Borrowed Music

Well, if you're going to borrow a musical idea, who better to do it from than yourself! I like to think that I'm in good company: Mozart, Bach, Handel--LOTS of Handel--and scores (pun intended) of other composers. Mark, who responded to my previous post, got me thinking along those lines--see, he suggested I post more pdfs on my website (address on sidebar); I thought of pdfs I had made recently and came upon a work based on a work based on a work--let's see if I can explain.

At Lafayette- Orinda Presbyterian Church I had the opportunity to write for a flautist almost every month for a year or so (usually because, although she had been hired, no one had planned what she would play). One month I wrote a set of variations on Balm in Gilead. You'll find a short description of the piece on my website, along with a link to the pdf of the full piece. The first excerpt I've posted here is near the end of the second variation. One of the things I like about this variation is its extremely simple bass line (just two notes, which keep repeating, until--but you'll have to visit my website for the rest of the story...) with a simple succession of chords in the right hand and a somewhat stream-of-consciousness meditation on the theme in the flute part. It sounds like this.

In the flute and piano variations, the variation that the first excerpt came from represented a period of rest; although it wasn't long, it had a timeless quality about it, in the sense that it could keep going forever (I think the computer plays it faster than I would--I know; I programmed the tempo; the performer me thinks that the composer me pushes the tempo too much here--talk about being of two minds!). Where was I?

The second excerpt, a transcription of the previous variation, but now for mezzo-soprano, cello and piano, came about when I was setting some wonderful poems by my Aunt Elizabeth. I needed a time of relaxation after a particularly intense text, and happened upon my flute variation. So Gilead came into existence: a wordless song, almost a lullaby, that offers a moment of quiet and healing after the strong emotions of the previous movement. Of the five-movement set of songs (Gilead is number 4), Gilead is the only one to have been performed to date.It sounds like this. The piano part is unchanged; the soprano does the flute part, and the cello either doubles the voice or adds a countermelody.

When my cousin Michael went to Norway for the year, he took another of my pieces, a vocal duet, with him and started teaching it to a choir he is conducting for the year. He wanted me to make some minor adaptations to fit the choir, so I went farther than he asked (not an unusal happenstance) and not only modified that piece, but sent him several other works, including a choral version of Gilead (my third excerpt). If you compare the three excerpts, you'll notice that each adds a little more complexity, although the piano part remains constant. Much of the choral version still has the two-voice feel of its predecessor version, although there are moments, like right at the end of the excerpt, when voices become more independent. There is still no text, so it is up to the director to find a neutral syllable that works with the choir.This last excerpt sounds like this.

What I found so satisfying is that the connections to previous work actually strengthened the compositional process. It gave me an anchor, something to build from or build toward. I confess that I've done this a couple of other times, with similarly successful results--of course, I'm measuring success to some extent personally. Ultimate success for me comes from my audience, and how much they enjoy the music...and how much my performers (I'm often one of them) enjoy their musical experience.

After all, it's not just music to my ears...

Andante Grazioso

While things have quieted a little from my last post, I'm really enjoying preparing for the upcoming WomenSing concert. There's nothing like being able to collaborate with an ensemble that's on top of its game, with an outstanding conductor and piano accompanist. What I'm most enjoying is that the music is challenging enough that I really need to practice every day. I know--I should practice every day anyway; I need a goal or deadline to motivate me--and I am real motivated right now!

Between preparing the organ part of my Christmas Toccata, written for the concert, and becoming more familiar with the various choral accompaniments, including Kirke Mechem's delightful Seven Joys of Christmas (four movements of which I'm transcribing from piano to organ), I have no trouble filling a substantial practice session each day. It's gratifying to see that I'm making some progress, as I retain at leasts some benefit from my previous day's workout.

A challenge that is common for organists is that I don't get much actual rehearsal time on the instruments I'll be playing in concert. So one tries to simulate the sound and the physical setup of the concert locations so as to make the best use of the concert hall rehearsal time. The easiest part is learning the notes; the hardest thing is becoming familiar with a strange console.

And in the midst of all this, focusing on my church position with various upcoming Christmas season activities, as well as--just about as regularly as I breathe--working on a new composition.

There's no shortage of music to my ears...

Allegro Molto

Things have been nicely busy, both musically and personally, over the last several weeks. I've written at least three pieces of music, performed in three concerts, am getting ready for another, and am about to get started on a new composition for my cousin Michael. Beyond that my church position has kept me involved, as I renew acquaintance with familiar organ works and try to regularly add new pieces to my repertoire, and as I work with two musical ensembles that present music in worship each week (and let's not forget preparations for Christmas, which is just around the corner!).

First things first: a musician's gotta have some fun, although not everyone would link "golf" and "fun" in the same sentence! I'm playing at Harding Park Golf Course in San Francisco in the morning. It's a fairly challenging municipal course in a picturesque area near the Pacific coast. Recent activities mentioned in the previous paragraph include:

• Organist in Faure Requiem performed by U.C. Berkeley University Chorus
  
• Performer in San Francisco AGO (American Guild of Organists) chapter concert with my And they were filled with the Holy Spirit and Mckee Variations
  
• Organ/piano accompanist of WomenSing in an interfaith concert in Walnut Creek CA
  
• New compositions include an organ setting of Jesus Loves Me and two works for organ/piano duo: variations on Noel Nouvelet and Christmas Toccata (the latter to be performed on an upcoming concert of WomenSing on December 4 and 7 (I'm providing organ accompaniment on several works as well)
  

None of that is really sufficient excuse for ignoring my blog, so I'll try to do better for the rest of the year. I want to look at the pieces I wrote, and offer some comments on writing for organ and piano, as well as the general matter of transcription (my Noel Nouvelet variations were originally written for flute and piano).
I'll have more commentary soon. Be assured that it's certainly been music to my ears...

tempo rubato all over again

I blinked and October disappeared! We took a week or so with my Dad in his condo in Hawaii (I did get some golf in among the shopping trips for new bedding and various small repairs). It was a good change of pace. But I didn't write any music, which is almost like saying I decided not to breathe for a while. But music has kept me quite busy, with two active groups at church: between rehearsals, Sunday mornings, putting together practice CDs and leadsheets, and planning for the rest of the year, life was--musically speaking--pleasantly full.

But it's interesting how the calendar can fill up even more when you're not looking...

I played a couple of weddings that I'd had on my calendar for a while; then there was that extra memorial service, a couple of extra meetings, and a couple of upcoming organist gigs with an outstanding women's chorus (WomenSing). And a portion of a concert Monday November 7 sponsored by the San Franciscfo AGO chapter. All of a sudden preparation and practice time start crowding out important things like vegging out, or playing a little golf, or a nice dinner with my spouse (I think we'll next see each other at the dinner table in five days or so).

Am I complaining or bragging? I'm not sure. It's nice to be busy, or rather to have busies that others value. I probably didn't need to say yes this afternoon when I was asked to be a last-minute fill-in for an ailing organist for a performance of Faure's Requiem on the U.C. Berkeley campus this weekend, but I like the piece, it's my alma mater, and it doesn't hurt to improve the bottom line (see how I feel about that in a week or so after this yellow dog Democrat provides cocktail music at a Republican Women's gathering!) (No, I won't play Can't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow--Bill Clinton's theme song, for those of you who don't remember or live on the other side of the pond--but it's tempting!)

All this as a rather lengthy excuse for why time slipped away from me again (thus the title of this post). And yet, in the middle of all that, I found a couple of hours this morning to write a violin and piano piece for Sunday morning--I'll know in another day if the violinist is intrigued enough/has sufficient practice time to work on it this week. And I may soon be working on a compositional project for my cousin Michael. More about these projects and one other soon--

because it's all music to my ears...