About the Composer

When in doubt, haul out the juvenilia…

In the course of sorting and packing for a move (more on that another time), I’ve come across a recording of my first-ever public performance. Four Sidestreets (1986) for flute and piano was the result of a set of freshman-year composition assignments.

The movements are short and undeveloped, the longest being about a minute and a half. The titles are taken from the street grid in the Northwest Washington, D.C. neighborhoods where I’d spent my high school years. I remember making the point in the program notes that there was no programmatic connection between the titles and the streets themselves. (I also remember that I was so obnoxious as to write my program notes in the future tense. Freshman composition majors will be freshman composition majors.)

And so I take you now to a mildewy recital hall at 313 South Broad Street in Philadelphia. It is April, 1986…

I. Fessenden Street

The assignment here was to write an “air” for flute and piano.  I remember being oh so chuffed with myself for coming up with the 13/8 rhythm in the accompaniment pattern, but this piece predates my fascination with Bulgarian folk music by about 12 years.

II. Jenifer Street

Here the assignment was to write a piece that is “through composed”, in other words without any particular formal plan (no problem for me in those days).  I came up with this basic little gymnopédie.  Here we see that I had absolutely no clue how to end a piece.

III. Macomb Street

I’m rather proud of this one.  It’s probably the most well crafted of the four, and it reveals my inner Bernstein.  I ended up cannibalizing this piece a year later for a ballet score written for a Philadelphia Area Repertory Theater production of Miss Julie, adapted for a small chamber ensemble.

IV. Van Ness Street

In the final movement I made a slight attempt to do something “different”, resulting in a not particularly successful work.  I don’t know; what do you think?

I emerge from my summer blogging hiatus for long enough to spread the word that my friend Mark Adamo has finally launched his web site. Just like its owner, the site is informative, entertaining and well designed.

With this site, Mark joins the world of Composers Who Blog, and there are already a number of intresting posts about the Israel première of Little Women and many other topics. I’ve known Mark for almost 25 years, and if anyone ought to be blogging, it is he. Mark is well known as a composer, particularly of opera, but he is also a wonderful writer (with a wicked sense of humor, by the way). I’m looking forward to his writings on opera and theater.

Also of interest is a trove of information on the operas Little Women and Lysistrata as well as his gleaming Harp Concerto and several choral works.

Congratulations, and welcome, Mark!

Stimulating, exhausting, fun, exhausting, interesting, exhausting. Useful? Maybe. (Did I mention exhausting?)

I’m in the middle of the National Performing Arts Convention in Denver, along with thousands of others from every imaginable performing arts discipline.

Here are some highlights in stream-of-consciousness order.

Music in a Meeting
At the orientation session for composers, jointly run by folks from American Music Center, Meet the Composer and American Composers’ Forum, advice was issued on how to approach networking and how to make the most of the various events. But at the end there was a lovely impromptu performance by Indian artist Nirmala Rajasekar, who, perhaps sensing a lack of music in the room, volunteered to give us an impromptu performance. She asked the 100-or-so of us to sing a drone on F#, and sang a ravenously beautiful piece of music in the Carnatic style of South India.

Serendipity
Personally, I find the array of meetings and events here a little overwhelming, and I’m sure there’s a lot that I’ve missed, but the most fun and useful thing is running into old acquaintances and people I’ve only met via email and blogging. And then there are the potential professional contacts made in unexpected places like, say, the ticket line for Nixon in China.

Caucusing on a Massive Scale
A major component of NPAC is the “21st-Century Town Hall Meeting®” for the performing arts. I’m way too tired to describe it much here, but basically over several daily caucus sessions, we are developing an agenda for the performing arts community. It’s a fascinating process; please read more about it here. I can’t say I buy in 100% to the notion of setting an agenda, but it’s interesting, and the conversation at the table-level has been stimulating. Plus, owing to the structured-but-random way in which table assignments happen, there’s more of that serendipity around meeting people. Here’s a very poor photograph of what this looks like:

Performances
Tuesday night: Nixon in China. I wandered over on a whim to see if there were tickets, and I’m really glad I did. I’ve known this work intimately for 20 years, but only from the CD, so I’m glad to finally have the whole picture now. I still have problems with the libretto, but I admit that it “works” better than I’ve thought in recent years. I also admit that I love this infectious music as much as ever. The orchestra, led by Marin Alsop was phenomenal, and soprano Tracy Dahl stole the show as Madame Mao.

Wednesday night: The Colorado Symphony, performing Bernstein, Corigliano and Georgian composer Giya Kancheli. After Bernstein’s Candide Overture and Chichester Psalms, it was Corigliano’s Piano Concerto. To my surprise and delight, the soloist was my student in a musicianship class about eight years ago. Pianist Natasha Paremski got a well-deserved standing ovation for her performance of this incredibly difficult piece. Kancheli’s Styx, for chorus and orchestra was beautiful at times, but overall rather frustrating. There was some reference to traditional Georgian music, a fascination of mine, recently blogged about by Roger Bourland and by me a while back.

Denver
Water… must…. have…. water… oxygen….. need….. oxygen. I read warnings about dealing with the altitude here, and they’re true. I’ve been constantly dehydrated, tired and basically unwell the whole time, but other than that…

I’ve only seen this tiny corner, but Denver seems like a people-friendly, livable city. Kudos for the free hybrid bus up and down the 16th-street Mall (yes, that’s right: free) and the light rail network. Kudos for a terrific performing arts center as well.

One more day for me. We’ll see if there’s time for another update at some point.

My congratulations to San Francisco composer colleague Erling Wold on the premiere of his new opera Mordake. This is not a review, and so I’ll stop short of providing a lot of detail.

Mordake is a very beautiful work, both musically and visually, performed most courageously by the amazing John Duykers. It’s very difficult to describe, so I’ll just tersely say that it’s a one-man show about a guy with two faces.

The visual element is a brilliant, dynamic video background, similar to the one used for Berkeley Opera’s Bluebeard’s Castle, described earlier. It is full of surprises but any scent of gimmicky is trumped by Duykers’ performance, which never loses focus. Erling’s music has a harmonic sense that is personal and unique without sacrificing beauty or transparency. The synthesizer-based score is full of timbral surprises.

Anyone in the Bay Area with the slightest interest in music theater should try to see this. Here are details on how to do that.

As you may or may not already know, the National Performing Arts Convention takes place next month in Denver. It is a major event for anyone professionally involved in music, theater or dance. As someone with an interest in opera, theater, orchestral and choral music, I am looking forward to attending this for the first time. I’ll probably be spending most of my time in the Opera America sphere.

So, I’m curious: who out there is also going as an individual? Composers, performers, directors, etc? I’d love to see some comments here about what your goals are and how you plan to pursue them. If you’ve been to these conferences in the past, how effective or useful was it?

I hope comments here can be of benefit to other readers, but if you prefer to keep it private, by all means write to me directly.

By the way, I think registration is still open. Here’s a partial list of service organizations that comprise this event.

• American Composers Forum
• American Music Center
• Association of Performing Arts Presenters
• Chamber Music America
• Chorus America
• Conductors Guild
• Dance/USA
• Early Music America
• International Society for the Performing Arts
• League of American Orchestras
• Meet The Composer
• North American Performing Arts Managers and Agents
• OPERA America
• Theatre Communications Group

This evening I had the thoroughly enjoyable experience of sitting on a panel of judges for a competition at the San Francisco Conservatory. These opportunities to judge come up from time to time, and I’m always glad to do it, not just to help the parties involved, but because it forces me to really listen and to think critically, knowing there’s a lot at stake for the person on the other end. It’s definitely not easy!

In this case, the participants were student composers who had written short works for the Conservatory Chorus, some of whom had never written for voices before. We were given their scores about a week ago, along with a CD of mostly MIDI, but some live performances of the works, and this evening the chorus performed them for an audience.

Sharing the responsibility with me in this little mini-Iowa Caucus were two conductors, both very accomplished and far more knowledgeable about choral music than I. It was interesting that the winning piece was so off-the-charts good that the three of us agreed on it hands-down, and there was very little discussion needed. My congratulations to student composer Ilya Demutsky for his a cappella setting of the Lorca poem “Dance”, which was well thought-out, well written for voices and also just plain entertaining.

Figuring out second and third place was much more tricky. Just about all of the pieces were extremely well crafted and well considered for voices. (Kudos to Professor David Conte for making sure these composers know what they’re doing in that regard.) So we had to look for other elements as a basis for ruling pieces out. (It’s more typically the other way round: the composer has great ideas, but not a clue how to execute them.) Many of these well written pieces were too wrapped up in the craft and lacked emotional content; some were weak in their structural conception; some mishandled the text, and a few chose texts that were inappropriate for musical setting.

Little by little, we were able to winnow it down to the requisite 1st, 2nd and 3rd place winners, plus some honorable mentions. I hope all of the composers involved got something out of it, in any case. It’s an invaluable exercise, and these composers are very lucky for the opportunity.

P.S. - What Are My Criteria?
We were given almost no guidelines for adjudication. My colleagues were both conductors, and so I thought I’d focus less on the practicalities of the choral writing and, instead, on the more composerly concerns.

• Variety (variety of texture, tempo, key, etc.). I don’t prefer four pages of quarter-note music.
• Structure. Is the composer feeling his/her way around, or is the piece built on a sound framework?
• Originality. I normally don’t place very high importance on originality, but when you’re looking at 16 pieces, you like a few surprises. Among the pieces that were gimmicky, some pulled it off well and others had less to show for themselves beneath the gimmicks.
• Sensitivity to Text. Does the composer seem to know what he/she is singing about? More importantly, does he or she care? Is the text setting natural to the language, or are weak syllables on strong beats. (I hate that!!)
• Aesthetics. Quite simply: does it sound good?
• Possibly the most important: Does the piece seem to achieve the composer’s goals, even if it’s not particularly my cup of tea?

In the course of researching (read: obsessing over) Bartók’s one-act opera Bluebeard’s Castle, I came across a Hungarian film adaptation of the piece on YouTube. It’s annoyingly divided into fourteen segments, but anyone familiar with the piece or interested should take a look.

Here’s the segment containing my favorite part, known to people familiar with the piece as “The Seventh Door”. It’s basically the denouement, where we find out what Bluebeard’s been trying to prevent Judit from discovering. Below is the corresponding excerpt from my own translation of the libretto, mentioned in the previous post.

		BLUEBEARD
See them.
There are all of my late wives.
See my former wives.
See whom I loved.

		JUDIT
They’re alive.  They’re alive in here!

	(The three former wives enter through the seventh door,
	glorious and laden with crowns and jewels. One after
	the other, their faces pale, they proudly take their
	places opposite Bluebeard, who dips to his knees.)

		BLUEBEARD
	(With his arms outstretched as if he were dreaming.)
They’re beautiful. Beautiful.
Beautiful flowers.
They always were, and they still live.
It was they who collected my many treasures.
It was they who tended my garden.
It was they who made my empire grow.
All of it belongs to them.
All of it. All of it.

		JUDIT
	(Standing among the former wives as the fourth,
	doubled over and afraid.)
How beautiful they are. How magnificent.
I am bedraggled and worn.

		BLUEBEARD
	(Stands. Whispering.)
The first one I found at dawn,
In the beautiful, red-smelling dawn.
Every dawn belongs to her now.
Hers is the fine, red robe.
Hers is the silver crown.
Every dawn belongs to her now.

		JUDIT
Oh, she’s more beautiful than I.  More splendid than I.

	(The first wife goes back.)

		BLUEBEARD
The second one I found at noon.
Speechless, flaming, golden noon.
Every noon belongs to her now.
Hers is the heavy robe of fire.
Hers is the golden crown.
Every noon belongs to her now.

		JUDIT
Oh, she’s more beautiful than I.  More splendid than I.

	(The second wife goes back.)

		BLUEBEARD
The third one I found at evening.
Peaceful, languid, dusky evening.
Every evening belongs to her now.
Hers is the brown robe of sorrow.
Every evening belongs to her now.

		JUDIT
Oh, she’s more beautiful than I.  More splendid than I.

	(The third wife goes back.  Bluebeard stops in front of
	Judit, and they face each other for a long time.  The
	fourth door slowly closes.)

		BLUEBEARD
The fourth I found at night.

		JUDIT
Bluebeard, stop! Stop!

		BLUEBEARD
Starlit, black night.

		JUDIT
Stop.  Stop. I’m here still!

The rest of the segments can be viewed here. I have no connection to the person who’s posted this, nor do I know if he or she has any connection to the filmmakers. Note that the segments appear in reverse order.

I’d like to alert Bay Area readers to the upcoming performances by Berkeley Opera of my two favorite one-acts, Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle and Ravel’s L’Enfant et les Sortilèges. These two composers are not particularly known for their dramatic works, but each work reveals the composer’s complete mastery of music for the stage. An evening consisting of both of these works is not to be missed.

For the Bartók, I have the privilege of working with the cast of two singers on the nuts and bolts of Hungarian pronunciation, and I’m particularly pleased that Berkeley Opera is using my translation of the libretto for the English supertitles.

I began working on the translation recently after seeing a production that used an old singing translation that was at times incomprehensible, and at times just plain silly. My goal was to stick to the exact meanings line for line in the libretto by Béla Balázs, without sacrificing natural, comprehensible English. It is, in fact, a very tight libretto in a strict eight-syllable-per-line form borrowed from Hungarian folk poetry, and the translations I’ve seen are inappropriately verbose and formal. I hope that audiences will be able to follow the meanings of the words without being distracted by the words themselves.

This Bluebeard will feature the use of a unique, projected image background by Naomie Kremer. It’s difficult to describe here, but it’s very effective, to say nothing of just plain beautiful.

Performances are:

• Saturday, May 3, 8:00 p.m.
• Wednesday, May 7, 7:30 p.m.
• Friday, May 9, 8:00 p.m.
• Sunday, May 11, 2:00 p.m.

At Julia Morgan Theatre, 2640 College Avenue (at Derby), Berkeley.

More details are on Berkeley Opera’s web site.

Well, I haven’t had much to blog about for a while, so just to keep this thing alive, here’s a kitty playing a theremin. Enjoy.

Real blogging to return soon.