About the Composer

It had been years since I’ve looked at it, but I’ve had the vocal score of Sweeney Todd out for the past couple of weeks, having just seen the revival currently on at American Conservatory Theatre (extended for still one more week).

Years ago I used to spend hours with this score, so it’s kind of like an old friend. Right now I don’t really have time to play with it, so it’s just sitting there staring at me all day. Funny thing though: since I’ve had it out, I’ve completed two Eros at Breakfast songs, and I’m now closing in on a third. Normally I’m a hopeless slowpoke. I think on some level I know the score is watching me, and I don’t want to let it down.

Let’s call it “The Sweeney Effect”

It’s been a while since I’ve had anything to blog about, so I thought I’d just check in, in case anyone’s still reading this.

Later today I’m shlepping my family to Budapest for three weeks of fun, cake and eccentric conveyances. Someone recently asked if this trip has anything to do with my turning 40. I hadn’t made the connection, but since then my explanation as to why we’re going has been “mid-life crisis”. I can’t afford a motorcycle. And they scare me.

As of yesterday, a new draft of the libretto for Eros at Breakfast is complete. As lyricist, I’ve been the one holding it up. Contact me privately if you’re a theater person and would like to read it. It’s been interesting: I’ve discovered that one of the nice things about doing my own lyrics is that a big part of the composing takes place at the same time. I get rhythms in my head, and can sort of already hear the music in most cases. So I hope that will mean that the composing part will go quickly. (Yeah, right.)

The new CD containing my clarinet/piano piece American Standard has been out in the U.K. for a while and is inching toward release in the U.S. Amazon says it will by July 24th. Meanwhile, it’s now showing up (at a better price) for order direct from the distributor Qualiton. Also, I’m trying something new and have made the score and part of the piece available through the nifty distribution service from Subito Music.

Maybe I’ll do some blogging from Budapest. We’ll see.

As mentioned in my last post, the opening song from Eros at Breakfast was performed a couple of weeks ago, launching what I hope will be a series of similar informal performances as the pieces start coming together.

It has occurred to me that it’s relatively easy to also document this work-in-progress on video, and so we got back together over the weekend to shoot this scene for that purpose. The result is a very tight, energetic and musically accurate performance. On the other hand, this particular scene calls for a lot going on onstage, and all we have is our main character (the only one who actually sings here), so you need to use your imagination to some degree.

Thanks again to Loren Nordlund, praised in my last post, and to wonder-pianist Jennifer Peringer, who, it turns out, has five hands.

Without further ado, please have a look at “Routine”. Video and a very brief synopsis are on a dedicated page.

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.

In the last two posts, I alluded to the musical I’m currently working on and expect to finish within a few months. The musical adaptation of Robertson Davies’ one-act play Eros At Breakfast began almost by accident about two years ago when playwright/performer Janet Roitz mentioned the play in the course of a conversation we were having.

It turns out Janet had long been an avid fan of Davies’ work in general, and had wished for a long time to stage this play. As she described to me what it’s about, my wheels started turning almost immediately, and we both came up with the idea of adapting it.

Eros At Breakfast is a fantasy set in the solar plexus of a young man. The play envisions the various components of the human body as departments of some big bureaucracy such as the military or a big corporation. As changes seem to be on the way in this man’s otherwise unremarkable life, the various departments are affected in different ways and amusing conflicts come about.

In the preface of Four Favourite Plays, Robertson Davies describes how he got the idea for Eros At Breakfast. He remembers that at his school they used to put on what were known as “health dialogues”, which were meant to teach lessons about hygiene and good health habits.

I was impressed as a child by a health dialogue the scene of which was laid in a human stomach. Various characters appeared there, of which some were quarrelsome and harmful like Piece of Pie and Slice of Cake, and others were of a noble and uplifting nature like Fresh Vegetables and Whole-wheat Bread. The hero and heroine were handsome young Mr. Apple and Miss Glass of Milk … How delightful, I thought, to have a play going on inside somebody.

In Davies’ resulting play, the characters are Chremes and Aristophontes, the heads of the Solar Plexus and Intelligence departments, respectively, along with Parmeno, an envoy from the heart and Hepatica from the Liver. It’s a very funny play, and has just the right level of simplicity so as to lend itself to musical adaptation. Janet has written an absolutely hilarious draft adaptation. I’ll be happy if my lyrics are half as funny as Janet’s dialogue. There isn’t enough music yet for me to say much about it here, but I will discuss that soon.

I get into such trouble with this stuff: I’m a classical composer who wants to write musicals; I’m a theater composer with Uptown training whose music is weird, unpredictable and unnecessarily difficult.

In classical circles, it’s OK, actually. As far as I know, I haven’t been judged negatively because there are musicals in my bio, but in my head at least, there’s the danger of that. (You’re judging me right now, aren’t you!)

But dealing with theater people has been a tricky dance. Actors tend to like my stuff, but they look at it kind of sidewise and treat it as an oddity. They don’t complain about how difficult it is, but they do make a topic of it. In one case I was turned down by a playwright because my music wasn’t “tuneful” enough. He knew what he wanted and had a valid point, although I was baffled at the time. I think my music is very lyrical and reasonably easy. But what do I know? I can take 4-part dictation, so my idea of easy has nothing to do with it. I’m still learning on that front.

Here’s the problem: Most people equate “musical theater” with “Broadway”. I do not. Broadway has turned into something that I’m not particularly interested in being a part of. There’s still a place for Sondheim there, because he’s Sondheim. Put someone else’s name on Passion or Sunday in the Park With George, and they’ll show you the door pretty quickly.

So where do I fit in? No really, I’m asking.

Given the nomenclature available to us now, I have two choices: it’s a “musical” or an “opera”. Eros At Breakfast doesn’t quite fit the average person’s idea of either of these. It’s clearly not an opera, because, for one thing, it’s not all sung. It’s written with actors in mind, not singers. Singing actors, yes, but actors. That’s why I call it a musical.

But the music is conceived much in the way of an opera. It’s not lead-sheet tunes to be scored for reeds, bass and drums. The accompaniment helps tell the story; the composition is often driven by counterpoint, and not by chord progressions. Some songs don’t end, because the character is interrupted, so there’s a contiguous feel similar to most contemporary operas.

So, no, this isn’t intended for Broadway, although of course I would be delighted. Maybe someday Broadway will go back to being about theater more than it’s about money. For now, I can think of numerous regional and local theater companies around the country that have done very well with this sort of thing.

(But they’ll still think it’s weird.)

It seems likely there will now be some changes in the nature of this blog, at least for a while. Some readers may lose interest. I hope not, but it’s probably inevitable. Perhaps new ones will come along.

When I started blogging in August of 2005, I was in the middle of writing an orchestral piece, and that’s what was on my mind, plus related things like the whole Hungary thing. So that’s mainly what I wrote about.

I have mentioned in passing from time to time that in addition to being a “classical” composer, I also write musicals. This was my original path into composition, and what I think I’m really good at. At the moment I’m in sprint mode to finish Eros At Breakfast, a musical that’s been on my plate for what must be a couple of years now. With crazy plumbing and technology crises behind me, I’ve made rapid progress over the past month, and I can really see this thing being finished now. I’m shooting for the Spring.

So, for the time being, many of my posts will deal with what I’m working on. While wearing my musical theater hat, I also write lyrics, I’m finally ready to claim, so I may be discussing that as well to some extent. If you’re one who shrugs or winces at the thought of a “musical”, I hope you’ll keep reading anyway, or at least checking the headlines. If not, I understand.

While I wait for some red tape to clear around one project, I’ve decided to go ahead with another one (and see how disciplined I can be about finishing it quickly). Now is the time for the song cycle I’ve had in the pipeline for a while now.

Among the texts used in my 1996 chorus/orchestra piece Cycle of Friends are translations by Innes Herdan of two Chinese poems from the Tang era. Despite their being translations, they are probably the most satisfying poems I’ve ever worked with. So, I’ve decided to return to her book 300 T’ang Poems to see what grabs me for a new song cycle.

Now, setting poetry in translation raises some interesting questions to begin with. How familiar do you have to be with the original language? How much do you need to know about the given language’s literary tradition? Is it necessary to “get” each and every allusion in the poem? Etcetera.

Each composer will have his or her own set of answers for those questions, but should not begin composing without asking them. I think it is helpful to find out what one can about the traditions and conventions that the poem might be based on. However, in the end, I’m setting a poem in English, and it’s the English rhythm and the choice of English words that matters. If it’s a faithful translation, then the overall effect desired by the original poet will still inform the composition.

I enjoy Mrs. Herdan’s translations, because she is a wonderful poet in her own right, and adds that gift to her understanding of the original Chinese. Although I will find out what I can about the significance of various images in the poems, which will of course inform the resulting music, I’m also likely to respond to them as original poetry, and interpret them in my own way.

The issue of translating Chinese poetry is particularly delicate. The written language consists of characters representing whole words or ideas, as opposed to letters representing phonemes or syllables. Also, it is a very terse, elliptical language with no articles, genders, cases, tenses or other fussy grammatical concerns, which leaves the translator a lot of latitude to be creative.

Example
Here’s a literal translation of four five-character lines from a poem by Du Fu:

Fragrant mist cloud dressed hair wet
Clear brightness jade arm cold
What time lean on empty curtain
Pair shine tears trace dry

Here’s how Innes Herdan translated those lines:

In the sweet mists her cloud-like hair is damp;
In the clear shining her jade-white arms are cold.
When shall we two lean beside the filmy curtain
With moonlight on us both and the tear-stains dry?

Many of these Tang-era poems take rigid forms involving either five characters or seven characters per line. I imagine they’re quite musical to listen to in the original language. (In fact, the Chinese for “recite”, as in poetry, is literally “chant”.) It would be a tall order to even approximate that in translation, and I doubt anyone has done it successfully. Whether the translation will also “sing” just depends on the translator.

Innes Herdan keeps her lines short with “grammar words” at a minimum. The stresses in the English line correspond to the characters in the Chinese line. For example, the character “house” in the Chinese might become “in my house” in English, with emphasis on the word “house”. But the real magic is in the actual choice of words, and the occasional liberties that are taken. My favorite example in the lines quoted above is Mrs. Herdan’s use of the word “filmy”, of which there is no apparent sign in the original Chinese.

As for my piece, I’ve zeroed in on several poems by Du Fu (712�770), which I’ve organized in rather an interesting way. More about that will be posted here in the future.

How I’ve been neglecting the blog! Haven’t had time or energy recently, but there’s a slew of items in the works.

The upcoming performance of my new fanfare for the Washington International School, it turns out, will not only be a premiere, but a very rare conducting appearance for me. I was asked yesterday if I would do it, and, flattered, I agreed.

If my memory is correct, I haven’t conducted in public since 1998, and before that only rarely. For a long time it was something I really wanted to do, but that interest waned as I gained experience. Turns out, I may have the ear training and other musical skills that are required, but not the others: leadership, time management, sparkling personality, floppy hair.

Maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet, but I’m alarmingly calm about the whole thing. It’s only a two-minute piece for a small brass and percussion ensemble, and someone else is doing the real work of running the rehearsals. Also, it’s my old school, so I’ll be among friends.

The fanfare will be performed during WIS’s 40th Anniversary celebration at the shiny new Roundhouse Theater in Bethesda, Maryland on May 12th and 13th.

My alma mater, the Washington International School, is celebrating their 40th anniversary this year. How kind of them to ask me to write a short fanfare for the occasion. Like my last commission for Letter To Hungary, I’m very happy to do it for sentimental reasons.

There’s only one problem: What’s a fanfare?