Thursday, May 19, 2011
Speaking of Composing in an Old Style...
I've been meaning to write variations on this theme since I was ten years old. My previous post was about composing in old styles, and I think I've learned a tremendous amount about thinking intentionally from undertaking this exercise. How can that be bad for any learning composer?
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Composing in the Old Style
If I could paint or at least learn to paint I would want to learn every Medieval and Renaissance technique even though they involve very complex processes of layering and treating. My wife is an artist, and she recently took a class that taught Renaissance painting techniques, and every time she would learn something new it was if an ancient secret had been revealed. It was inspiring to see her walk in the footsteps of the great masters and learn their ways.
This nudged my thinking toward music composition... Since most of my composition classes were required or taken for fun I never found out if majoring composition students needed to write music in old styles. How fun would it be to have a class of students writing a harpsichord concerto? Or write choir works using early polyphony? Maybe some schools require such exercises, but my school championed "new" music. I would hear from many a professor how the great composers of old had mastered their genres, and we shouldn't bother trying to mimic them. We could never possibly do as good a job, so we shouldn't even try. It is better to carve out our own paths.
Every composer or creator wants to be original, but it seems so important to me to study the masters of old and walk where they walked. "New" music has jutted in every direction to avoid the past, and it has run into Atonalism, Serialism, Indeterminism, Pointalism, the New Complexity, Sound Mass, Minimalism and a host of others that need to be justified through large thesis papers. Many of these techniques are good and can be used in creative ways (though usually aren't), but mostly they are reactionary. One composition student wrote in program notes for his piano piece, "I have cut out all trills, rolls, chords and voicing, because they are in the past and should remain there." That is such a limiting thought. My favorite styles of architecture involve old designs blended with new, so why can't we do the same in music? I better be careful. I think I just ran into Neo-Classicism.
This nudged my thinking toward music composition... Since most of my composition classes were required or taken for fun I never found out if majoring composition students needed to write music in old styles. How fun would it be to have a class of students writing a harpsichord concerto? Or write choir works using early polyphony? Maybe some schools require such exercises, but my school championed "new" music. I would hear from many a professor how the great composers of old had mastered their genres, and we shouldn't bother trying to mimic them. We could never possibly do as good a job, so we shouldn't even try. It is better to carve out our own paths.
Every composer or creator wants to be original, but it seems so important to me to study the masters of old and walk where they walked. "New" music has jutted in every direction to avoid the past, and it has run into Atonalism, Serialism, Indeterminism, Pointalism, the New Complexity, Sound Mass, Minimalism and a host of others that need to be justified through large thesis papers. Many of these techniques are good and can be used in creative ways (though usually aren't), but mostly they are reactionary. One composition student wrote in program notes for his piano piece, "I have cut out all trills, rolls, chords and voicing, because they are in the past and should remain there." That is such a limiting thought. My favorite styles of architecture involve old designs blended with new, so why can't we do the same in music? I better be careful. I think I just ran into Neo-Classicism.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
When everyone is super, no one is...
I just saw a fantastic documentary on Beethoven. After seeing movies like "Immortal Beloved" and "Copying Beethoven" you get a certain persepective on this giant that may or may not be true. But you can't argue with the genius and divinely inspired music that flowed from his pen- unless you're Luci Swindoll. This sister of the great preacher Chuck Swindoll made her thoughts very clear in her book "I Married Adventure." I guess everyone has different tastes. (I found out today that a chef friend of mine hates Uno's Pizza in Chicago. Insanity!) But getting back to Beethoven... This documentary included several performances and observations by great musicians. One musician who sang a baritone lead in Fidelio made this comment, "How can you compare the garbage that anyone can put out on youtube to the greatness of Beethoven's work?" As a musician who intends to use the internet for my own self promotion, I discovered the answer is: you can't. The internet is filled to the breaking point with new performers and their creations. It has gotten to the point that no one cares about new music, because there is no filter to help weed out the 99% of it that is crapola. Now with literally thousands of songs being created per day the average listener is overwhelmed. If Bach, Beethoven, the Beatles, Led Zeppelin or any kind of great musical artist existed today would we know?
There is a scene in the movie "The Incredibles" where the bad guy named Syndrome tells of his plan to sell super-power-giving inventions to the general public. He says, "Because when everyone is super, no one is." I might say, when everyone is heard at the same time, no one is. The internet has made everyone's voice accessible, but they are not equal. Should there be a filter? Who would be qualified to be that filter? Who would have the time? Seems like we are stuck with the system we now enjoy- for good or bad.
So with such little hope for a budding musician (or writer, or artist, etc.) who is as super as everyone else, what would be the point of creating? I've noticed that most material that is worth noting somehow gets discovered at least on a small scale. There are these small "neighborhoods" within the vastness of the internet, and there are people who search for such neighborhoods. Someone will take notice if you are good. But in the end the real purpose is to create for God and yourself because you were made for that purpose. Ultimately you are creating for an audience of one, and it is amazing how deafeningly loud His applause can be.
There is a scene in the movie "The Incredibles" where the bad guy named Syndrome tells of his plan to sell super-power-giving inventions to the general public. He says, "Because when everyone is super, no one is." I might say, when everyone is heard at the same time, no one is. The internet has made everyone's voice accessible, but they are not equal. Should there be a filter? Who would be qualified to be that filter? Who would have the time? Seems like we are stuck with the system we now enjoy- for good or bad.
So with such little hope for a budding musician (or writer, or artist, etc.) who is as super as everyone else, what would be the point of creating? I've noticed that most material that is worth noting somehow gets discovered at least on a small scale. There are these small "neighborhoods" within the vastness of the internet, and there are people who search for such neighborhoods. Someone will take notice if you are good. But in the end the real purpose is to create for God and yourself because you were made for that purpose. Ultimately you are creating for an audience of one, and it is amazing how deafeningly loud His applause can be.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Who-Cares Music
After graduating from college I needed a creative window. I wasn't getting any more formal instruction in music, and not having that environment to push me I felt my musical core starting to atrophy. So I decided to take composition lessons from a former prof. of mine. Back in college we had been required to write a few small pieces for a counterpoint class. Those assignments may have been my absolute favorite experiences in college. The act of composition and the sense of permanence writing down my own work made me feel euphoric. There is something weighty in the written page- holding your creation in your hand. Someone asked me how I liked writing music, and I said, "It makes me feel like God." I was creating something from nothing. Not that my assignment was anything special or original, but I can slightly understand why after writing a movement in creation God said it was good. Of course His creation was good, and the only edit he had to make was more of an addition and a really good one at that...
My composition lessons seemed to go well. I finally learned the proper way to notate music and to think of writing down music critically. My teacher (we'll call WJR) was steeped deeply in the teachings of our university. The composition department from our school focused heavily on 20th Century composition technique and philosophy. I love extended harmonies and some intelligent atonalism, but works like Reich's composition involving swinging microphones and feedbacking amplifiers loses me. John Cage's idea of using the I Ching to form his random compositions or someone else's idea of splattering black ink on a page and calling that music is in my mind ridiculous. Heaven forbid a composer actually tries to fashion something intelligent on his or her own, but maybe that's just old-fashioned thinking. WJR used to call certain kinds of music "Who-Cares Music," and he warned me about writing anything that ventures into the "Who-Cares" realm. That label for somebody's body of work scared me to death. That's the kind of phrase that could cause a creator to never create again out of pure fear. No one wants to make who-cares art or who-cares architecture or who-cares landscaping for that matter...
It seems my teacher had a couple meanings for what he would consider who-cares music, but I didn't figure this out until later. After much reflection I understood his two meanings as it pertained to music. The first deals with tonal, regular music: why write a fugue or sonata in an older tonal style since it's been done? Plus greater minds than mine have attempted and mastered it already. Writing an old form or style would be Who-Cares music because it isn't original. The second meaning for his little phrase applied to the general public: if a composer's music is played in the woods with no one to hear it did it really make a sound? What percentage of the Classical-Music-listening public actually listens to Serialism or experimental performance art music? How many people would hear what you have to write if this was your style? Well, I can tell you as an amateur composer I want people to care, and I want my work to be original without being original for originality's sake. I'm still scared of Who-Cares music, so if you hear any coming from my pen please let me know!
My composition lessons seemed to go well. I finally learned the proper way to notate music and to think of writing down music critically. My teacher (we'll call WJR) was steeped deeply in the teachings of our university. The composition department from our school focused heavily on 20th Century composition technique and philosophy. I love extended harmonies and some intelligent atonalism, but works like Reich's composition involving swinging microphones and feedbacking amplifiers loses me. John Cage's idea of using the I Ching to form his random compositions or someone else's idea of splattering black ink on a page and calling that music is in my mind ridiculous. Heaven forbid a composer actually tries to fashion something intelligent on his or her own, but maybe that's just old-fashioned thinking. WJR used to call certain kinds of music "Who-Cares Music," and he warned me about writing anything that ventures into the "Who-Cares" realm. That label for somebody's body of work scared me to death. That's the kind of phrase that could cause a creator to never create again out of pure fear. No one wants to make who-cares art or who-cares architecture or who-cares landscaping for that matter...
It seems my teacher had a couple meanings for what he would consider who-cares music, but I didn't figure this out until later. After much reflection I understood his two meanings as it pertained to music. The first deals with tonal, regular music: why write a fugue or sonata in an older tonal style since it's been done? Plus greater minds than mine have attempted and mastered it already. Writing an old form or style would be Who-Cares music because it isn't original. The second meaning for his little phrase applied to the general public: if a composer's music is played in the woods with no one to hear it did it really make a sound? What percentage of the Classical-Music-listening public actually listens to Serialism or experimental performance art music? How many people would hear what you have to write if this was your style? Well, I can tell you as an amateur composer I want people to care, and I want my work to be original without being original for originality's sake. I'm still scared of Who-Cares music, so if you hear any coming from my pen please let me know!
Monday, January 10, 2011
Purpose of Writing
Since this is my very first time blogging about anything maybe it's best to state the hopes and fears of this new online project. If I had to define myself it would be as a Christian and as an amateur composer. I love God and music, and I see His hand in its creation. My goal is to become a closer follower of Jesus Christ and to grow as a composer, and maybe this blog will help document that endeavor.
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