Humbug. (Day 125/365)

I did not get the last six measures of Milky Way done. I did, however, get the Deer and Lava Flow™ display put up in the front yard:

Deer and Lava Flow display

But I do have a liberal rant, to wit:

The Times has an article about a memorial put up in northern California Here’s a photo.

Needless to say, people have gone nuts. One lady, whose son is at West Point and will be heading to Iraq after graduating next May, does not consider it a memorial. “The hillside is painful,” she said.

Another man called the display “a travesty” and said the people who put it up were “despicable and morally bankrupt.”

Why is it that any time anyone brings our Iraq casualties to our attention by individualizing them, the pro-war nutjobs go berserk? You would think that they would be pleased that everyone was honoring our dead, or at least they might pretend that’s what the memorializers were doing even if they weren’t.

But that’s not what happens. Every time someone reads out all the names of the dead or puts up thousands of crosses or stones or whatever, the überpatriots have a hissy. I just don’t get it. I mean, my elementary school has a big display in the front hall, with the names of all the soldiers from Coweta County who died in WWI, WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. Is that a “travesty”? Are we “despicable and morally bankrupt”? What if we added the names of soldiers from the first Gulf War? Or from this one?

What is the difference? I’m going out on a limb here and suggest that the pro-war nutjobs understand, even if they don’t admit it even to themselves, that our current Iraqi situation is itself “despicable and morally bankrupt,” and that calling attention to the deaths of the brave men and women who have given their lives in this debacle underlines that fact in ways that not even pro-war nutjobs can avoid. And they don’t like it. They like their country right or wrong, their wars just, and their dialectics black and white.

Thus they see every attempt to call attention to the nearly 3,000 troops who have died as an attempt to undermine the war effort, to stab their patriotism in the back and to paint the United States as a villainous imperial power. Somehow they never think that perhaps it was their patriotic duty to oppose this war in the first place, and if not in the first place, certainly by now. It should now be their patriotic duty to support our troops by making sure no more die in George W. Bush’s blunder, the worst foreign policy decision by any American President, ever. And when other people point that out to them, and to the rest of the public, they scream bloody murder. Because they understand that even if the memorial is absolutely sincere, it’s an intolerable intrusion of reality into their pony-based patriotism, and that’s what the rest of the world will see as well.

Nearly there (Day 123/365)

Only six blank measures to go in Milky Way!

I’ve smoothed out the rat’s issues and moved into and through the final stanza, and even into the coda, which is just a repeat of mm. 68-69. Since the next two measures are just a repeat of those measures, transposed up a sixth, I should be able to finish this piece on Sunday morning.

I’ve developed this sense of completion, of being finished in some way, which is stupid, since although Milky Way is the last piece I composed (always excepting the Epilogue), I still have Marmalade Man, Make Way, and Tale of the Tailor to orchestrate. I have a long way to go before I sleep!

Still, I don’t expect any of them to have the issues that Milky Way has presented. They are pretty straightforward, without the shifting moods of this piece. They also don’t present issues of delicacy, transparency, grandeur, profundity, etc., that a walk across the night sky might.

By the way, anyone who is interested in hearing A Visit to William Blake’s Inn played through in its entirety is invited to come to the Newnan School of Dance on Wednesday, January 10, at 7:00. For full details, see the Lacuna Group.

Some interesting headway (Day 122/365)

Tonight was the Masterworks concert, so that was going to count as my creativity for the day, and it was a very good concert, but then something unexpected happened.

After the concert, Ginny was supposed to meet up with her book club buddies for coffee, but she had read the invitation wrong, so we came home and got comfortable. Soon, though, Bette Hickman showed up looking for Ginny, and we all went out for a late supper. While Ginny changed back into clothes, I dragged Bette upstairs to hear Milky Way and to let her know we were going to move on this starting in January.

She liked the music, and over supper we talked about getting all the necessary ducks in a row. So the piece of the puzzle over which I had no control, i.e., the machinery necessary to procure space/funding/backing, is in place.

All in all, a very creative evening.

Forging ahead (Day 121/365)

early morning: Many days when I report that I’ve done “nothing,” I’ve actually done quite a bit of work in my head, going over sections of William Blake that need work, listening to the CD in the car and making decisions about instrumentation or effects or stuff (that’s a technical term.)

Thus it was this morning that as I was finishing my toilette I decided that maybe the section in question in Milky Way needed some other sound completely. I think I’m going to yank the strings entirely. I can give the cello line to the bassoons and drop the horns into the bass clef to cover what the violas were handling. I keep forgetting that the horns have this ungodly range. In fact, I keep wondering whether I need trombones at all, just add another two horns and keep them in the bass clef.

At any rate, I’ll see if I can get this done tonight and report back.

late evening: Actually, I think that was it. I didn’t use the horns like I thought I would, but the woodwind choir fits the bill quite nicely. The strings join back in on the “gathered by fools in heaven” line, and it moves smoothly on.

So now I need to orchestrate the little descending star patterns leading into the final repeat of the “intro” theme, and then hopefully I know what I’m doing from there to the end.

Problems with Milky Way (Day 120/365)

I’m having real problems with mm. 76-80 of Milky Way, the rat’s sullen complaint and prediction, “What’s gathered by fools in heaven will never endure.”

I want it to sound low and sullen so that the final quatrain sounds elated, but it just sounds gawky and unpleasant. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that my orchestration style in this piece can only be described as “pointillistic” or “mosaic-like,” i.e., instruments enter willy-nilly to provide color and then just as suddenly drop out again. But this passage just sounds clumsy.

I thought about taking the low strings and making them pizzicato, but I’m not sure that cellos can actually pluck that kind of sequence, quickly arpeggiated sixteenth notes. Perhaps they could divide them up?

Part of the problem also is that I’ve scored it in patches, so that there’s truly not a smooth transition from one measure to the next, and whole voices just disappear.

It’s all a matter of balance, I suppose, and finding the will to tinker with it. I’m so close to the end!!

A little progress, and a connection (Day 117/365)

I got back to work on Milky Way today, hacking my way through the rat’s sullen complaining. If I can adhere to some kind of schedule, I should be through with this piece by next weekend. Then it’s just Make Way and Tale of the Tailor for orchestration. (Marmalade Man was conceived in practically full orchestration already. Piece of cake.)

I have not posted any updated mp3s for that.

Tonight, I went to Amazon to find a book of poetry of Nancy Willard’s called In a Salt Marsh, a poem from which was sent by Knopf Poetry as part of its April Poetry Month emails this past spring. While I was there, I looked at some of her other books, and there was one from last year of which I had been unaware. It’s called Sweep Dreams, and it’s illustrated by Mary GrandPré.

First of all, of course, Mary GrandPré is the illustrator of the American editions of Harry Potter, but more than that, she is the sister of Tom GrandPré, aka Captain Shubian himself. Can we all say Six Degrees?