About the Composer

Last year I wrote a little something about the relationship between dramatic composing and acting. I just had a great experience working with an actor, so now there’s more to say. I’m reminded that, in writing a musical theater piece, you’re never going to be “finished” until you involve actors in the process.

Every so often, a non-musical friend will hear something in a piece of mine, and say, “Oh, I like that. Was that your idea?”. Of course it was my idea! Every tiny detail is a decision. The same is true of acting, although I’m sure even fewer people realize it. Most people probably don’t really appreciate the craft of acting. You may enjoy a performance and be moved by it, but do you ever think about how they do it? It’s really hard work, and good actors make it look easy.

On Sunday we gave an informal performance of the opening song from Eros at Breakfast. I had expected it to be just a rough read-through, but it turned out to be a thoroughly thought-out performance — off book — by San Francisco actor Loren Nordlund.

Loren came to our first meeting having studied the score and analyzed the lyrics, and said, “OK. Here’s how I’d like to do it.” He immediately picked up on the sort of bizarre, Dr. Seuss-like aesthetic we’re going for, and brought a slew of interesting elements to the character, including some costume ideas that suited this particular event.

Watching Loren put this together, what struck me most was realizing how many tiny decisions he had made, particularly what he’s doing with his hands. I noticed that, more often than not, his hand gestures were consistent and specific. Whether we knew it or not, his hands were helping to tell the story. Next time you go to a movie, watch your favorite actor’s hands, and see what you think. Tiny decisions.

But most edifying was the reminder that no matter how polished my song seems on paper, it can’t really be finished until after an actor gets his hands on it. Let your actor make choices, and be flexible about your tempos and dynamics. You’ll find that they often can know more about your material than you do. Then, go back and revise.

P.S. - This particular song, “Routine”, was actually finished last summer, so I’ve had many months to grow fond of my MIDI rendering from Sibelius. It was a thrill to finally see it on its feet. I’m eager to share it. As soon as our schedules allow, we’re going to make a video which I may post here.

Just came down from doing a bit of bedtime reading to my son. Tonight’s selection was a little on the long side compared to the usual fare, so found myself looking for ways to make it more interesting for myself as well as my son.

I thought it would be fun to see if I could make good decisions on the fly about which words to emphasize, where and for how long to pause, what to do with pitch and tone, etc. Eventually, I realized what it was I was doing:

Acting.

Not that I was any good at it. I’ve never acted before; in fact, ever since school I’ve gone to great lengths to avoid any form of public speaking. But having been involved with theater for many years, the craft of acting is something I’ve thought about a lot, and I admire people who do it well. It’s harder than most people think.

Meanwhile, during all this I was also thinking about how much fun it would be to do a little semi-staged duet based on this particular book. My “acting” choices were merging into composition choices.

Here’s the thing: to write good dramatic music you need to use the same bone in your head that actors use when they’re doing what they do. Especially in opera, where the performer doesn’t have a lot of room for interpretation, you’re the one making the acting choices.

In a straight play, an actor can trial-and-error dozens of different line readings until he or she finds the “right” one. It can even change from night to night. But, if it’s sung, the composer has already made that decision for the actor, and there usually isn’t much latitude for reinterpretation.

(Hopefully, the composer has given it some thought.)