By: Gerard Galois, as my final report for Tamrielic Music History 2: Second Era, 28th of Last Seed 2E 581

The number and variety of instruments available to High Rock musical ensembles has greatly expanded over the last century. Part of this is due to an increase in the popularity of composing for exotic imported instruments such as the Khajiiti esraj (however, the Argonian instrument which is full of live frogs has unsurprisingly not caught on). An even greater increase is due to several innovations in instrument manufacture which have greatly increased the dynamic and tonal ranges of a number of instrument families. The woodwind family has begun to see the addition of mechanical keys which have greatly expanded their accessible registers: a good clarinetist can play circles around an equally talented chalumeau player, for example. Rather than adding additional registers above and below the existing one, the horn family has begun to access notes between their partials: no longer is the sacqueboute with its cumbersome slide the only horn which can play a chromatic scale. The most radical innovation, however, is the saxophone. First introduced to the musical scene a few decades ago, its unique timbre has significantly influenced modern music composition and won it devoted fans and fervent detractors. The unique qualities of the saxophone are inextricably linked with the life experiences of its inventor, Antoine Sax. This essay details the life context, development process, and early impacts of the saxophone, and speculates on how its place in the High Rock music scene will continue to evolve.

Antoine Sax’s choice of instrument manufacture as a profession did not arise from nothing; in fact, his parents were both well-established artisans in Wayrest specializing in instrument repair and construction. They are best known for their invention of the “piston” valve for horns, which is currently a popular choice for valve construction. The Saxes claim the idea for the design arose from tinkering with Dwemer trinkets and scrap parts they bought from adventurers. Antoine was particularly taken with them, and spent many hours of his childhood dismantling Dwemer pistons and gears and incorporating them into instruments that he already had begun to design at a young age. Unfortunately for him, he spent far more hours of his childhood recovering from one of his many brushes with death. His family was convinced that the divines themselves ordained his death. When he could hardly yet walk he managed to topple out of an upstairs window, landing on his head on the cobbled pavement to the horror of onlookers. When he was a young child he was drawn to poisonous substances like a moth to flame: wood varnish, valve oil, rat poison, he got into them all. As a teen he was struck by a loose roofing tile; stunned, he toppled into the river and would have drowned if not for the quick actions of passersby. Finally, as a young adult he tripped and fell into the family’s woodstove. The right side of his body was severely burned and he regained only limited mobility with his right arm, which prevented him from playing his beloved instruments. Furious, he cursed the divines: while they didn’t manage to kill him they took away the only thing he loved. In his misery, Antoine developed a habit of pacing in front of the temple of the divines, hurling expletive-laden rants at the gods. In the middle of one of these tirades, he was happened upon by a priest of a most curious religion: a Clockwork Apostle, follower of Seht, the Clockwork God, one of the three “living gods” of the Dunmer. Upon hearing Antoine’s story, the Apostle quickly realized that the young inventor would be a great asset to their order. They promised Antoine that they could replace his arm with a perfected mechanical one if he agreed to join their order in the Clockwork City and put his talents towards projects which pleased the Tinkerer. Antoine eagerly accepted.

Soon Antoine had a new brass arm and began to work in the Clockwork City. Seht’s creations, which improved upon Dwemer technology and included the entire Clockwork City itself, ignited a passion in his heart which drove him to new creative heights. It is unknown whether Antoine ever spoke to the Tinkerer himself, but in any case, he delved into a topic in which Seht took a keen interest: tonal architecture. The manipulation of reality via sound appears in various ways across cultures: the complex magical tales of the spinners from the Bosmer, the raw power of the Nordic Thu’um, and potentially even the fabled lost Yokudan art of sword-singing. The most sophisticated form, however, is the tonal architecture of the Dwemer, which formed the backbone of their incredible technological achievements. Seht incorporated their ideas into his works and is keenly interested in continuing to master this magical technology. Antoine thought he could use Seht’s divine designs combined with his own knowledge of Breton-style instrument construction to build an instrument which could allow the player unprecedented precise control over tonal magics. It would have to be made of brass, of course; both the Dwemer and Seht agreed the metal was most conducive to tonal technology. The existing Breton brass instruments were all horns, but Antoine was not satisfied by the number of resonance frequencies allowed by such an instrument. It seemed natural, then, for him to try to make a brass version of a woodwind instrument he favored, the clarinet. This was an improvement from horns but still did not have the tonal flexibility he desired. He switched from a cylindrical to a conical bore to increase the influence of harmonic modes, but this was still insufficient. Finally, he gave up on playability and placed the tone-holes of the instrument at the ideal places with no regard to their reachability by human hands. With the assistance of multiple others, he was able to play the instrument, and was finally satisfied with its tonal range. But what use was an instrument that needed so much cooperation to play? Antoine set about designing an unprecedented system of keys, rods and levers which allowed a person with only two hands to cover all the tone-holes in numerous combinations with ease. These were the finishing touch; the saxophone was complete.

Antoine spent the next several months studying the tonal manipulations created by playing the saxophone. To his disappointment, the results were hardly extraordinary. There would be no manipulation of the hearts of dead gods as in the legend of Numidium; instead, there would be slight manipulation of the emotional affects of mortals. The tonally perfect saxophone moderately enhances the emotional response a listener has to the music played upon it. This result was shown via comparison to a saxophone that Antoine had accidentally dropped and dented, causing tonal misalignment but retaining musical functionality. Listeners could not distinguish the difference between the two instruments when emotionless long tones were played, but showed heightened emotional responses to the tonally perfect saxophone when music was performed. This meant that the saxophone was useless to Seht, who already developed technology to manipulate emotional affect with more precision and which required less skill to use. Discouraged, Antoine packed up his saxophones and returned to Tamriel. He travelled around High Rock aimlessly, using his saxophone to pay his way. The affect manipulation was excellent for busking. This caught the attention of other street performers and musicians, who were keenly interested in this entrancing new instrument. Antoine’s dreams of tonal mastery were not to be, but he would have a profound impact on music. He agreed to part with one of his precious few saxophones for a large sum of money, and from then on the saxophone took on a life of its own, independent of its creator. Its design was swiftly reverse engineered, and soon many instrument makers were hawking their own version of the saxophone. It maintained popularity with street performers who liked how well the sound carried; it quickly became a mainstay of the raucous musical ensembles at rowdy taverns; and, despite fierce resistance from the musical elite who see it as unsophisticated, it has even begun appearing in the professional ensembles which perform for the nobility. This swell of popularity can’t be chalked up to the tonal properties of Antoine’s original saxophones: the replicas created by Tamrielic artisans without access to the Clockwork City’s machining tools unfortunately lack these properties. Rather, it is likely that the saxophone has caught on simply because it sounds good.

The saxophone’s story has been a strange one. It was developed to be used for tonal manipulation but was unable to surpass the capabilities of existing technology. Then, through the wanderings of its seemingly-failed inventor, it found a solid foothold in lower-class musical venues. Even now it marches onward and upward into the most sophisticated music of our culture. It has the power of a horn and the flexibility of a woodwind. Its timbre can be made sharp and clear or soft and hazy. The sound of a choir of saxophones rivals the loudness of the royal herald trumpets’ fanfares and the sonorousness of the richest chords on the pipe-organ in the temple to the divines. It truly may be the greatest instrument of our time (note: the author may be biased, as he plays the saxophone). It’s incredible to think that our music would never have been enriched by its dulcet tones if its accident-prone inventor hadn’t toppled into that oven. Perhaps the divines never abandoned him after all.

~~~~~
tl;dr SAXOPHONE EMOTE WHEN ZOS?!?! (/joking)

(Extremely) loosely inspired by the plethora of injuries suffered by the real-life inventor of the saxophone, Antoine-Joseph "Adolphe" Sax.
If anyone actually reads this deranged and grammatically inconsistent essay on an incredibly niche subject matter, thank you and I hope you enjoyed!