instrumental MUSICIAN

CD REVIEW: A Time For Love

2010-08-06T17:20:00.003-04:00

CD Review: Arturo Sandoval A Time For Love

Concordjazz

When you pick up a CD by Arturo Sandoval, you expect to be captivated by virtuoso performances of fast bebop lines or hot Latin Jazz. A Time For Love captivates, but by lowering the blood pressure twenty points and drawing you into a world of soulful ballads. This is not a sterile “Sounds Of Romance” jazz recording, but another side of a trumpet virtuoso who is as comfortable in his execution of fast bop as he is with the lyrical ballad. So comfortable, the entire album is comprised of the latter.

A collection of instrumental and some vocal performances, Arturo Sandoval’s latest release includes refreshing renditions of well worn standards such as Charlie Chaplin’s Smile, the Kern-Harbach favorite Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, and the two Gershwin’s I Loves You Porgy. These are fittingly balanced with arrangements of Gabriel Faure’s After The Dream and Pavane (Op. 50), Maurice Ravel’s Pavane For A Dead Princess and Astor Piazolla’s Oblivion (How To Say Goodbye) which features vocalist Monica Mancini. Pianist Kenny Barron and trumpeter Chris Botti also make guest appearances.

The quartet of Sandoval on trumpet and flugelhorn, Shelly Berg on Piano, Chuck Berghofer on bass, and the album’s producer, Gregg Field on drums and percussion is backed on many of the tracks with string arrangements by Jorge Calandrelli and one Shelly Berg arrangement. Calandrelli’s arrangement of Johnny Mandel’s A Time For Love is especially entertaining as the strings and Sandoval chase each other through the melody.

The title may initially seem misleading as Sandoval explains in the liner notes. Some of the songs are love ballads, but the title also refers to the love of the blessings the trumpeter has to be thankful for such as family, friends, and, after defecting from Cuba in 1990, freedom. The recording is another side of a jazz icon and another side of jazz itself.

IN PRINT

2010-08-06T17:13:00.003-04:00

In Print: The Jazz Loft Project: Photographs and Tapes of W. Eugene Smith from 821 Sixth Avenue 1957-1965

by Sam Stephenson

Alfred A. Knopf

Sam Stephenson’s book contains photos and accounts of the many jazz musicians who were welcomed to assemble and jam at his New York apartment building. The top three floors of the building on Sixth Avenue in the industrial/retail section of mid-town Manhattan was inhabited by artists and musicians and allowed for late night jamming without complaints from neighbors.

821 Sixth Avenue was home to one of those rare circumstances in the history of musics where like-minded musicians and artists gathered consistently over a long period of time to collaborate, play music, and share ideas and experiences and further their craft without outside pressures or restrictions. Painter David Young, who resided on the 5th floor came to know some of the local jazz musicians in the early 50’s. He opened his loft to them for rehearsal space. Hall Overton, who was influential to notable musicians Steve Reich and Thelonious Monk, occupied the 4th floor where he would conduct music lessons. Musician Dick Cary occupied the 3rd floor.

W. Eugene Smith moved into half of Overton’s level to complete work on an ambitious project to document the city of Pittsburgh. The photojournalist became known for his front-line photography of WWII and was a popular photographer for life magazine. After setting up his apartment to sort through the thousands of photos taken in Pittsburgh, he eventually abandoned the project and turned his attention to life on the street outside his window and the musicians that came to his building.

In addition to taking thousands of candid stills of the musicians in action, Smith also wired the entire building with microphones and recorded just about everything. Details of the the music recordings and photos of the indexed open reel tape boxes abound throughout the book as well as transcripts and accounts Smith’s recordings of conversations, radio and television broadcasts, and musicians simply practicing. There is even a transcript of a recording of Smith talking about his recording equipment. The photos, though, are where interest in Smith as a photographer and the musicians who were there intersect. The list of jazz greats that stopped by is a long one, and the jazz great-but-unknowns is longer. A short list of photos of musicians featured in the book include Thelonious Monk, Jim Hall, Zoot Sims, Buck Clayton, Jay Cameron, Dave McKenna, Roland Kirk, Bud Freeman, Wingy Manone, Gus Johnson, and Bob Brookmeyer.

In addition to the black and white photos of the musicians, Smith also captures life on the street outside his window. These photos paint a vibrant picture of New York in the late 50’s and early 1960’s and provide additional historical context to the events occurring inside 821 Sixth Street: photos of men in suits with handkerchiefs in the breast pocket wearing fedoras and porkpie hats; ladies wearing gloves and trench coats; stenciled lettering on shop windows next to hand painted and neon advertisements; fire trucks with open cabs and police cars with the single bubble emergency light on the roof; whitewall tires on a passing car.

It must have been quite a scene. In one of the transcripts of Smith’s recordings from 1964, Zoot Sims and some other musicians discuss how the loft scene is regrettably coming to its end. They knew what they were a part of was something unique and are sad to see it go. W. Eugene Smith’s work and Sam Stephenson’s compilation of these efforts captures what they were going to miss.

Interview with Linda Dusman PART I

2009-11-15T20:00:00.005-05:00

The music of Baltimore based composer Linda Dusman is diverse. Her piece, Solstice, which she discusses further in this interview, is an adventurous exploration for students performing in concert band. O Star Spangled Stripes is a battle of wills between a snare drum and piano. Much of her music is intended for chamber performance, though she has created works for interactive and installation settings and is currently preparing a piece for orchestra.

Dusman takes inspiration from nearly everything around her. Even in pieces she has been commissioned to write, the music is based on ideas she finds compelling in literature, nature, the experiences of others, and other music. The music of other composers is also important to her in the study of music theory, which she teaches at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, in addition to music composition and instrumentation.

In this interview, Linda Dusman discusses the inspiration for her music, the concert experience, and offers advice to other composers

You write music for many different genres. How would you describe your music as a whole?

I think I’m pretty eclectic actually. I do not use traditional harmony. I don’t have objections to triads...[but] sometimes I don’t do that at all. It tends to depend on the situation and what it is I’m trying to convey. So I think in some ways I’m multilingual. I choose the language that I’m going to write in based on the situation. For example, I’m finishing up a piece right now that’s going to be premiered in October. Actually I thought it was finished two months ago, but I’m still working on it (laughter), still refining some things. You know how that goes. This was a piece inspired by an artist who I met at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. I did a residency there in February of this year. I just love this artist’s drawings...they felt very sonic to me. I wouldn’t say musical, but sonic. Somehow it felt like they evoked sound. I went to her studio and actually recorded her making these drawings. So then I had these sounds of pen strokes that were quite strange. I wanted to combine them with Michael Richards’ [Chair of the University of Maryland, Baltimore County Music Department] clarinet playing. He does a lot of noise-based extended techniques on the clarinet.

In that particular situation I was finding a single note that would, I felt, blend with the sounds of these pen scratches and then everything came out of that. Now that’s a very different situation from say, a wind ensemble piece that I did about ten years ago where I was asked to do a piece for a high school wind ensemble. There it was a different kind of audience. I really, as a composer, think of myself as somebody who is collaborating with the performer, the audience, and myself. So there are three entities involved in this, not just me, [and] I’m trying to find a way to teach people the piece, particularly if I’m working with unusual sounds and dissonant harmonies. I try to find a way to write the piece so that people can learn about it as they’re listening. That’s part of the reason I often have very evocative and slow moving openings: to kind of get people’s ears warmed up before I actually get into the meat of the material...to give them a chance to sort of wake up their ears, get a sense of the sound palette that I’m working with, and then take off and move in a certain direction with it.

I’m also very often influenced by extra-musical things. Things outside of sound themselves...literature, for example. I did a piece for flutist Lisa Cella and Jane Rigler’s duo. It was inspired by a passage from a Virginia Wolf novel. The passage says something like, they sat next to each other melting into each other with phrases. They formed an unsubstantial territory. I’m not saying it as well as Virginia Wolfe does, but it’s something to that extent. So when Lisa asked me to do a duo for her ensemble, this passage (I was reading The Waves at the time) struck me, the idea of two people together blending into each other with phrases and forming at the same time an unsubstantial territory. So it took off from there. I used piccolo and alto flute in that particular piece, two very dissimilar members of the flute family, to try to create that separateness, but then I used their overlapping ranges. They have a bit of an overlap in terms of ranges and certainly in terms of noises that the two of them can create. Within that [is] a kind of unsubstantial territory. They go apart, they come together. That’s an example of a concept or a piece of literature that inspired me to work on that piece in that particular way.

The wind ensemble piece, when I wrote for [high school] band, I started reflecting on, “What was it like for me in high school? What was it like to be there?” Because I’m writing now for students that are this particular age. I don’t remember high school with great memories, frankly. It was a very unsettling time for me. Puberty, all that kind of stuff, complications, emotional complications. So, I wrote this piece called Solstice that was actually bi-tonal to create in a bi-tonal framework these kinds of clashes. You feel like you’re OK, you’re in this tonal, particular key, and then suddenly this other key buts up against you creating some tension there. In that sense, it was a little bit, I think for the high school players, quite unusual because They’re used to playing straight tonal music. But, I felt like it communicated with them about my memories of that time.

You said you consider yourself, the performer and the audience when writing music. One of the things I enjoyed about playing music in high school was, playing the horn, I didn’t always have the prominent part, but usually there were fun parts written for the instrument. How much did that cross your mind as you were scoring Solstice?

I’m always trying to write parts that people enjoy playing. To me, that’s what gets communicated to the audience. If the performers are not enjoying the piece, there’s no way the piece is going to succeed. Of course, you can’t always control that. You can’t control if the high school bari sax player is going to be happy with the part, but I do try to think about that. And that’s something I try to encourage my students to do, too. To think not just about the overall ensemble sound, but the sound that each instrumentalist is playing so that they have something rewarding in their part in and of itself.

You mentioned the piece inspired by literature. I noticed a lot of your music is based on some literature or poetry. In addition, some relate to an idea or a situation. How does that differ from writing music with a freer approach like working intuitively?

Well, I think I do work intuitively, it’s just that I draw my inspiration from a variety of things. I certainly enjoy my ears, I enjoy listening to things, all kinds of things. So, not just music, but the sound of the world and the sounds of nature, urban landscapes, you know, I find interesting sounds all over the place. I enjoy my eyes. I enjoy what I see. The light on the water, the lace that trees in winter create against the sky. Literature; the kinds of emotional palette that’s available there, or the ability to kind of get inside someone else’s head, how someone else is seeing the world through what they write, helps me to know more about myself. [In] all these things, life is a process of learning about yourself, learning about other people. I look to the concept for the inspiration, but then once the music starts, I look to the music. I keep thinking about the concept until I begin to hear something. Once I begin to hear something, then I listen to that (laughter). I used to try to stick with the concept. I don’t do that any more. I think that’s been a change in the last ten or fifteen years. Now, I end up loving the sound. As a composer you fall in love with the piece (laughter). Then it’s all about the piece and the sound, not about something you’re trying to impose on it from the outside.

continued....see Part II

Interview with Linda Dusman PART II

2009-11-15T19:00:00.002-05:00

continued from Part I....

So you take your inspiration and allow it to grow...

Sonically.

When did you start composing music?

I always fooled around on the piano. I was always making pieces better. I grew up in a very small town. There wasn’t a very sophisticated musical environment where I grew up. I had a piano teacher who taught me from method books and stuff like that where a lot of times the music is pretty boring, so I was always adding stuff to make it better (laughter). The first time I actually just went off and wrote my own piece was for this orchestration class. My professor said, “If you want to write your own piece, you can. You don’t have to arrange someone else’s.” So I did that and it was a revelation to me. I felt so much happier doing that than being an interpreter. I really felt like my creative strengths were much more in terms of making something than interpreting something. Players have to be imaginative interpreters, and I never felt like I had a lot of imagination for interpretation. That was a struggle for me as a pianist, so this was like I [had] opened up a whole new potential for myself. At that point (I was 22 or 23) I decided I would spend ten years doing it and see where I ended up. Ten years down the road, I had a college teaching job as a composer. So I was sort of set: that was what I was going to do.

I’ve sometimes felt that there are two types, composers and performers.

Well, there are composer-performers. There are people who are composers who perform their own music and the music of other people. I think they’re different than people who are just composers or people who are just performers. They’re kind of a hybrid.

Three kinds...

There’s a hybrid, yes.

When I think of piano players that are great interpreters of, say, Beethoven, often these are not people who are known as composers.

No. Very often, I do think, performers do some composing because it’s satisfying to them. Composers do some performing because it’s satisfying to them, or they keep up their playing to be able to stay connected physically with the creation of sound. I think those are very good things to do. But, I think, at a certain point, it’s pretty hard to keep both up equally well, and you notice for yourself what your real strength is.

Have you found that it’s hard to balance composing and performing?

I don’t perform. My secondary area is music theory. So I write. I write articles and give papers at conferences and stuff like that. So, I also do some of that work. I find that that is very interesting, studying the music of other people. And, of course, it helps my teaching...I teach music theory. To keep exploring how does one look at a piece of music and come to understand it more deeply, that’s what music theory is for me.

In almost every genre of music, new releases and performances of new works are sought after. With music of the classical tradition, new works are considered to be a fringe component of the entire genre. Would you say that this perception is perhaps due to the fact that there are so many countless styles that are called “New Music,” or is there some other reason for this?

I think the recording industry is the cause (laughter). The fact that a hundred years ago at the turn of the century, you couldn’t listen to historic music, except if you went to a concert hall. So, for the most part, people were interested in whatever the composer of the day was up to. As a result, they were up on the music of their time. I don’t find that people today are up on the music of their times. They become attached to the music of some other time and its reiteration. So, people love Mozart, and then they go to concerts and they want to hear Mozart. And they’re upset if what they’re hearing doesn’t sound like that in some way. Because of the recording industry, it’s amazing now. Especially the world music area. Some small culture on an island, someplace that has their own kind of music, somebody will go there and record that and, boom, it’s broadcast all over the world. You can buy the CD, you can download it. There’s such a wealth of sounds out there now, and types of music. Contemporary classical music is just this little tiny...though there are many of us...I think the census said that there were twenty thousand people in the United States alone that called themselves composers...there are lots of us around, and doing lots of different styles. They don’t say what kind of composer they are.

To follow your analogy with world music, it might be difficult to find the world music that you enjoy out of all of that. I feel the same way with Contemporary or even American Classical music. There are so many different styles. There are tonal composers, avant-garde composers, and everywhere in between.

True.

It might be difficult to go to a new music concert with one thing in mind and, with four, five, or six works performed, chances are they’re going to be of very different personalities.

Yes.

I wonder if that’s why this music is on the fringe, or, even considered experimental music.

People need to come to contemporary music concerts with a sense of adventure. You have to come with open ears. When I was a student, I went to concerts practically every night of the week, and I would be really happy if there was one piece on the program that just really attracted me...that I really felt pulled to. Because it’s a polyglot. There are so many languages out there. The thing now is everybody’s trying to find their own voice. So, rather than previous eras where there was kind of an agreement about style and use of harmony and use of instruments, now it’s just wide open and everybody’s trying to figure things out for themselves.

Certain ensembles tend to be drawn to certain types of music. So, certain ensembles will have a stylistic bent that you can kind of predict what kind of music they’re going to play. That is one way to pick and choose. If you find an ensemble that you like, like their taste, that’s one way to do it.

There are some ensembles that are doing things like putting up on their website program notes in advance...putting up little audio samples so people can sample the music in advance, hear a little bit of what it’s about, and hopefully be intrigued to come. Or, make a decision that they don’t want to come. So I think part of it is educating, but...part of it too is...we’re in an era where we can get what we want pretty quickly. If we know we like “X,” we can download “X.” And then, you just listen to “X” (laughter), because “X” is what I like and “X” is what I can get access to right away and I’m an “X” person. As opposed to, “What’s out there?”...having that kind of curiosity. I say I go to a concert and I don’t like a piece, well, there’s always something in there that I listen to. It’s rare that I can’t shift my ears a little bit and find something interesting in whatever I’m listening to, whether it is the particular timbre of a thing, the tone color that somebody is using, or the rhythmic aspects of it. Sometimes I listen to contemporary pieces and I get just furious. I get angry. But I keep listening, and then something happens. Something shifts.

[I read that] when you hear things repeatedly, your brain cells actually change. I think that’s probably happened to me with contemporary music. I think I’ve listened to it so much now that when I hear something, I know which path to go down neurally. For people who haven’t had those neural pathways laid, I can see where it would be very frustrating. But I think the thing to remember is that as you listen, your brain will do that for you if you just don’t get up and storm out, or have the patience to sit with something. It does require patience, I think, and that’s not a bad thing to learn either. I think we’re a very impatient people these days. If my computer doesn’t boot and get me that thing right away, I’m just frustrated. You can’t bring that to a concert hall and be happy (laughter).

Composers are always interested in finding ways to have their works performed. What advice would you offer?

Two things. One, and these are just practical things, one is to join composer’s organizations where they send you what’s called a score call. You’ll get an e-mail announcement saying such and such an ensemble’s looking for pieces that involve tuba, violin, and tape. If you have anything like that, send it. You have to be constantly in the business of running to the post office as a composer, or e-mailing stuff out, or having stuff available on a website for download. The other thing is to find performers who are interested in the music that you write. So, if you have performers [who] are interested in your music, that gives you a steady pipeline of performances. But it only goes so far, right? Only as far as those performers are going to go, so it’s helpful to be able to send your music out to a wider network.

Would you recommend unsolicited contacts with ensembles?

If you feel like they’re into your type of music, yes. If you listen to their concerts and the music they tend to be drawn to is the kind of music that you write, then absolutely. If it’s not, then don’t waste your breath, I would say. [Just] blanket[ly] sending things out, I think, is just a waste of time, because it really doesn’t work that way.

You just signed with Silent Editions.

It’s just getting going. I thought it was an interesting concept for publication because sending out [a] paper score is just a thing of the past. Well, not completely, but, I think, like everybody else, performers are interested in instant access. So, to send an e-mail to a composer and have the composer get around to getting to the post office, unless you have a publisher to send it out to that person, it’s a very slow process. Giving performers immediate access is a great thing, or people who are interested in studying your music, that sort of thing. I haven’t found yet that Silent Editions has been a great source of performances, but as I said they’re just getting going and I’m supportive of the enterprise.

Would you suggest that composers who put scores on the internet also include audio files?

Yes. I think that’s a good idea too.

The Towson New Music Ensemble will be performing your piano Piano trio, Diverging Flints, this fall. Will this be the premier?

Yes.

In your writings you caution against attempting to summarize a musical phenomenon with a series of definitions. That being said, can you tell me about this piece?

(Laughter) Sure. When I was working on the violin and electronics piece five or six years ago, I came across a series of chords that I really liked in the musical material I was working with, but they weren’t going to work for violin. So, I sat those aside. Bill Kleinsasser, the director of the New Music Ensemble at Towson, asked if I would be interested in doing a piece for them. I had never written a piano trio. It’s an ensemble that I find very compelling. I love the sound of the string instruments. The piano, of course, provides the possibility for big harmonies. Big chordal sections [and] the balance of the string sounds. Composers have written piano trios for many many years and I thought it was something that I would like to give a try.

Diverging Flints is a quote from an Emily Dickenson poem. [It’s] the idea of two stones rubbing together. If those stones didn’t rub together, the sparks would never have occurred. Once the stones rub together and the sparks occur, the stones are actually different even though they may never touch again. One of the things I discovered about these harmonies was I would offset the groups of chords by one, and new harmonies occurred each time. So each time these flints would strike, there’d be a new series of sparks that would occur from offsetting the harmonies by one, by two, by three, and so on. I just became very fascinated with that. Some of the sections are more dissonant, some are more pure, more consonant...fifths, octaves...because of this offset. And the whole idea of something striking and sparks spraying out from it...there are flourishes like that. There are passages where the ensemble is very tightly metric. There’s meter that’s keeping them together, and parts when it’s not metric and it’s more free. Sounds happen more freely, but then they snap back into place again. I’m imagining that one of the more challenging things about playing it is playing free, then tightly metering it again. So, it’s always about the interaction of the performers when you’re writing a small ensemble like that, and in this particular case, them striking up against one another and the sparks that can fly when that happens. [That’s] the image that was in my mind when I was working on it and these chords, these harmonies, that I found that I liked embody that in sound.

This is a very dynamic piece. I think of it as a more dynamic piece than a lot of my music. Some of my music has been involved with slow, evocative things. This one isn’t like that. This one is highly energized, though there are some slow contrasting sections.

What’s next for Linda Dusman?

I have two pieces being premiered in October and another one in March. I’m going to be writing an orchestra piece for the UMBC orchestra that will [premier] next season. I’m starting an on-line publishing archive for music by women composers. Those are the big projects, and then, there’s always something. I have an idea for a piano piece. There’s a pianist in Italy who is interested in that piece when I get around to doing that. A [solo] piano piece may come out of the piano trio that I wrote. I did a piece for the Rivers School New Music Festival in Massachusetts and they asked me if I might be interested in doing another piece for their next new music festival. I’m working a couple years out now knowing what’s on the horizon for the next project. Usually while that one’s cooking, something else comes up. I’m busy.

Eric Zuber: After the Concert

2009-10-09T14:14:00.005-04:00

Pianist Eric Zuber recently performed Beethoven’s Piano Concerto #5 (with piano accompaniment) and Liszt’s B minor Sonata in Baltimore. I caught up with him afterwards to ask a few questions.

How do you prepare for a performance?

There are many facets to preparation for a concert. First of course, you have to commit the music to memory and fully understand it. (Hopefully you are given enough time to do this. When

you have to play something in public without having been given adequate time, it's often doubly nerve-racking.) Then you have to try and play it for as many people as possible before the concert date. If you try a public performance of a work that you've only learned and

played for yourself, it's liable to be a huge disaster. Everything changes when there are other ears besides your own. On the performance day I try to avoid eating things with salt (which causes your heart to pump faster) or sugar (which can cause a rush of energy followed by drowsiness). Other than that I try to be as normal as possible, otherwise your brain starts to feel like it needs to get activated for a big event, and that can lead to unease. Some people don't like to touch the instrument on the day they play, or just enough to keep warm. I tend to practice a lot on the performance day, hopefully inundating my short-term memory with the music to avoid lapses.

How do you practice?

I practice around 5-6 hours a day these days, which seems to be about the maximum I'm capable of without hurting myself. I try to be very careful about listening to what my body is telling me so as to avoid injury. Practicing piano when you are playing difficult, tiring works such as the Liszt Sonata is extremely taxing on the ligaments of your arm. If you turn your arm upside down so that your palm is facing you, and place your left thumb over your right wrist (as if taking your pulse) and wave your fingers in the right hand up and down, you can see how much activity this causes in your arm muscles. This constant extension and contraction combined with the enormous amount of force that it takes to produce a loud sound can easily cause injury if you aren't careful about it. Piano playing at a high level is extremely athletic... more so than most people are aware of. Of course, if I could stand it I would practice 24 hours a day. The more refined your ears hear nuances in the music, the more you have to practice in order to refine your own playing. If I'm not satisfied with my playing, and I know I'm not giving it my all in preparation, I come off the stage feeling disappointed.

Can you offer any other tips to a performer working on pieces such as these?

For the Liszt Sonata, practice the fugue! But I'm sure if they are playing the piece, they probably already know that...

Authenticity

2009-10-08T14:13:00.001-04:00

I recently read Sing Me Back Home by Dana Jennings. The book details the role of county music (authentic country music – think Hank Sr. and Johnny Cash) in post-war rural U.S. up to the mid 1970’s. By painting a picture of the poor in that time period from first-hand experience, Jennings points out the parallels in the music and lyrics and illustrates why that music was relevant to so many at the time and is still important to this day with those that have come from that era and circumstance.

The point is clear that this music meant something to Jennings and those he knew because listeners identified with it and it was authentic. Lyrics about cheating, being busted, doing time, or just getting by when things aren’t going your way were familiar. The delivery, instrumentation, and arrangements often reflected the subject better than the lyrics. People who were still using an outhouse in the 1960’s could relate to this music.

This measure of a music’s worth seems to get lost at times in the art/business/manufacture of music. While music is definitely a reflection of the artist that created it, the measure of how it relates to others is a very important component. Think about it: if an artist is a member of a society, the art created will reflect existence in that society (sometimes in recognition and approval, sometimes indifferent, and sometimes protest). The artist will embrace the possibilities and the result is often a reflection of the times.

There are many instances where it seems that a music was formed in such a state of detachment in striving for a unique voice that the music is, while original, difficult for anyone else to relate to in that time. Who does that serve? How can music like that be considered authentic? To be clear, I’m not referring to an audience’s reaction to The Hammerklavier Sonata in 1818 or Eruption to those in 1978. While these both were shocking in their depth and exploration, they were rooted in a heritage that made these pieces culturally relevant. That made them relatable. That made them great works of art. That made them successful. What I’m referring to is the instances where manufactured elements drive the creative process. That leads me to the greatest hero of all composers: Arnold Schoenberg.

Schoenberg struggled with how to compose music after tonality had been dismantled by the Romantic trends occurring in classical music. At first, he was handling things quite well. Transfigured Night and even the less accessible String Quartet No.2 are compelling pieces I enjoy listening to, but he longed for tonality. Trends were moving past the conventional ordering of tones that had been guiding composers and consumers of music for some time, and it appears that he was unable or unwilling to use this structure for new compositions. His output illustrates that the freedom provided by atonality was not a favorable alternative. His solution was to invent his own method of ordering pitches where all tones had the same importance…12-tone music. The result was that the composer was enslaved by his own invention and there are likely volumes of great music that were never written due to this self-imposed struggle.

While some may argue that this reflects his time in a search for order and stability before the Great War, I wonder how those around him related to the music. Did they share a similar quest and identify with the elements of 12-tone music? Accounts I have come across show an overwhelming rejection of this approach by audiences. Why is that? Is it because his works in this style were just bad? If so, why has the practice fallen so far out of favor only 100 years later? It is rather unfortunate that Schoenberg influenced so many others to work in this method given the results and the relevance. I am only thankful that Wozzeck was primarily an atonal work.

So why is Schoenberg the hero? He demonstrates by his example that creating music in a test tube is doomed. While there may be a few unique and memorable pieces, the majority will fail by falling outside the collective experience. On the other hand, he does illustrate by his example that trying something new and seeing the results is not altogether a bad thing: If you are unhappy with the results, there is still the lesson learned. He did eventually abandon the 12-tone method in his later works. This might have happened after realizing that most 12-tone music sounds like the bumper music in the original Star Trek TV series (had he lived to see that).

Most great musicians, songwriters, and composers spend hours in solace working out ideas, finding an original voice and style of expression, and preparing and honing their craft without distractions. The truly great ones also keep an ear to the rail to see what else is happening to be better able to share what they see with the rest of us. At the very least, we cannot help but reflect the times and place in which we live.

BOOK REVIEW: The Indie Band Survival Guide

2009-10-07T14:12:00.001-04:00

Book Review:

The Indie Band Survival Guide

Randy Chertkow and Jason Feehan

St. Martin’s Press New York

The internet has greatly increased opportunities for the independent artist to promote and distribute music. As a result, being signed to a major label or having a distribution deal is not as critical as it once was to be able to reach a wide audience. In fact, the Indie Band Survival Guide argues what is becoming more apparent as record labels lose their prominence and traditional function: surrendering the rights to your music and artistic control to the recording industry is not as desirable as it once was to musicians in the past.

Though a lot of the tips and techniques presented may be common knowledge for independent artists who have been active in the past ten years, the detail and organization of the ideas will serve as a good checklist for people in this category in addition to a few ideas that may have been overlooked. The book would also serve beginners well by outlining marketing basics, how to use the web effectively, employing your organization, and navigating the at-times mystical recording process from start to finish.

In addition to the how-to aspect of the book, some interesting background is given as to the state of the music industry and the best way to work in it. Does payola still exist in the music industry after the 1962 conviction of Alan Freed? How does that affect an independent artists approach today? How does the decreasing prominence of the large recording company actually benefit the independent artist?

Because so much of what an artist can do to promote music is done on the web, a large part of the book is devoted to describing the tools and features that are uniquely relevant to musicians while offering additional resources for those that are unfamiliar with the web in general.

Being an independent artist means wearing many different hats. A short list includes sales, marketing, networking, record producer and distributer, promoter, and web designer. And then there’s the music. The Indie Band Survival Guide offers tips to handle these aspects as well as getting the right help from others. Overall, the book is a great resource for musicians who want to get their music out there.

CD REVIEW: Sprinting Gazelle

2009-10-06T14:11:00.001-04:00

Reem Kelani

Sprinting Gazelle

Palestinian Songs from the Motherland

and the Diaspora

Fuse Records CFCD048

The ten tracks of this disc are presented as the result of the research conducted by Reem Kelani of the music and poetry of the Palestinian people from the past and still practiced today. In addition, many of the tracks are arranged by Kelani and some of the music is composed by her. Though the music represented is usually performed on indigenous instruments, some arrangements merge the styles and instrumentation of the Middle East with Western instrumentation such as piano and double bass.

The opening track demonstrates the complexity of the vocal style from this region, and Kelani recreates these with ease. Vocal trills and leaps as well as sustained notes that stand alone against a drone accompaniment are the highlight of the opening.

The orchestration is increased for The Cameleer Tormented My Heart. Though the instrumentation and arrangement are refined, the track retains an attractive raw quality that has a compelling groove. Many tracks feature the authentic instruments such as the yarghul (similar to a clarinet but with two pipes), nay (end-blown flute), and daf (open drum with metallic ringlets). It is interesting to hear them in ensembles that sometimes include piano, saxophone, and string quartet.

Several tracks demonstrate the mix of Western musics. Galilean Lullaby finds the folk elements along with instrumentation and moods found in jazz and acoustic rock ensembles. Above this, the vocal presents the lyric with microtonal slides and goes between melismatic decorations, melody, and recitation. During Il Hamdillah, Kelani sings sections in portamento leaps that would be the envy of a Moog synthesizer.

The album is an enjoyable presentation that boasts the complex arrangements this music is capable of in a way that remains focused and entertaining throughout.

Ideas and Approaches for Songwriters

2009-10-05T12:56:00.001-04:00

Introduction

I had a conversation with a friend regarding music. He was becoming frustrated with his attempts at songwriting and asked for my help. There are many ideas circulated by many songwriters on the subject – from the tried and true to the questionable, but I knew that exercises were not what he was looking for. I offered my own beliefs on the matter and attempted to do so in a way that would not set rules to be followed, but allow for free expression. The results were impressive. The following is a reproduction of my thoughts from that meeting.

Beginning the process

Music or Lyrics

This is an old question that has plagued songwriters honing their art, mainly because there is no right answer. Even writers who have had success with one method will have breakthroughs working from the other direction. I find that the title is often most helpful in focusing ideas. But, having said that, I can think of several of my own pieces where the title came after the entire composition was complete.

Finding Inspiration – First Instinct

Songs should be as unique as the composers that create them. Because of this, it may not be helpful to say, “Write about this or that and try using these chords.” There are, however, some things I find constructive.

In writing music, it is often the case that the first idea or solution you come up with is the best thing for your piece. In some cases, you may have to work out some rough spots so that it fits exactly what it is you want to say, but don’t disregard it if it doesn’t feel right at first. Moments that don’t fit what you are working on can also be great for a song you write at a later time.

The first instinct approach can break times of slow progress or “writer’s block.” If, after hours of work, your songwriting session is not productive, try giving it a break for a while. Then come back to your guitar, piano, or legal pad, and begin to tinker with the first thing that comes out. Usually there is a bit of an idea that turns into what you were trying to say all along. I have found this technique to be very useful, but have also found that there are days when no songwriting should take place, and other days when it is necessary to write three.

Lyrics and Melody

The best songs come from ideas and feelings that are important to you. In addition to being a platform for communicating these thoughts, songs can serve to express what would be difficult with words alone. Everyday occurrences, from conflict to harmony, can be the basis for an idea if the thought resonates in you and you desire to express what you think. Follow your passions…and your gut. From this point of view, anything is possible. But keep this in mind: “It’s all been done,” so make your ideas as unique as yourself.

Not to say that each piece should be a revolutionary reinvention of language and music as we know it. In serving the message and the intent, it is almost always better if it is not. In song, music serves the lyrics the majority of the time. Overcomplicating a piece with unnecessary levels of complexity in the music can render the entire effort useless.

The lyrical component is an art in itself. There is an approach that is very popular today where the details are spelled out so clearly on the most basic level that there is no room for the imagination of the listener. When lyrics provide a level of depth and imagination, the results can be the difference between an “OK” song and a timeless one.

One of the things I enjoy most about a song is when there is room for interpretation of a message on different levels. A song is about one particular idea, but the thoughts expressed could easily apply to something seemingly unrelated. This doesn’t have to be extremely complicated, but the application of this art in the lyrical content can prevent the song from being too shallow.

Melody can be added to the chicken-egg complex of songwriting. So now is it music, lyrics, or melody? Because the melody is so closely related to the lyrics, I put this in a different category than “music” as a whole. Since it can come before or after the lyrics, and any riff or chord progression for that matter, the gut reaction process can be applied. Most lyrics are sung, so sing anything. Nonsense words, sounds, rhythms. This approach will sometimes not only reveal a melody to begin with, but also help key into a particular word or phrase that you find interesting.

Your interest is key. The level to which you are excited about your melody or an aspect of your song will directly translate to the amount of interest for the listener. For example, a monotone string of eight notes may serve a section of a song well at first, but it will soon become background especially if it is used for several verses with the text boxed in to fit the rhythm.

Because of this, it can be helpful to begin to fuse the lyric and melody early in the process. Word choice has an impact on the melody, and rightly so. Lyrics will sometimes have to be adapted to fit the melody, but this isn’t always a bad thing. The results can be quite interesting and memorable. The melody, though, can serve as a powerful guide in focusing the lyric.

Form And Poetry

Most songs, especially pop, follow the well-known verse-chorus-etc. format. Working within a structure such as that can help focus ideas, but they should not be followed unquestionably as an absolute. Sometimes doing so can wreck an otherwise good piece. There is a trend that has been developing for many years to blur the lines between the sections of a piece, some with good results. It’s not a matter of one being better than the other, but it’s important that the form (if any) serves the expression. With regard to the “hook,” I don’t think it is a requirement that it occur in the chorus. Unique and memorable moments don’t need to be dogmatically relegated to the same place in every song. For that matter, it doesn’t even have to be in the vocal or melody.

Rhyming verses and structure within the poetry of a song is a good approach, but not always the best answer. Unless it is your intent, rhyming clichés should be avoided. Sometimes a word that ends a phrase that breaks the rhyme scheme can have a dramatic effect. The expectation of the rhyme in lyrics can make a piece more compelling, but sometimes when a rhyme is anticipated from around the corner, it might be more interesting to go in another direction.

Continuing and Focusing Ideas

Once you are at the point that you have some thoughts down, a topic, maybe a verse, the start of a chorus; try to resist the urge to just pile up ideas to create a song. You should always keep the musical bits that you come up with, and don’t dam up any lyrical download that you may have, but keep in mind what it is you are trying to say. This is especially useful to remember if you have become stuck or unsure what to do next. Digging into a word, phrase, or melody you already have can be quite revealing in where the song should go next. Stream of consciousness on a part can be helpful as well. That being said, when working out ideas, especially lyrics, I find that it is best to write first and edit later. Some ideas can be so fleeting that they get lost if transformed when working to make them fit.

Demo and Critique

Even if your song has a detailed accompaniment, solo sections, and harmonies, try recording it in its most basic form once you have completed writing. Voice and instrumental accompaniment recorded on any format, boom box to digital studio, will reveal your composition’s strengths and potential weaknesses. If you are happy with the results, then try adding other players or overdubbing parts as needed.

Everyone has opinions of the songs they hear, and it won’t be surprising if they are different from yours. Still, you should seek feedback from others. Especially from those willing to be objective. This doesn’t mean that you have to follow any suggestions for change, but this is, after all, the intention of song – to be heard by someone other than the author. See what happens. Most important, though, is that it is your idea being expressed and you get the final say in what you think is right and how good the piece is.

IMQ Fall 2008

2009-10-03T13:58:00.001-04:00

Popular music is not always intended for focused appreciation by an attentive audience, and for that reason, I was somewhat apprehensive in compiling this issue due to the intent of this publication. On the one hand, popular music is defined as music that places very few demands on the listener and performer. On the other, there are elements of its heritage that are relevant to practitioners of any genre. Anything from technology’s impact on music to how a culture is defined in its era by music can be most easily traced by a brief survey of this genre. In addition to this point, my worries were finally eased when I considered that sometimes a solid four-four and some loud guitars are the only things that will do.

It is generally accepted that popular music is a loosely defined genre as well as an umbrella definition of many other specific styles such as rock, jazz, and country. In this issue, a few of the sub-categories will be covered.

The art of songwriting is relevant to nearly every category of popular music. This is addressed in Ideas and Approaches for Songwriters which is a reprint from a pamphlet originally published in 2006. Rock music is the subject of the essay The Pursuit of Artistic Expression In Rock and Roll. Though not intended to be the definitive treatise on the subject, it will hopefully generate some lively discussion on the topic.

Speaking of which, we have enjoyed the feedback from the last installment and encourage you to continue letting us know what you think.

REVIEW: RUSH Snakes and Arrows 2008

2009-10-03T13:56:00.003-04:00

Rush returned to the Nissan Pavilion continuing their 2007 tour supporting the latest studio release, Snakes and Arrows. As the group has done with several other tours, selections from the performances of the current tour was released as Snakes and Arrows Live in April of this year.

Like other groups that tour arenas, Rush had all of the big production toys at it’s disposal including laser lights, computer controlled spots, super troopers, pyrotechnics, smoke machines, and projection screens. With the exception of the overuse of the strobes that were at the performer’s eye level, the arena add-ons were used conservatively.

The closed circuit big screens are necessary for those far away to get some close-up views, but surprisingly, they weren’t used consistently throughout. They were important for the pre-recorded video shorts, which paced the show well. The skits featured the band members as well as Jerry Stiller and the South Park Kids and added charm to the show through the band’s self-effacing humor. The group’s musicianship and solid performance nearly renders these extras unnecessary, but they were used tastefully and added to the performance.

Aside from the near cult following that Neil Peart receives, the strength of this band is its songwriting. It was apparent from the audience response that even though all the members of the group are known for their virtuosity on their instruments and widely respected as players, their songs are what draws the crowds. The group doesn't suffer from a lack of interest in their new material as much as can be the fate of other established acts that have been at it for over thirty years. The big hits are what most came to see, but many were singing along with the material off their new album as well.

The show opened with their hit from the eighties, “Limelight,” and was followed by some proven crowd pleasers such as Freewill, Red Barchetta, and Trees. These were mixed with newer tunes like Larger Bowl, Between the Wheel, and one of their latest instrumental offerings, Main Monkey Business. It was obvious that the group was having a lot of fun with the performance while at the same time remaining focused during some of the more intricate moments. This was apparent during Mission, a recent addition to the set list of this tour. This piece begins as a standard progressive rock-pop tune, but soon leads to moments of orchestration and arrangement that go beyond simply being a bridge or interlude. Peart shifts between set playing and percussion which includes an electronic vibraphone. The part for this as well as the timing between the other players was very intricate and exciting to watch.

Freewill similarly demonstrated the group’s chops as the instrumental section broke into an entertaining solo duel between guitarist Alex Lifeson and bassist/vocalist Geddy Lee. Performances in the past years found Lee behind the keyboard for most of the show splitting time between keyboard and bass duties with the bass still strapped on at the ready (all the while performing the lead vocals). For most of the tunes at this show, the group was relying mainly on the power trio set up. The less prominent keyboard parts in some songs were triggered by foot pedal at the microphone set up away from the keyboard.

There were no opening acts for this performance, and the band took an intermission before continuing the three and a half hour concert. The group returned to perform some more recent songs such as Far Cry and Working Them Angels. Even though these were lesser known songs than their radio hits, the audience was carefully following Peart’s playing. Many next to me in the audience demonstrated their knowledge of the cymbal crashes and tom fills as they “air drummed” the parts. Rather than simply playing a beat, Peart creates drum arrangements that are more than just background or rhythm for a piece. Some of their songs even contain essential hooks in the drums and percussion. Lifeson also had his share of fans. His solos were often applauded in the same manner that an audience would praise a soloist at a jazz concert.

Halfway into the second set, the much anticipated drum solo is performed. Peart has taken the role beyond the obligatory cliche and performed a musical tapestry of drums, percussion, and electronics. Some parts were set against sequenced and prerecorded instruments. The crescendo of the solo was Peart performing Count Basie’s One O’Clock Jump to a prerecorded big band.

The group then performed Hope, 2112 Overture, and the radio hits Spirit of Radio and Tom Sawyer. The conclusion of the show was the anticipated encore of three songs ending with the immensely popular instrumental YYZ.

The band performed with the accuracy expected of a group that has been on tour this long and performing together for over thirty three years while not appearing to be fatigued at the conclusion of this long tour.

The pursuit of artistic expression in Rock and Roll

2009-10-03T13:50:00.001-04:00

Progressive and Roll has not yet turned sixty. By our standards, this vehicle for rebellion and innuendo is not yet ready for retirement. Still, the genre has gone through several transformations during this period. Rock and Roll was a welcome alternative to the acceptable forms of popular music in the early 1950s. The language was simple. Harmonically, usually no more than a few chords. Rhythmically, a danceable four-four time without much syncopation. Lyrics that were veiled only when it came to taboo subjects. So if Rock and Roll is the language of rebellion, is there room for artistic expression that exceeds the simple, yet powerful intent of the music and can the genre support a refinement that it rebelled against in the first place?

Musicians that seek to play Rock music that has more artistic aims than originally intended must also transform the aesthetics of the genre. The raw elements must be refined because as they are, they limit this approach. The instrumental technique and lyrical intent must be refined to achieve meanings not possible with the raw elements. Other genres have been faced with this problem. Country artists merged the harmonic complexity of jazz and the rhythmic variety from swing music to form a new style that was more suitable to their direction.

Rock and Roll musicians began to realize this and artists began to yearn for the ability to create serious music in a genre that was not intended to support these designs. Besides the social and political pulls that affect music from any period, there were two other elements that supported this evolution: technology and one-upmanship.

Rock musicians are always on the lookout for some new way of expressing themselves through adding unique elements to their music and there is never a shortage of creative spirit to provide new tools and toys to meet that demand. The list is probably most impressive in the realm of the guitar and guitar accessories.

Outboard effects helped enhance the sought after overdriven sound. Modulation effects such as the Wah Wah gave the guitar new expression. Time delay effects such as the Echoplex went beyond reverb to add another dimension of sustain to the instrument. Changes to the instrument itself followed. High gain pickups were essential to increasing the sustain of the instrument that paved the way for modern performance practice.

The vibrato arm which is often mislabeled tremolo and was simply a novelty in most early Rock and Roll had been refined from affecting the strings with a mild change of pitch to the floating tremolo which could drastically alter the tension on the strings higher or lower and allowed for the “dive bomb” effect popular in guitar music from the 1980s and 90’s.

Higher gain guitar systems also allowed the playing style to evolve. The sustain and compression of high gain setups allowed legato lines to be reproduced almost as clearly as picked or strummed notes. For example, where an acoustic player would have to pick each note in a string of several notes for the line to be heard, players would only have to pick the first note on each string and hammer on or pull off to the next note as in a trill. This was even taken the point where simply fretting a note and pulling off gave the string enough energy to be heard clearly without picking. Players could now use the picking hand to “hammer on” or “tap” a fretted note. This two handed tapping technique was exploited by players in the late 1970 (most notable Eddie Van Halen) and is still popular today.

The other instruments of Rock and Roll have similarly been transformed by technology. Pianists no are longer limited by the obvious logistics the large instrument creates, or whether the one available at a performance would be of a certain quality (or in tune) thanks to the digital age. Sampling technology and portable keyboards made the instrument easier to set up than an average guitar rig, and it was always in tune. Rock musicians often turned to the organ or electronic keyboards before synths and digital pianos were available, but now the acoustic palate is only limited by what presets are available in the memory banks.

Similar advances have been made in bass guitar and drum technology, studio recording, and live sound reinforcement. All of these changes have created new possibilities, but they also transformed the genre.

The other element that has spawned the evolution of Rock and Roll is simply a matter of trying to outdo the last generation, or even the latest release by another artist. It is often this drive that causes a certain style of playing or sound to be vogue and another passe. It has also driven Rock musicians (mainly guitarists and drummers) to strive to be the fastest and most technical player. These efforts are periodically undone when other players come into the spotlight that change the aesthetics of the genre to stress other areas of music and move technical ability to the background. A recent example of this is the “Grunge” movement which supplanted virtuoso Rock and hair metal.

The technological advancements and the quest for new forms of expression led to high volume instrumentation that spawned a new harmonic vocabulary. Guitarists began using the power chord. This device was both a convenience and a necessity. The chord removed the third scale degree form the root-thrid-fifth composition of the conventional major/minor chords. Removing this note made the chord easier to play and reinforced the ambiguity between major and minor tonalities that was inherited from the blues. The necessity lies in the overdriven sounds created when amplifiers were driven to distortion. The overtones created by the third in a chord when distorting the electric guitar clash with the other harmonics of the chord, especially when played in the tenor range of the instrument. Though this new vocabulary seemed simpler, it generated a more powerful “wall of sound” especially when the root is doubled in the bass than more complex harmonies. The new possibilities of this simplified harmony made heavy metal music possible. Early groups in this genre relied heavily on power chords combined with unison single note lines. These elements were combined in a cyclical theme that would usually repeat every four or eight measures and constituted the riff, or the guitar part of a song that serves as the hook. In this example, simplifying the materials actually created more possibilities.

Along with expanding the genre’s capabilities with technology, players also wanted a deeper musical expression than Rock and Roll is capable of. The most recognizable adaptation is the expansion of the form beyond the three minute Verse-Chorus-Verse-Chorus-Solo-Chorus formula. Some Rock artists went so far as the recreating large classical works and composing original music that was on that scale. Often in these large arrangements, the melodic instrument, mainly guitar or keyboard, would play a larger role than simply being spotlighted during the solo of a three minute tune. This approach led to a renewed popularity of the Rock Instrumental. Whenever players do this, they no longer are playing Rock and Roll, but playing in or creating a sub-genre of Rock that retains some of the core elements such as instrumentation and playing style.

Broadening the scope of the possibilities inherent in Rock and Roll has led to some memorable achievements in composition and instrumental technique. Pop Rock artists have become more sophisticated in how they reflect the culture of their time and Progressive Rock groups continue to stress the importance of precision in performance that is similar to the tradition found in classical music. There are hundreds of sub-genres of Rock music and each have their own unique take on the aesthetics that identify them, and at their core are the elements that define Rock and Roll, but the more complexity that is added to a sub genre the further it gets from the original. This is not a bad thing, but it’s good to know that Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly will always be relevant.

Concert Review: The New Music Ensemble at Towson University

2009-06-12T19:19:00.005-04:00

“Full Color Music”

Performers:

Celeste Blasé, violin, Jeffery Howard, violin, Jennifer Rende, viola, David Shumway, cello, Lisa Cella, flute, E. Michael Richards, clarinet, Lura Johnson, piano, Barry Dove, vibraphone and percussion. The three large ensemble pieces were conducted by Julien Benichou.

The concert included four pieces of music from four composers written between 1955 and 2004. The first, Circle Dance, composed by Burton Beerman, was performed by the string quartet portion of the ensemble directed by Benichou.

This piece artfully bridged elements of popular contemporary music with more adventurous possibilities. The three movement piece began with reminisces of Appalachia, then a reflective middle section followed by a spirited ending. The composer paints textures like Bartok and Debussy with an American style similar to the works of Edgar Meyer. Under Benichou’s restrained and subtle direction, the quartet painted backdrops that were executed with clarity and precision and brought this work to life with relaxed conviction.

The ensemble regrouped as a sextet to perform Pierre Boulez work from the mid eighties, Dérive I (so named due to the subsequent revision by the composer).

The cacophonous exclamations associated with Boulez' music were well executed by the ensemble. During subtler sections, the ensemble generated a rich mass of sound that gave the illusion that there were more than six performers on the stage. The many crescendos retained this warmth and were prevented from becoming shrill. The ensemble’s awareness and sensibility also allowed the counterpoint of the music, in some ways, the most interesting element, to be heard clearly.

Giacinto Scelsi’s Hyxos from 1955 was performed by Lisa Cella on alto flute and Barry Dove on percussion. Scelsi treated the flute as the main voice and relegated the percussion to the role of accompanist . Barry Dove gave this role life with his thoughtful execution of the part. He easily juggled the necessary sticks and mallets to get the timbres called for from two Indonesian gongs and cowbell. Lisa Cella’s full, rich tone was the star of this piece and she easily brought out Scelsi’s jazz and blues influences through the modal and pentatonic textures. The percussion did get a more prominent role in the third movement, and there was a nice moment when the tuned gong provided a pedal tone for the melodic lines that led to the conclusion. The players executed their parts with authority and navigated the at times awkward piece with ease.

The concert was concluded with Charles Wuorinen’s New York Notes from 1982. The sextet that also performed Derive I was again employed for this piece. As the title implies, the piece attempts to recreate, at times very literally, the sounds and pace of the Big Apple. Similar to Jimi Hendrix’ transformation of sounds in the environment to music, Wourinen’s careful instrumentation transformed this environment from the noise that it can be to a compelling piece of music. The well-traveled twelve-tone techniques from earlier in the century were present in the beginning of the piece, but the composer didn’t cling to those atmospheric devices for long.

The first of three movements ended with a unified texture that carried into the next. The second movement painted a slightly confused calm with an underlying energy that reflected the first's and foreshadowed the third. In fact, this tension was so well developed that even though harmony begins to win out in the end as it battles dissonance, it is clear that complete resolution of the piece has not yet occurred.

The final movement was an explosive release of the energy that had been building up. This fast and intricate movement was guided enthusiastically by Benichou, whose animation matched the intensity of the performance. The piece concluded by reducing the turbulent third movement to a series of gestures punctuated at the end by a single fortissimo strike of the timpani.

The concert was a virtuoso presentation of pieces that are representative of some important and entertaining works out of recent decades. The works chosen reflected the enthusiasm for exploration in the music of the fifties to the bold reflective elements of the following decades and a sampling of the current trends in music of the present.

Stuart Saunders Smith, An American Composer Part II

2008-06-01T14:00:00.004-04:00

Does your interaction with your students at the University have an effect on you as a composer and what you think about when you write?

It has no relationship to what I compose. What I’m noticing is that the students seem younger and younger but of course the actual thing is [that] I’m getting older and older and they look more like my grandchildren than even my children (laughter). So that’s changed. I find what hasn’t changed is this phenomenon: I’ll be talking about New Music and a student says, “Oh, I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been listening to a lot of new music.” And I say, “Well, bring it in.” Sure enough, they bring in some sort of Alternative Rock, which is new in very small ways.

Increasingly, that’s not the case. Increasingly there is a movement they call Art Rock or other forms of Rock which seems to me is not a popular music. They’re really trying to find new musical expressions and they take a lot of their cue from composers like John Cage and other New Music composers. They’re very aware of that as well as world music. So I see that as a positive phenomenon within the world of quote-en-quote “Popular Music”...it’s not really, it’s something else. So I do see that.

The result when trying to reinvent the wheel exhausts itself.

Yeah. That happened in Jazz. Bebop was trying to expand the Swing Era and then the new forms of Free Jazz wanted to break the bonds of harmony which was so sophisticatedly put together in Bebop. So, there’s always this notion of expansion in Western Music at least.

Seems like Jazz has reversed on itself. It’s becoming more...

Classical. What I mean by classical is people are repeating other people’s solos of the past almost literally. I find that troubling. But Jazz really hasn’t gone somewhere, it’s just people don’t realize that there’s another form of Jazz and that is Free Improv. Yes, there’s no drummer, and there [are] no chord symbols anymore, but people have expanded the notion of improvisation which Jazz gave us. [It] gave us the idea of soloing and playing together in an improvised setting. So, I think it’s expanded, it’s just people haven’t realized, that’s Jazz. [What] the new Classical Jazz players are doing is just keeping alive a tradition. Which is what a lot of Western Classical music is also doing, is keeping alive a tradition. Nothing wrong with that at all. In fact, I’m kind of glad they’re doing it, but I think it’s really important for people to realize that Free Improv is Jazz. It’s the new Jazz.

Whether it be around Jazz themes or not.

Exactly! A lot of the free improv is influenced, again, by New Music composers who incorporated unusual sounds or incorporated forms of improvisation. I’ve experimented a great deal in that with my mobile forms and with my systems pieces. John Cage did. Stockhausen. Early Morton Feldman. Christian Wolf. Earl Brown. The names go on of people who have incorporated into their music improvisation of one sort or another. Later, that influenced what I’m calling New Jazz players, which some people call free improvers or free improvisation experts.

So do you consider yourself to be a New Jazz composer?

Very few people have referred to me as that, but that’s how I feel. You can look at the 135 pieces I’ve written and you can really see the influence of Jazz. Whether it’s in the rhythmic intricacy which has always been there, or incorporating the tastes of the musician who’s playing my piece...is part of the piece, that’s Jazz influenced. Or my systems pieces where I use improvisation as part of the system, the guided improvs.

Even in your notated pieces, it’s not strictly notated.

Yeah, it’s notated with verbal directions of how you can use those notated ideas in an improvisational setting that I set up with rules.

Speaking of your pieces, do you approach how you are going to write a piece with a global concept or does it start from a seed of an idea that you build on?

A little of both. I use three different kinds of thinking when I compose: fast thinking, slow thinking, and taste thinking. Fast thinking is multi-directional, non-verbal intuitive thinking. The slow thinking is what I’m doing now: logical, one word after the other kind of thinking. Taste thinking is the thinking of the senses. I use all three of those together all at once. Picture a rope with three strands that cross-talks very quickly between the strands. That’s how I compose, so when I have a small idea that comes from intuitive thinking, that immediately draws me into slow thinking. And then I check everything to see if it feels right: taste thinking. So it’s a continual revolving around those kinds of thinking in a very fast way. That’s how I work.

I always work at the piano because I want to work with the sounds themselves. Never work away from the piano. Never work away from the pitches, or the rhythms. First comes the pitches, then comes the rhythm. I listen to the pitches and the intervals, and they suggest what the rhythms should be. I try to not push the pitches around. I try to listen to them, to what they tell me to do next.

So that’s intuitive?

Yeah. I’m of the mind that every entity that we perceive is vibrating, and that’s true, scientifically true, and that it has something to tell us if we’re aware enough to perceive it through our senses. I feel like the pitches and the rhythms are alive and they are always telling us something and we just need to listen very carefully to what they have to say and notate that. So, in a way, I conceive composing as transcribing what the sounds tell us to do next.

So you would reject the use of something more formulaic or a historical approach?

I don’t use any pre-compositional techniques like serialism, or chord progressions, or plans, engineering plans, of how to make a piece. I work strictly intuitively, because the intuition allows there to be contradiction and it seems to me that life’s full of contradictions. Life is complicated, so I want my music to be equally complicated. I want it to reflect my experience as a living person, where pre-compositional techniques get a composer consistency. That’s what they’re for; so that there’s a consistent relationship between all of the moving parts. I like music which is inconsistent. So, although I love Shoenberg, I prefer Ives. I love Karlheinz Stockhausen’s music, but I prefer Morton Feldman’s.

What are your sources of inspiration? What compels you to say, “I have to sit down and write this?”

I get up every morning at 8:30, then from nine to eleven, I compose. And then, during early evening, I come back oftentimes and look at what I’ve done. I do that every day, seven days a week. It has become a habit. If I don’t compose, I feel awkward. I get a nervous stomach. So, composing, for me, is like the ultimate anti-depressant, anti-anxiety activity. I think it’s because when one composes, it’s like deep meditation. You’re going into yourself very, very honestly and with great conviction, so it must be like chanting “omm” for a couple of hours or other sort of meditative practices that are done around the world. So, I compose out of habit, out of a desperate habit. It’s almost like an addiction: I must compose. So there’s no inspiration other than: nine o’clock in the morning. That’s my inspiration. Nine A.M. is my inspiration.

I often joke that if I feel really, really inspired, I put the pencil down and go for a walk. Because a lot of composing is like baking bread. It’s just plain hard work, and it’s very difficult sometimes to hear what the pitches want you to do. But, again, it’s work that I must do. I can’t imagine myself not composing.

Do you consider your audience’s expectations when you write a piece?

What is the best kind of gift? Is it the gift that the receiver wants, or the gift that the giver needs? In my view the best kind of gift is the one that the giver needs, because it’s the most honest kind of gift possible. So the audience is nowhere to be found in my studio, because I love the audience. That’s why they’re not in my studio: so I can give them the most honest music possible. I think that if you really love the audience you keep them out of you awareness as you compose. I love when the audiences love my music. I get some standing ovations occasionally. It’s very gratifying. Sometimes people walk out. They don’t like it. Well, that’s, of course, their right. They don’t have to like what I do, but I’m convinced that the best gift I can give them is the music that I need...and that’s a true gift.

You spoke of your students and what they’re finding as “New Music”. With that experience and perhaps what you see around you on television or in the newspaper, how much does pop culture influence where you’re going with your music?

It doesn’t at all. I’m not even aware of it. I don’t have a television set. I listen just to radio. If I want to watch something I go to Blockbuster for entertainment and find some interesting movies. I’m not aware of pop culture anymore, so it’s not part of my world. I try to stay out of the pop taste industry altogether. I mean, I’m a vegan. I’ve composed what I eat. I try to compose my life as well as be a composer. I don’t accept my culture’s answers for everything. I try to ask questions of my culture, and if I come up with a different answer than my culture, then I go with my different answer.

“So what is it proper to eat,” I ask? My culture says, “S.A.D.: Standard American Diet.” It’s sad. I can tell you what I had for lunch. I had all fresh vegetables and fresh fruits...raw. So I don’t do what my culture tells me to do. I try to do what my conscience tells me to do and what my instinct as a composer tells me to do.

What trends do you notice in New Music today?

I see the pieces getting longer and longer. The bar was really set by Morton Feldman with his five hour string quartet. People don’t think a thing about sitting through a piece that’s an hour long or an hour and a half long. My vibraphone solo is in 34 movements, lasts for an hour and twenty minutes, played a great deal in Europe, particularly in Vienna. People, from what I’ve been told, are extremely attentive the entire time and don’t think anything of sitting through an hour and twenty minutes. ‘Course we’ve been doing that with movies. They clock in at two hours, two and a half hours, and we keep our attention up. So I think, more and more, people are interested in longer pieces, to follow how an idea will develop over a long period of time.

It’s interesting that it’s the opposite of what’s going on in mainstream culture.

Yeah, I agree. Everything is just boom, boom, boom, fast, fast, fast. Computer on, computer off. I agree, but I think all of us really long for a different sort of world.

I was at Smith Island a few days ago. Population: 300. When someone goes by in a car, they wave at you, and, if they see you three minutes later, they wave at you another time. You can leave your doors wide open and go away for an hour and just not even think about crime. It’s because people have enough space, they’re in a small community, and things really slow down. There is silence, real silence, where you can just hear your ears hearing, to real darkness so that when you walk out you can see the constellations. I think we need to slow down. It’s not good to be going this fast. It’s not good for our our health, our mental health or our physical health.

We need to have a music which reflects what’s healthy for a human being, not what’s easy for a human being.

Stuart Saunders Smith, An American Composer Part I

2008-06-01T13:00:00.011-04:00

Stuart Saunders Smith is an American composer, poet, and editor of literary works. His catalog of musical compositions includes many different approaches for the performer, ranging from guided improvisation with graphic scores to notated pieces, but each encompasses the continuing traditions in New American Jazz and New American Classical music.

Most of the pieces he has written since his first published works in 1970 are for one or two players, and rarely exceed the instrumentation possible in a chamber setting. The exceptions include performance systems works which are essentially a set of guidelines for improvisation that can be performed by any number of players. As a result, the majority of his works often have a very personal feel and performances have an intimate quality.

In addition to providing vehicles for improvisation for players, a lot of his work offers strictly notated music in the classical tradition. Pieces such as Closing for solo guitar and “as if time would heal by its passing” for solo marimba explore wide intervals and precisely notated rhythms that are very complex. Other pieces explore, through rhythm, the possibilities of counterpoint available in instruments of non-definite pitch. Blue Too from 1983 is a nine-plus minute piece for solo drum set. The Noble Snare from 1988 was written for solo snare drum.

Some pieces, such as The Authors, And Cold, and Many Women, include a spoken part for the instrumental performer. Others may ask the performer to sing pitches while playing an instrument, such as violin.

Stuart is also very active in free and guided improvisation. At the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, where he has been a professor of composition since 1975, he offers ensembles the opportunity to explore music created spontaneously beyond the confines of any preconceived notions or traditions such as tonality and form.

Stuart’s music is performed widely throughout the United States, Europe, and Japan. He is also in high demand among ensembles and performers that commission works from him. The University of Akron presented an entire concert of his works this past March celebrating his 60th birthday.

I met with Stuart at his home in Maryland to discuss his musical works, the compositional process and his experience as a composer in this time.

What are you currently working on?

I’m writing a piece called Husbands and Wives for two alto saxophones. I’ve been married as of yesterday 38 years, so it’s sort of a meditation on the nature of being married that long. One of the things that you never think about when you first get married is you were once separate, now you’re going to be together, but in the end you’re going to be separate again...unless you both go at the same time.

As you get older, as you are married longer, that notion of separation becomes more and more real and more and more poignant, so the piece tends to have a kind of tragic edge to it; because that realization is down the road. It’s a long time. Also, you begin to think about your own mortality when you turn sixty, for instance. That’s when I began to think about that in real terms. I mean, you’re not in mid life anymore. In twenty years, God willing, you’re eighty. You know at the age of sixty how fast time goes. It’s like that (snaps finger) just like a snap of a finger you were thirty and now you’re sixty.

The strange part of it is is that I don’t really feel any different than I did when I was thirty, or twenty-one for that matter. I think I’m a little wiser because I’ve lived longer and my pacing’s a little bit slower because I’ve lived longer, not because of any physical ailment, but, there’s that number looming: sixty years of age.

So, from experience you don’t feel the need to rush things.

Exactly.

Because you know what’s going to happen to an extent.

Yeah. Try to slow down time as much as you possibly can.

So you recreate this in your piece between the two saxophones.

Right. It starts off where there’s a saxophone solo with an accompanying music, kind of drone music with the other saxophone and there’s another saxophone solo, the other saxophonist. To symbolize, you start off kind of separately and you know each other a little bit. Then there’s the marriage part, which is the bulk of the piece. And then, at the end, there’s one saxophone solo with no accompaniment and then another saxophone solo with no accompaniment.

Now the interesting thing is, is all the saxophone solo’s music is identical as far as pitch material, but the rhythms are different. So, I wanted to portray that not that much has changed except, there’s one saxophone solo and then another, meaning that one person outlives the other...but they’re the same person.

So you do this through pitch material. Is there anything like shared themes that come together?

Yeah, there is. The next thing that happens after the opening saxophone solos is a unison-type passage.

...where they play together the same part...

Yeah. That symbolizes the marriage...the marriage ceremony itself. So, it’s a very programatic piece.

Are you having that performed soon?

That’s written for a recording that’s coming up of my saxophone music [that] Susan Fancher is doing and organizing. That will be coming out on Sylvia Smith’s label, 11 West Records. She records a lot of my music.

When will that be released?

The winter of 2008 is my guess.

You’ve been a professor now for thirty years.

Thirty three.

How does that affect you as a composer? Is there any thought process that you get from that experience that you wouldn’t otherwise?

I want to be really honest about that. There are many people at the University who are professors who write books. I am a composer who is a professor. I put my research and my composing first. I chose being a professor because it was a job where I was going to be teaching music...something I love very much...and it would give me enough free time to pursue my musical ambitions compositionally without much restraint.

I noticed early on, I was about fifteen...I had been doing club dates since I was thirteen, that there were these teachers, these kind of teachers, who had the summers off and didn’t have to teach a great deal. They were in fact expected to play music or compose music as part of their job, and I later learned these were called professors (laughter). And, they could compose or play anything they wanted, which I couldn’t do in the clubs. Even at the age of sixteen or so, I was very, very upset that I couldn’t play what I wanted to in the clubs. I had to mostly simplify what I was doing as a drummer. The more complicated I got, the more the club owner would come over and say, “What are you doing?!” I chaffed at that as I got older and older and my musical experiences led me to musics which were more complex like Indian music, Free Jazz, [and] New Classical music.

Beginner's Corner: How to tune a Guitar

2008-05-30T19:09:00.004-04:00

ELECTRONIC TUNERS

Of the many ways to arrange the pitches of the strings of the guitar, standard tuning is the most popular. From lowest to highest the pitches are: 6E, 5A, 4D, 3G, 2B, 1E.

The fastest and easiest way to tune the six-string guitar is to use an electronic tuner. New tuners start at $25. I use a Boss TU-12H that is available for under $100.

Begin by getting the tuner to indicate the correct pitch starting on the lowest string, 6E. If the tuner indicates a pitch that is low, such as D, you must tighten the string, and conversely, loosen it if it indicates F, G, etc. Because most tuners don’t indicate octaves, you must judge by the string’s tension if you are moving it in the right direction. After the correct pitch is achieved, fine tune with the meter or LED indicator. Usually, if it points to the right it is too sharp. If it points to the left it is too flat.. If the tuner indicates flat, raise the pitch. Lower it if it indicates sharp. Most tuners indicate that the pitch is in tune when the indicator is in the middle between sharp and flat or both sharp and flat indicator light at the same time. Continue this process for the rest of the strings, first matching the note name, then fine tuning with the meter or LED indicators.

RELATIVE TUNING

It is also valuable to be able to tune a guitar without an electric tuner using relative tuning. To tune a guitar using relative tuning, simply use the 5^th fret of the string to tune the next highest one, except between G and B where you use the 4^th fret of G to tune the 2^nd string, B. Begin by tuning the lowest string to E with another instrument, or if none is available, get it as close as you can by ear, pitch pipe, or other reference. Then you can play an A on that string at the 5th fret and use it to tune the A string. Once the A string is in tune, repeat this process to tune the 4^th string, D. Then, from the D string, tune the 3^rd string, G. Play the 4^th fret of the G string to tune the 2^nd string, B. After the B is in tune, use the 5^th fret of that string to tune the high E.

RELATIVE TUNING VARIATION

Some guitarists use a variant of this method by starting on the D string; first using the D to tune the G, G for B, and B for high E, then going back to the D string to tune the lower two strings using octaves. Sounding the D string at the 7^th fret generates an A that is one octave higher than the 5th string, open A. Though these are not the same frequency, you can use the higher octave to tune the lower because you can hear them sync together when they are tuned with each other to the same note name.

After the A string is tuned, repeat this process by playing the 7^th fret on the A to tune the low E string. Many guitar necks tend to bow when changing string tension, which affects the tuning of the entire instrument, so it is helpful go through the tuning process at least twice for whichever method you choose.

Concert Review: The Baltimore Chamber Orchestra

2008-05-21T19:06:00.002-04:00

Markand Thaker Conductor

May 21, 2008 Baltimore, MD

The BCO presented Haydn’s Symphony Number 104 and Igor Stravinsky’s A Soldier’s Tale.

Franz Joseph Haydn’s last symphony, number 104, was written and first performed in London in 1795. The four movement work has a richer texture than his earlier symphonies and also tends more towards the melodic side. This is especially apparent in the folk tune in the finale. (It is interesting to compare this to the jig-like theme in the Finale of Symphony 88 and the arpeggio laden melody in the first movement of Symphony 94.)

The Chamber Orchestra presented this piece with impeccable intonation with a relaxed, but enthusiastic manner. This is a vibrant work that is still refreshing to hear and was delivered in world class fashion.

Concluding the program, Markand Thaker conducted A Soldier’s Tale (L’Histoire du Soldat). The ensemble of violin, bass, percussion, clarinet, bassoon, cornet, and trombone shared the stage with a scaled back theatrical setting to present the story. The spoken parts were provided by Henry Fogel as the Narrator, Jonathan Palevsky as the Soldier, and Mac Steiner as the Devil.

The characters tell the story of a soldier who makes a deal with the devil for wealth and power and presents all the drama that unfolds from this choice. The music reflects Stravinsky’s flair for orchestration and use of odd meters, ostinatos, and incorporation of many genres into one that is also reflected in his other works. Because this version was scaled back from the original theatrical intent (which included ballet and spoken parts), the musical ensemble was the centerpiece of the music play and stole the show, though it would have regardless given the caliber of the performance. The ensemble precisely delivered the difficult passages and brought the piece to life with impeccable timing and awareness