Stressful weeks!

In my Contemporary Performace Practice seminar the only real grade is the final presentation and paper.  I've known about it all semester, I've had my topic loosely chosen since the beginning of October and of course three weeks ago I was sick on the day we signed up for the presentation and I got tomorrow, instead of after thanksgiving.  This is a blessing and a curse in that I only had a few weeks to get it all ready, but I would be done before thanksgiving and I could write the paper over the "break" (in quotes because UNT only give thurs and friday off). 

Of course the focus on my topic has shifted throughout my reseatch and I finally have a solid topic.  I am exploring the strictness of time in some proportionally notated works by Toru Takemitsu.  If you aren't a musician what that means is Takemitsu wrote a few pieces that don't have defined time-divisions (like a meter with tempo [remember from band a time signature 'four-four' and a tempo 'Quarter = 90 beats per minute]) but with gestures of notes with no clearly quantized (lined up) rhythms.  While this is really an oversimplification, it's the best I can do.  What typical performers see when they see proportional notation is freedom and expression.  They think they can hold notes longer because it may be a note that is to be held for 4 to 6 seconds, which gives them an option for how long they hold the note.

What I am proving through Bryce, Water-ways, and Rain Spell is that Takemitsu did not intend for the spatial notation to give hte performers licence to alter the time more than he has allowed.  There is very intricate timing-cues and event orderings that make the piece sound how it does.  If a careless ensemble were to perform these works they could really mess up the sound by being lazy.  Contant diligence is required by the performers to be listening and knowing the other parts to see how they incorporate into the fray. 

I am especially interested in this because my new string quartet has many minutes of spatial notation and I've been frustrated with my quartet for not knowing how to interpret it and I have to explain it and count it for them.  Spatial notation is nothing new, but apparently it's not dogma quite yet, and how to interpret it is even farther behind than even knowing what it is.  I am hoping to bridge some kind of gap for performers on what the composer's intent it and how to interact with the music.

At any rate, I've found this very interesting and useful to my research interests.  I also really love the music.  If you want to hear bits of Bryce  or Rain Spell go to this page and have a listen for a minute.  It's really beautiful, exotic stuff. 

my work setup

I got up early to work on my piece (because I decided to do a final copy on the computer) and had to make a run across town to get a numerical pad which expedites the copying process greatly in Sibelius.  I've been working and I thought that I love my setup, so I thought I'd share it with you alls.

This is an overall shot of my desk, which is actually Nick's dining room table that's in the living room.

We never use it so I thought I'd just camp out here to get my work done.  Two screens, one bible, one cup of coffee, and a lot of cool stuff (notice the stack of 'brainy' books).

A vertical shot of it.  I put in that light a few weeks ago because this side of the living room was really dark and I couldn't see anything, it really helps.  Also notice above the painting that my grandmother Dorothy Norton Peringer painted in '63.  I love it being above where I work.

Two displays!  Well, one extra really as one automatically comes with the macbook.

A hot cup of coffee with pumpkin spice creamer in it.  It's a seasonal favorite, so I need to use it while it lasts.

 A handy paper holder I got at U of I after seeing Bukvich have one (I actually have one of his around here somewhere).

A shot of the right side with my three hard drives (too many!) and my new numerical pad.

This is where I live and work.  I am really starting to like it, so much so that I might try to buy this table when my lease ends and Nick and I move apart.  I don't have class till 3 today, so I'll be working here all day, I love it!

Sunday mornings

I love my Sunday mornings.  They are the highlight of my week.  It's weird that I'm not at the age where instead of Friday or Saturday nights, I look forward to my Sunday mornings (Saturdays are usually similar).

I wake up, get a shower and get ready and get to Starbucks so I can compose and get a coffee (lately pumpkin spice latte's).  I don't get coffee from there during the week as it's too much money, so I save it for the weekends.  I get there, get my coffee and just compose.  It's my designated composition time.  I look at it like time with music and God, because I have church at 11, which is a great time because it's enough time in the morning to get a good session in.  I don't have to think about anything else, work, school work, money, or anything else.  I can just sit, drink my coffee, think about God, write music.  It's really the perfect time for me.  Today the sun was out, it was blue skies, and I worked on getting to the end of my final hand-draft.  I got there and came up with a great idea for the end which extended the ending by over 30 seconds which brings the total time for the piece to 13 minutes.  I still have 9 bars after the mid-point to work out, but I have a good idea of what to do and I'm going to take care of that after church.

I realized two things about who I am as a composer and how I look at my music:
1) I'm not experimental for experimental's sake.
    -Too many composers are trying to be experimental just to be experimental.  Their music usually lacks soul, emotion, and creativity.  It becomes a gimmick, and people usually forget about it except for maybe some gimmickey "experimental" aspect.  I want people to remember my music for what it makes them feel, not that I'm writing gushy-hyper-emotional-trash just to get people to weep.  There is a balance between the brain and the heart but they both should be fully engaged.
2) I'm not composing to impress anyone.
   -Too many composers write to impress other people, namely musicians and namely other composers.  My music is not impressive from a technical, or virtuosic standpoint.  I really don't care for it to.  Not that I write simplistic music, although I value simplicity and a clear sense of direction.  I don't care if anyone listens to my music and are impressed by it's exciting elements.  My music is not bombastic, or overly intense.  It has times where it can be a little 'notey', but overall I like space to be a factor in the structure.   My SQ has a lot of space in it, maybe too much in fact.  The first three and last four minutes are long phrases with just a few notes held throughout.  I like it and think it will be a meditative thing.