at your watch and then yawn.

It’s just a lot of fun really.

BENJAMIN MAJOY

To take your own Theremin lessons on Skype, visit thomasgrillo.com.