Peter Gabriel and creativity

The other night I was laying in bed, letting my mind wander (as I often do - also in the shower), and for some reason an interview with Peter Gabriel I read a long time ago come back to me.

It was a feature in Mix magazine on Gabriel's new (at that time) custom-built recording studio. This was around the time of "The Last Temptation of Christ," for which Gabriel composed and produced the music, so . . . we're probably talking 1989.

Gabriel talked about the creative process, and how computers were changing that process. Remember, this is in the EARLY days of MIDI, digital audio, and Madonna. Sequencing sessions often involved swapping floppies on your single-drive Macintosh Plus (if you were lucky!). Oh, how I could reminisce . . .

Back to the point. Gabriel talked about how he envisioned a system (in his studio and in his process) where he could switch from creative, intuitive, right-brained activities (say, improvising on a keyboard) to the more structured, logical, left-brained activities (creating a composition, making technical decisions, etc.).

I don't remember how he put it, but it was like having a tablet or brush or mouse or some other paradigm, and being able to use both halves of the creative process to their fullest potential. He didn't put it that way, of course - he's way smarter than I am. But it was one of the earliest times that I became aware of the different aspects of the creative process.

Which reminds me, of course, of "The Inner Game of Tennis." There is a time to be intellectual, to work at "thinking" through moves, or to physically step through moves. This is the time when our inner "coach" can be useful, observing our performance and critiquing it. But during a game (or, musicians, during a performance!), that is NOT the time for the coach to be micromanaging. During a performance, the goal should be to be completely present, in the moment, so our body (intellect, instinct, talent) can behave naturally.

Which reminds me, of course, of Aikido and other martial arts. "We do not rise to the level of our expectations, but fall to the level of our training." Which is just another way of saying, at crunch time (a match, a game, a performance), it's the "lower-level," internalized behaviors that will always be there for us. THAT'S how we know what we REALLY know. You know?

Plus I just think "So" is an AMAZING album!

A visit to NOLA

The digest version:


FOOD

Po-boys I’ve Had
-Shrimp at Coop’s place: very good
-Half shrimp half oyster at Crabby Jack’s: excellent!
-Shrimp at Freret Po-Boy and Donut Shop: outstanding! Best of the trip!

Po-boys Others Ordered That I Sampled
-Catfish at Crabby Jack’s: outstanding
-Cochon du lait at Crabby Jack’s: o.k. (disappointing, tasted like a bbq sandwich)
-Shrimp and green tomatoes with remoulade at Crabby Jack’s: outstanding!

Other Dishes

From Coop’s Place
-Red Beans: very good
-Jambalaya: excellent!
-Fried chicken: first time outstanding, second time excellent

From Freret
-Fried catfish: outstanding
-Crawfish Etoufee: excellent!
-Red beans: outstanding

From Frank’s Restaurant
-Muffaletta: very good to excellent, generally pleasing.

From Dat Dog
-Crawfish (and pork) sausage on a grilled sourdough roll with Andouille sauce
and grilled onions. Un-believable! Highlight of the trip thus far!

From Central Grocery
-Muffaletta: excellent. Not heated/toasted, as Frank’s was. Both are legitimate
approaches. I think Central Grocery by a skootch.

MUSIC

-Chris Ardoin and Nustep at the Rock and Bowl (Zydeco+ish)
Entertaining, good band, vocals sometimes got in the way

-Kermit at Blue Nile
Good, but not his best stuff; playing to the tourist crowd (librarians!) – did “I got
a feeling” by the Black-Eyed Peas. Really? Left after the first set, since he said
he was bringing a DJ in to join for the next set

-Lagniappe Brass Band at the Balcony Music Club (BMC)
Excellent – almost outstanding! They’ve only been together about a year, but
they’ve got a really tight sound – drum set, not two drummers. More
progressive harmonies, etc.

-Rebirth Brass Band at the Maple Leaf
Excellent, and solid. Very consistent. Ended up sitting at the bar because the
preppy college kids on the floor got annoying with their talking and faux-
“getting into the music”

-Johnny Vidacovich, June Yamagishi, and Keiko Komaki at the Maple Leaf
Killin’!! The guy’s a monster, and the group was fun (and good!)

What's Wrong With Choral Music Today

20 or 25 years ago, some people started writing a different kind of choral music. My first awareness of it was in some works by Morten Lauridsen - think "Dirait-on" - but I'm sure there were others. As a composer, I think of it in technical terms: Lots of extended diatonic harmonies; lots of "V" chords which contained both the leading tone AND the tonic; added seconds are de rigueur; and, whenever possible, keep the tempo and harmonic rhythm slow so the audience (and choir) can soak up those pseudo-dissonant chords.

Now, to be sure, Lauridsen does not write solely in this style - his madrigal cycles contain some fascinating (and challenging) writing. However, his "Magnum Mysterium" is perhaps the most visible work of his using these techniques. And it is a beautiful piece (which, I am sorry to say, does not translate terribly well to instrumental music - more on that later). But Lauridsen kicked off a movement that is going strong today, largely because of Eric Whitacre.

Whitacre is the closest thing the choral world has to a rock star. His music is hugely popular, especially with young choral singers. I do not begrudge him his success, and I only slightly begrudge him his flowing rockstar hair. Unfortunately, success breeds imitation, and I think it is safe to say there are a LOT of Whitacre imitators out there. Including Whitacre himself.

Really, it's a good problem to have: The reason for the imitators is simply because people like to listen to it and choirs like to sing it. And this, I think, is a large part of the popularity of the style: kids in choirs like the feel of those tight harmonies, full of seconds and ninths (but nothing too dissonant!).

But here is the problem: many composers are simply writing music for effect. Or, put another way, the music is not about expressing the text, but rather just about creating beautiful sounds. It seems that many composers come up with the beautiful, sonorous music first, then find a text to slap on. Or, as is the case with a recent "Gloria" I heard, the text is just a vehicle for the composer to incorporate as many trendy styles in one piece as possible. With little thought for unity, or continuity, or (heaven forbid) the text.

There seems to be a lack of originality in the choral world right now. If you want to be popular, write like (standard) Whitacre. (You could, of course, take a chance, and write like a DIFFERENT Whitacre: "She Weeps Over Rahoon" is one of his more original pieces which had its beginnings as a piano improvisation.)

I am not denigrating Whitacre, except for maybe his hair just a bit. He took elements of a style introduced by Lauridsen (and others I'm not aware of?) and took the next evolutionary step. And he has a range of compositions for a range of situations, some more original than others. What I AM denigrating is all the composers who choose to write in Eric Whitacre's voice rather than finding their own. That's taking the easy way out.

An original style does not need to be dissonant or difficult to listen to. (It seems the freshest new music these days comes from Scandinavia.) But dissonance and difficulty have their place as well.

Directors: Look beyond Whitacre and Whitacre Lite. Composers: Look beyond your own experience. High School choral students: Look beyond the hair. (Or not - that one was just for fun!)

Notes to Myself

Well, here we are at another New Music Festival here at Ball State. Lots of great music lined up for the next few days, including two pieces of mine. And, as is almost always the case with music with live performers, I have been making a number of revisions to scores this week.

Basically, I've been improving the notation based on player feedback. Which is a good thing. But I got to thinking: "Gosh, what if I just wrote it right the FIRST time?!"

To that end, this is the beginning of a note to myself. I planning on adding to it as I learn. These are not rules so much as guidelines, to quote the Pirate. Also, there are many, MANY times where the notation is a very specific way for a very specific reason, and the players just have to suck it up and do their best. But really, lots of the time a little change makes everybody happier.

• When possible, try to have important moments occur at the beginning of a measure. Sure, I may feel this entrance as an upbeat to the next measure, but it's probably going to SOUND like a downbeat, and the players will have an easier time if it really IS an upbeat.
• Even though I may feel a section in an "eighth note" meter (3/8, 5/8), if there are lots of fast notes (32nds, etc.), rebar it in 3/4 or 5/8 so the fast notes are sixteenths rather than 32nds. Really, it sounds the same.
• Apparently, 7/8 is not a completely natural time signature for everybody, like it is for me. Who knew?
• Pauses don't have to ALWAYS be notated by rests. Sometimes it's o.k. to trust the player to pause a while without necessarily counting two measures of silent beats.
• If I am going to be the pianist for the performance, WRITE SOMETHING I CAN PLAY! Moron.

Share any thoughts of your own! I will add them here if they're not totally lame! :-)

JR

It's been a while

As I was rifling though the flotsam of my life, I realized I hadn't contributed to my blog in quite some time. It's not for want of things to say, of course, I just hadn't thought of it. So this is just a quick note to say "hi," and I'm still here.

By the way, am I the only one who thinks there is a difference between "a while" and "awhile?" Actually, I think I just prefer "a while," because I usually mean "a [span of time]." Anyway . . .

My brain has been pummeled over the last several months. Largely because of many, MANY academic struggles. But this is good. A doctorate (I have always thought) should not be a particularly easy endeavor. I disagree with those professors and students alike who feel it MUST be a painful, humbling experience. That's just silly. But my brain has definitely been stretched as of late. And it feels good! At least, after it's all done.

This next semester looks to be a bit easier, but with new brain-stretching opportunities. In particular, I will be diving into the electronic side of composition. Not sequencing and Pro Tools - I've done that stuff for years. I mean Max/MSP and the like. I have always loved computers, and have torn them apart and put them together, programmed them and repurposed them. This will just be another in a long line of computer-geekdom phases. However, in this case, it will be about 95% completely new to me. I have no problem being completely ignorant (I do it well, and quite often), but I tend to be a bit impatient with myself. But that's all part of the game.

I hope I continue to learn throughout my life; the more I learn, the more I realize there is to know!

The First Line

I was listening to NPR, as I often do, and so should you, and I heard a story on the latest iteration of "Three Minute Fiction," where participants write stories that can be read aloud in three minutes or less, roughly 600 words.

The latest contest introduced a "first line/last line" element to the mix. (For anyone involved in improv comedy, this should be very familiar!) The guest judge, Michael Cunningham, provided the first line and last line of the story, and the writer is to supply everything in-between.

But this is not about that. Not exactly.

During the interview, Cunningham was asked if he struggles with developing the first line of a novel. He said, “I agonize for months over first lines.” Indeed, he also said (in my heavily edited version), “Once you have the language and the rhythm and the point of view and the tone of the first line . . . the novel has … begun to acquire its identity . . . and you know what version of the English language to write it in .”

Again, art is art.

Composers have the same issue: How to begin the piece? I would argue this is even more crucial in this age of sound bites and instant opinions: Grab the listener from the first sound.

Composers differ in the amount of pre-compositional planning they take part in. But in these days of "pan-stylism," where a composer has at his disposal the collected techniques of the previous six centuries (or more), it is more important than ever to determine what "universe" any particular composition will inhabit. "Tonal oder Atonal?" What will the pitch material be? Texture? Rhythm (or lack thereof)? Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Just like Cunningham and his prose, once a compositional universe is determined, the piece can begin. OR a composer may come up with an excellent beginning of a piece, and only THEN begin to work out the ramifications of what has been written.

Civilians have no idea of the struggles artists go through, whether music, writing, painting, whatever. But frankly, that's o.k. That's not their job.

You be the judge . . .

Listen to THIS,
then listen to THIS.

Hmm?

How about another:

Listen to THIS,
then listen to THIS.

Notice any similarities?

Just thinkin' out loud here.







#1: Footloose, Kenny Loggins, 1984
#2: Funk #49, The James Gang, 1970

#3: The University of Florida Fight Song, composed ???
#4: I'm Henery the Eighth I Am, originally written in 1911, popularized by Herman's Hermits in 1965