Your Beauty

I have debated about blogging about “Your Beauty,” the art song I’m struggling with for John Tibbetts, but I think I will.

I’ve spent about ten days whacking around notes in my music notebook, which is unusual for me.  I usually open a Finale file and play around there. In fact, I have a Finale file already created called “tibbetts abortive attempts,” and it’s got some real dead ends in it.

But I thought I would force myself to play on paper/keyboard instead of the screen, in the hopes that it would broaden my abilities to hear the music in my head and get it into the Real World more easily.

Amazingly, it did not.  I got three pages of scribblings, none of which seemed inspired to me, and so this morning I thought I would input some of it into Finale to see what it sounded like if it weren’t being stumbled over by my fingers.  It wasn’t excellent.

So I just noodled about a bit, and lo! there was the opening.  Simple, yearning, with potential for more.  We’re going to push on from there, and I don’t know how much I’m going to go back to the notebook as a tool.  It doesn’t seem to work for me.

Here are the first 21 measures of “Your Beauty”: mp3

Remember, the last part of anything that I put up while I’m working on it sucks.

Christmas Carol update

If you thought that I would find a way to avoid plowing ahead and finishing the Finale, and hence Christmas Carol, you would be a winner.

I have successfully distracted myself from that accomplishment by updating the software that runs this blog (WordPress) and by forcing myself to start hammering out abortive attempts on another piece that I have promised to compose for over a year now.

This piece is a simple art song (ha!) for a friend, John Tibbetts.  John attended GHP in 2008 as a Social Studies major and for some reason decided that I would make a dandy mentor as he moved from high school to college.  So he latched on to me, and I’m fine with that.  It’s been a warm friendship through good times and bad for both of us.

John is a preternaturally gifted lyric baritone majoring in opera at Georgia State University, whose program oddly enough is a national standout.  He recently starred as John Proctor in Robert Ward’s The Crucible; both he and the production were topnotch.

Anyway, some time ago I offered to write him a song for his senior recital. Since his junior recital is tonight, it’s probably a good idea to get started on the piece, even moreso because his star is rising swiftly and if I don’t do it now, he will be too far above my skills to even look at performing it.  (He’s already acquainted with much more famous composers.)

I’m using a text that is an intense love song, a song of obsession and frustration, in which the singer confesses that he is so blinded by his lover’s beauty that he cannot be sure he’s ever really seeing or touching her herself.  It’s a text I think young Mr. Tibbetts will understand intimately.  So all I have to do is to match that passion in the music, right?  Right.  Expect this one to be a 6 on the LSCA.

Update: And I’m done with the Finale.  Ha, and also double Ha!

Christmas Carol update

I’m on the final piece of A Christmas Carol, the Finale.

Out of 160 measures, I’ve poured in about 60 of them.  This piece is proving a little more difficult than the rest, because my memory of it is based entirely on the fully orchestrated accompaniment I had programmed back in the 90s.  Now I’m having to reimagine it with a much skimpier ensemble.

At the moment, I’m just plugging notes back into the score just to get me from rehearsal letter to rehearsal letter, and then I’ll go back and make it sound as full as I can.  Fair warning to the synth keyboard player: hope you can divide that keyboard into two separate instruments.

The Lyles Scale of Compositional Agony

My good friend and mentor Dianne Mize asked in a recent letter—yes, I write letters; I’m kind of addicted to it—how hard it was to write the Cello Sonata No. 1, and I joked that on the Lyles Scale of Compositional Agony it was about a 7.  (That reminds me that I actually have to post that letter…)

Hm, I says to myself, Self, that would be an amusing blog post.

And so here it is, my task avoidance of the day.  (Sorry, John Tibbetts II, I really meant to work on your song today…)

[Note: in my letter, the ‘7’ was on a 10-point ascending scale.  On the Revised Lyles Scale of Compositional Agony, composing the Cello Sonata would have been been a 5.]

Lyles Scale of Compositional Agony

1NirvanaYou regain consciousness to find that the piece is done. Angels are singing and small woodland creatures frolic about you adoringly.
2BlissYour work flows from your mind exactly as you imagined it, and you have to work fast to capture all the ideas that keep coming. You don‘t even need that second cup of coffee.
3GroovingYour ideas come easily and allow themselves to be wrangled into the piece without too much of a struggle. Your lovely wife thinks it‘s pretty. Take a break—you‘ve earned it!
4HumanMeh. You‘ve got a piece to write, and it takes a while, but it finally all fits together and is good. You have that second cup of coffee and think about working on a new piece. Soon. Ish. Probably.
5SludgeThe work won‘t come at first, but after beating yourself with a sledgehammer, you finally get something on the page. Maybe it will look better after you ignore it for a few days. Perhaps a trip to the Amazon would help. Eventually you assemble what crap you‘ve come up with into something vaguely resembling a piece of music.
6HellIdeas will not come. You resort to inserting notes randomly onto the screen, hoping that one or two of them will stick. You consider rending your flesh for inspiration. What should have been a simple transition becomes a life-and-death struggle with Satan. You do your taxes just to avoid working on the piece.
7Harsh RealityNo ideas come, and what appears on your paper FELLATES HUGE MAMMALIAN GENITALIA. You are revealed to the world as a complete fraud, and on YouTube people use your past accomplishments to symbolize pathetic self-delusion. Small woodland creatures mock you. You abandon your life‘s work, and the universe breathes a sigh of relief.

You may make suggestions for additions and revisions in comments.

Horsefly Rag, part 2

OK, we’re going to pretend this piece is finished.  For all that I know, it is: it’s 1:45 long, and it has a great ending.  So what if the middle is crap?

I really do like the ending.  It’s subtly different/improved from the original version I posted Monday, including some happy accidents.  I love happy accidents.  They make it sound as if I’m wildly inventive when really it was a slip of the keyboard.

Yes, it could probably use another 20-30 seconds after the surprise in the middle.  For the time being, I need to follow Frank Gehry’s advice to his design teams: “Let’s let that sit there for awhile and annoy us.”

Horsefly Rag, as of 04/09/2017: score | mp3

Patting myself on my back

I just have to brag a little bit.  As I’ve finished each recent piece from Christmas Carol, I’ve announced it on Facebook with a line from the song.  In every instance, someone chimes in with one of the other lines from the song.

The last time this show was done was in 2002, and people still remember the lyrics to the songs.

I’m pretty pleased by that.

The return of the whinging composer, part 3,082

I’ve been successfully avoiding any actual composition since 2011, when I finished the Cello Sonata, and re-orchestrating Christmas Carol has proven to be an even better task avoidance strategy since it’s work that has to be done but doesn’t involve actually composing.  It’s a good life.

Leave it to a clown to mess it all up.

Mike Funt emailed me last week and demanded a piano piece to which he could make up some kind of clown crap because—are you ready for this?—he was inspired by this drawing at the Los Angeles Museum of Modern Art:

diary_of_a_fly

It’s by Moholy-Nagy.

For reference, he sent me a couple of YouTube videos of George Gershwin playing some of his earlier ragtime pieces.  Make it like that, he said.  But make it yours.  I want to use your music, he said, somehow forgetting that my music is pretty much unGershwinesque.

Clown.

So I thought to myself, well, it could be OK.  It’s not as if it’s a handshake commission to compose a postmodern opera of the Icarus myth, is it, because that would be terrifying, what with having to submit my fraudulent work to real audiences and critics and all.

Ha.

Composing is hard, y’all, and I don’t like it.  I’ve worked all weekend on this thing and it’s still only 45 seconds long.  I keep abandoning stupid crap, and it keeps trying to wander off into Five Easier Pieces territory rather than stick to its ragtime roots.  Part of the problem is trying to think—as I hammer out material—how Mike might use the music and therefore writing stuff that is useful.  But who knows what clowns find useful?  Other than seltzer bottles and red noses, I mean.

I’m already going to miss my self-imposed deadline of finishing it today—trust me, it’s not going to be finished today—and I still have “People Like Us” to re-orchestrate.  Plus the NYTimes crossword puzzle.  And I’m sure I should be out in the labyrinth in the downpour fixing something.  And there’s physical therapy at 1:00, and then I have a meeting at the Boys & Girls Club around the corner about becoming a volunteer there, and there’s no way it’s going to be finished today unless I stop blogging and hammer out another minute of music.  Perhaps I need to write the ending next and then just glue pieces together to get there.

Anyway, I’m about to take a deep breath and post what I’ve got.  I used to do this all the time with music, just revealing my foibles to the world as I hack and slash my way through the thick chaos of the universe, so I’m just going to do it now and let everyone marvel at how very unGershwinesque it is.

It stops abruptly.  Of course.

“Horsefly Rag,” as of 04/07/2014:  mp3

update, 12:10 pm

Ha, take that, you clown.  Here’s the finale, and I think—in order to satisfy my twisted desires—I’m going to make it longer.

“Horsefly Rag” finale, as of 04/07/2017 : mp3

Christmas Carol: Trivia

Let’s see what trivia I can dredge up about the songs in Christmas Carol‘s score.

Opening — Listen for that interval of the descending fourth throughout: “Christmas!”

Bah! Humbug! — A perfect example of my early predilection for oddball meters (5/4 in this instance) as well as for waltzes.  Lots of interior rhymes,  just like Sondheim.   Fun for the audience; not so much for Scrooge.

Past’s Arrival — The Ghost of Christmas Past’s theme is simply two tritones, starting on the G/C “Christmas” interval.  Some might think they hear the old Campbell’s soup theme in the “countryside” theme, but they would be imagining things.  I’ll tell you when I’ve stolen something.

Country Dance — Piece of cake to write, given my years of experience with the University of Georgia Period Dance Group.  But getting Finale 2014 to get the repeats right was an ordeal.

A Reason for Laughter — The NCTC Gala in 2002 kicked off my last season as artistic director, and to prepare the audience for my swan song, Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, we staged the finale of Act II.  The audience was surprised and delighted that they a) understood it; and b) thought it was funny.  But no one thought it was as funny as Caroline Carr and Stan Gentry, who were watching from the wings and suddenly recognized Figaro’s entrance as the opening of this song.  Yes, I had stolen the phrase, figuring no one in Newnan would ever really recognize it.  Oops.  Hoist on my own petard.

That You — It’s like this.  I’d been reading The Unanswered Question, by Leonard Bernstein, and I was struck by a comment he made about Don José’s “Flower Aria” in Bizet’s Carmen: no one phrase really repeats; the song just kind of grows.  So I set out to do something similar.  The result is a song that demands a two-octave range from a soprano, and not the right two octaves.   It can’t keep to the same meter for more than three measures, and the accompaniment always sounded clumsy.  On the plus side, it’s pretty.

Christmas Present Street Scene — This was originally a church choir piece called Gloria in excelsis, never performed, and so I cannibalized it, adding the Christmas Waltz (I am a dab hand with a waltz) and the Chorale for the churchgoers.

The Cratchits’ Prayer — Another cannibalization: this one from Neil Simon’s The Good Doctor, which we had done the year before maybe.  There’s a scene in which two lonely types sit on a park bench and sing “Too Late for Happiness.”  I don’t know whether there was official music to the song, but I just wrote one for us.  Another quirky meter (7/4) cum waltz.  Also: this song was nicknamed the “Gag a Maggot Song” for its shameless bathos.  Also also: because of this song and the later scene at Tiny Tim’s death, anyone playing Bob Cratchit was automatically nominated for the now-defunct NCTC 4-H Award, given to that actor who milked a scene beyond the call of duty.

Fred’s Waltz — Yet another cannibalization: when I was in high school, I wrote an overture to The Madwoman of Chaillot, never performed.  This waltz was one of the tunes.

20 Questions — The opening phrase of this one was inspired—if that’s the phrase my lawyers prefer—by the opening phrase of an Australian composer’s symphony.  Also, kudos to Marc Honea, who as a yout’ took the assignment of writing lyrics for this seriously enough to write a neat little scene.

Ignorance and Want — One of the best things I’ve ever written, this grim mazurka pounds out Dickens’ message in perfect 3/4 time.  The text is lifted directly from the novel.

People Like Us — I thought it would be fun to write a little fugue-like piece where each character enters one after the other and keeps adding to the list of material goods they steal from the dead.  The message underscored Dickens’s, that you can’t take it with you.

Graveyard — A setting of the medieval Dies irae, of course.

Finale — I will state outright that I think this is the best ending to any version of Christmas Carol anywhere.  It starts with Scrooge “waking” in his bedchamber, whirls us through his delirious realization that he’s alive, and then we’re off to the races.  The ending of the novella is very quick, but most adaptations get bogged down in fleshing out each part of the ending in detail.  Here we just romp through the turkey, the Philanthropic Gentlemen, the Cratchits, Fred’s house, and Bob Cratchit’s raise, all to the giddy scherzo of “Hey, boy, what day is today?”, woven throughout with the Christmas Waltz, and ending with the reprise of “A Reason for Laughter.”  Done, and done—thunderous applause.

The Return of A Christmas Carol

In 1980, the members of the Newnan Community Theatre Company prevailed upon me to set Charles Dickens’ classic A Christmas Carol to music. Their thinking was that just as every ballet company in the world did The Nutcracker every holiday season, most theatre companies did Christmas Carol, and with similar financial objectives.  They were not wrong.

I set about cannibalizing older pieces and writing new ones, and in a couple of months I had it all pieced together.  It was, as expected, a huge hit, and we did it every year for a number of years.  In fact, after the Newnan City Council effectively shut us out of the Municipal Auditorium and we had no home, it was the cancellation of Christmas Carol in 1983 that spurred the movement that got us the old Manget-Brannon building as a permanent facility.

Eventually we tired of the same piece every year (although audiences never seemed to), and we began alternating with other holiday offerings.  It was last presented in 2001; the last time I directed it was 1992.

When Newnan Theatre Company (same group as NCTC, just a different name) expressed an interest in reviving a couple of years ago, I discovered that I had none of the sequencer files on my computer, nor any of the MIDI files.  It was too late in the year (plus it was my first year  as GHP director, I think) for me to reconstruct the whole thing.  When the topic came up again recently, I was ready, and so I am in the middle of re-orchestrating all 18 pieces, plus reinventing the overture, which was never written down on paper at all.

When I began seriously setting about the task, I was shocked to find how close I had come to losing the whole show: I had only the original, handwritten piano score plus a few vocal pages to go by, and these were scattered across several notebooks and files.  I had nothing resembling the full orchestration that I had developed in the sequencer.  It was all going to be from scratch.

That’s OK.  I want to start over with a live ensemble, and so I’ve been working with a piano, a synthesizer keyboard, a flute, a clarinet, a cello, a glockenspiel, and chimes.  That should be enough.

I’m now two months into the project and am halfway finished, although the “Finale” is a monster by itself.  So far, so good, although Belle’s song, “That You,” set me back two weeks because I had to seriously rethink the harmonization and accompaniment.  The melody was always fine, but everything else was clunky.  It’s better now, but not without a lot of struggle on my part.

Part of the struggle has been dealing with Finale 2014’s idiosyncrasies, including a recent upgrade that was supposed to fix a serious problem and instead reinstated it.  (I ended up downgrading to the first version of Finale 2014, something I’ve never had to do before.) And then the USB extension cable connecting my keyboard to the computer went bad without warning, etc., etc.

I’ve also procrastinated by updating nearly every other piece of music I’ve ever written from whatever version of Finale it was originally created in (as early as 2003 in some cases!) to 2014.  Worth it, but hardly productive.  (Check out William Blake’s Inn in its new settings.)

So today I hammered out “That You” and should be rolling straight through the rest of the show.  If I keep at it, I should be done by the end of April.

Check it out over to the left under My Music.

Symphony No. 1 in G major

I know—two posts in one day!

I’ve been cleaning up both my study and my hard drive, rearranging both to be more efficient.  One thing I’m doing on the hard drive is to update all my old music files into the new Finale so that nothing gets left behind. Some pretty old stuff in there, too!

One of those items was the Symphony No. 1 in G major.  I was asked to write it by the strings teacher at GHP in 2007 to be performed the following summer.  (I won’t name him here since I don’t want to embarrass him, since he should already be embarrassed about never playing the Cello Sonata Stephen Czarkowski!!)  When he decided to not to return to GHP for the next summer, I abandoned the work.  I was past the point of putting that much work into something that would never be performed.

Now that I’m retired, however, things are different.  Who cares if it’s never performed?  If it’s worth finishing, then it will give me something to do.

And I think it’s worth finishing.

Here’s the third movement, Allegro gracioso, which I had finished the day before I abandoned the work.  It’s rather nice.

And then there was the fourth movement. Problematic, resistant to completion or even to persuasion, it was a problem child.

But my, there’s some lovely stuff in there. I will post it here, but you have to realize that it’s a pastiche, just stuff I was throwing at the wall to see what stuck.  You will hear passages with just a piano; those are sketches for what might come next or bridge a gap.  You will hear gaps: my method was to skip a few measures and plop some new section in and worry about getting from point A to point B later.  There is no ending.  And Finale is its usual less-than-subtle self in translating an old file to the new format. But there is some nice stuff going on.

IV. Lento; allegro mp3