In my earlier post on this topic, I discussed judgement in general, and specific ways in which this can be applied to music. In today's post, I will write about the challenges in evaluating compositions, and suggest twenty-one aspects to consider when evaluating a new work. In my next blog, I will look at the the three ways, or "planes," of listening to music proposed by Aaron Copland in "What to Listen for in Music" (1957). At a later date, I will continue this series by writing a blog on judgement in composition competitions, and in the academic setting.
The subtitle for today's entry could be, "It Takes a Village," because it is about something that can be extremely valuable in the creative process: Seeking feedback from others, and giving feedback to others. Just as in the African proverb, "It takes a village to raise a child," it also takes a village to develop a composer. We don't become good composers on our own.
One way in which this is manifested in our composition classes is that everyone is encouraged to comment on others' weekly presentations. Evaluating a composition we are hearing for the first time can be challenging; it can be difficult to sort out our reaction to the work, and even more difficult to know what to say about it. When students play in-progress works for each other in our composition class, we sometimes struggle to come up with comments that are constructive, insightful, and honest.
Perhaps because they make us feel good, the easiest comments to make are positive ones, such as:
However, the last comment above is the most helpful because it is the most specific. It is heartening to get positive feedback, but a composer usually wants to know how to make their compositions better; honest reactions from others are essential in achieving this.
More difficult to articulate are comments that might be seen as being negative. Most of us would prefer to avoid being confrontational with others (unless, of course, they cut us off in traffic!), but what do we say if we don't like, or don't react well, to sections within the composition, or even the entire composition?
My suggestions are to (i) find something positive to say if you can, but (ii) be truthful about what didn't work for you, or what you found confusing. You don't necessarily need to know how to fix a problem, or even exactly what the problem is, in order to comment on it. However, if you can, (iii) try to be specific; below is a list of twenty ways to do this, and they don't just apply to evaluating others' works; ask them about your own compositions as well:
Sometimes we have difficulty articulating a criticism in a focussed way. We may need to hear the piece again (and again) in order to formulate a well-articulated suggestion. But if this isn't possible — and in our composition class it often isn't, because there are many students' works we need to listen to every class — then you could say something like, "around the top of page two, there was something that I wasn't sure about, but I'm not exactly sure what it was… Do you know what I mean?" If the answer is no, perhaps someone else from the class will jump in and say, "yeah, I wondered about that too; I think it may be that the mood suddenly changes there," or some similar, more specific comment. This occurs a lot in our class, in my experience.
If you have a constructive critique to make — meaning a specific concern, idea, or reaction to the music — take comfort in knowing that the recipient (a) is probably, like you, hoping to hear honest reactions to their music, and (b) does not need to act on any of the opinions expressed about their music; you are just suggesting things for them to think about, some of which may help make their composition stronger.
When receiving feedback, try to:
There is a fine line between having the courage of one's convictions, and being so stubborn that you signal an unwillingness to consider opinions that are counter to your own.
If we receive feedback in the spirit in which it is given, it can help us to improve our music.
I'm evidently repeating myself; here's what I wrote on this topic quite a while ago (my second-ever blog entry, in fact!):
The subtitle for today's entry could be, "It Takes a Village," because it is about something that can be extremely valuable in the creative process: Seeking feedback from others, and giving feedback to others. Just as in the African proverb, "It takes a village to raise a child," it also takes a village to develop a composer. We don't become good composers on our own.
One way in which this is manifested in our composition classes is that everyone is encouraged to comment on others' weekly presentations. Evaluating a composition we are hearing for the first time can be challenging; it can be difficult to sort out our reaction to the work, and even more difficult to know what to say about it. When students play in-progress works for each other in our composition class, we sometimes struggle to come up with comments that are constructive, insightful, and honest.
Perhaps because they make us feel good, the easiest comments to make are positive ones, such as:
- "That was great!"
- "I really like it!"
- "I really like the [rhythmic freedom, text setting, harmonic language, colour, use of space, etc.]!"
However, the last comment above is the most helpful because it is the most specific. It is heartening to get positive feedback, but a composer usually wants to know how to make their compositions better; honest reactions from others are essential in achieving this.
More difficult to articulate are comments that might be seen as being negative. Most of us would prefer to avoid being confrontational with others (unless, of course, they cut us off in traffic!), but what do we say if we don't like, or don't react well, to sections within the composition, or even the entire composition?
My suggestions are to (i) find something positive to say if you can, but (ii) be truthful about what didn't work for you, or what you found confusing. You don't necessarily need to know how to fix a problem, or even exactly what the problem is, in order to comment on it. However, if you can, (iii) try to be specific; below is a list of twenty ways to do this, and they don't just apply to evaluating others' works; ask them about your own compositions as well:
21 Things to Consider when Evaluating a Composition (in progress, or completed)
- Are there aspects that could be better notated such as note spellings, rhythms, etc.? This can be a good starting point for a critique, because it is seen as being a more objective area on which to comment, which makes it a "safer" starting point than critical subjective comments (such as, "okay, I gotta be honest here, bars 20 to 120 make absolutely no sense to me! NONE! ZERO!!! What the hell were you thinking there?"). But even notation issues can involve some subjectivity; when it comes to enharmonic spellings, for example, some choices are clearly more logical than others, but there are times when what is more logical to one person is less-so to another. But, for the most part, notation aspects are indeed more objective than compositional quality aspects.
- How is the opening? Does the opening grab your attention, or does it draw you in more gradually? Either way can work, but if neither occurs, you may need to rethink your opening.
- Does an idea/section go on too long, or not long enough? The latter is fairly common in works by inexperienced composers.
- Are there too many ideas? Too many ideas, like information overload, can overwhelm the listener. If you use a limited number of ideas and grow at least some of them in various ways, the listener may be more drawn into the music.
- Are musical ideas heard once and then abandoned? This is related to the previous point — chances are that if there are too many ideas, some are heard only once — but theoretically, a composition with only a few themes could present some of them once. Either way, it's generally a good idea to organize your musical architecture so that main musical ideas are heard again in some form (e.g., exact or varied repetitions; motivic development and/or transformation of the theme). That said, not every idea needs to be heard more than once… A composition can seem pedestrian if every theme is repeated, varied, developed, etc., in some way.
- Which are the important ideas? How does the music convey this to the listener?
- Do the musical ideas seem unrelated? Not all thematic material in music needs to be overtly related — contrasting ideas are also welcome — but one of the fundamental organizing principles of classical music composition over the past millennium has been the presence of some degree of organic unity.
- Does it have a mixture of stability and instability? Longer-form classical works have sections that are harmonically stable (such as thematic presentations), as well as other sections that are less stable (such as transitions, and development). Instability creates tension, and stability can provide a resolution of that tension; both are important elements in music.
- Are some sections seemingly "stuck" around one particular pitch? Could it benefit from a "modulation" at some point? Modulation in non-tonal music may seem like a strange idea (how can you change key if you're not in a key?), but it can be achieved by establishing a "home" pitch class (e.g., D), then moving away from it to establish new (and probably temporary) "home" pitch classes (e.g., Bb, Ab, etc.).
- How are cadences created? Are they effective? Do they sound out of place, perhaps because they are borrowed from traditional tonal cadence formulas? Cadences in tonal music have varying degrees of strength in terms of the closure of thematic ideas; how do we create varying degrees of strength in post-tonal cadences?
- Does it have artistic integrity? This is difficult to define, but it is something we tend to recognize when we hear it… Perhaps I will post a blog entry about this at some future point.
- Is it too predictable? Or is it so unpredictable that you find it confusing? Or does the balance between predictability and unpredictability seem just right? If so, is does it always feel "just right?" Or are there parts where things feel overly predictable?
- Related to the previous point, when ideas are repeated, are they varied in any way? "Copy and paste" capabilities in computer music notation software make it easy to repeat material, but consider varying repeated material as well. Too much exact repetition becomes too predictable, and this can lose the listener's interest; little (or big) changes to repeated material may surprise the listener, and maintain or increase interest level.
- Does the texture ever change? Does it change too much, or not enough?
- Is the texture too busy? If so, it can be hard for the listener to know what the relative importance of different lines is? Always be clear on the hierarchy of your musical materials. What line is most important? What elements have a background, or middle-ground role? If our main melodic idea is covered up by the other instruments, the listener may not be able to focus on it. Alternatively, you may wish to write a piece in which texture itself is the focus; no single line is meant to be most prominent, just the entire texture as gestalt. Well-known examples of this include Ligeti's Atmosphères, and Penderecki's Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima; this approach is sometimes called "sound mass" composition. Whichever approach you take should be clear to the listener.
- Is there a clear climax? Does it arrive too early or late?
- Does it have an identifiable musical character, within sections or overall? Is the musical character consistent within sections? Does it evolve in an effective way, or do mood changes seem disconnected/unrelated? Sometimes we may write very fine musical ideas that are not connected in any way to the rest of the composition; perhaps they would fit better in a different composition, or different movement?
- Does it sound too much like the musical style of someone else? This is a tricky issue; I have written blogs on originality, the gist of which is that originality is important in art, but not as important as many tend to assume. See links below for more on this. Also, imitating a composer or compositional practice is a time-honoured way of developing craft. If you are going to imitate someone's style or technique, however, all I suggest is that you (a) be aware that you are doing it, (b) acknowledge it in some way, and (c) try to find a way to put your own spin on it, which is where originality comes in.
- Does it have all necessary score details (tempo indication, dynamics, articulations, phrasing slurs, breathing slurs, bowing slurs, pedal markings, percussion identification chart, percussion beater indications)? Do they make musical sense? Don't put these into the score last, after the piece is otherwise complete; better to put them in as you go, taking your time with them, Doing otherwise causes us to rush through this process, often resulting in score details that make little sense, or are inconsistent, or applied in some sections but not in others.
- Does the score communicate the composer's intentions clearly, or are there confusing or ambiguous aspects? Many composers have had the experience of writing instructions on the score that we thought would be clear to the performer(s), only to find out that they are not, and the performer interprets our score in a way we had not foreseen, and in a way we do not like. In a professional situation, where performers are paid by the hour, clarifying your instructions/intentions can be expensive, which in turn can lead to the organization that programmed your music being disinclined to programme it again in the future (unless you become a celebrity, which in our society allows you to get away with bad behaviour!). It can also cause performers to lose confidence in you as a composer ("I have no idea what this composer wants here! S/he clearly has no idea of what they are doing!"). Sad to say, this is an attitude most composers have probably encountered and have had to overcome at some point in their careers.
- Is it written idiomatically, meaning does it sit well for the instrument(s) or voice(s) used in the score? A passage may be idiomatic but still difficult; if it is difficult, is there a good reason for it? Most good performers do not shy away from learning difficult passages, but they can become frustrated if they spend a lot of time working on a passage, only to learn at the first rehearsal that their part is buried in the middle of a thick texture that no one can hear.
Sometimes we have difficulty articulating a criticism in a focussed way. We may need to hear the piece again (and again) in order to formulate a well-articulated suggestion. But if this isn't possible — and in our composition class it often isn't, because there are many students' works we need to listen to every class — then you could say something like, "around the top of page two, there was something that I wasn't sure about, but I'm not exactly sure what it was… Do you know what I mean?" If the answer is no, perhaps someone else from the class will jump in and say, "yeah, I wondered about that too; I think it may be that the mood suddenly changes there," or some similar, more specific comment. This occurs a lot in our class, in my experience.
If you have a constructive critique to make — meaning a specific concern, idea, or reaction to the music — take comfort in knowing that the recipient (a) is probably, like you, hoping to hear honest reactions to their music, and (b) does not need to act on any of the opinions expressed about their music; you are just suggesting things for them to think about, some of which may help make their composition stronger.
When receiving feedback, try to:
- Understand it. If you do not, feel free to say, "I'm not sure I understand; could you clarify?" Or, "Do you mean the top of page 2? I wasn't sure about that section either, but didn't know what to do there." Or, "You are suggesting I burn my score and take up something useful in life, such as a training programme to become a WallMart greeter (or Costco shopping-cart wrangler, or elevator operator in an ancient building that still uses such people, etc.). Is that about it?" This last one works particularly well with a touch of frost in your voice.
- Communicate that you welcome feedback. On rare occasions in the past, a student has responded to comments in what seemed like a defensive way (or they have not responded at all; no acknowledgement, no disagreement, and no indication that the comment was heard, let alone understood… basically, non-response as a form of passive aggression; read all about it here), which has created an awkward atmosphere that quickly shut the door to further comments from classmates.
- Take notes on the suggestions. Sometimes a comment can seem rather lame at the time, but later, upon further reflection, it might begin to make more sense… Try to keep track of all comments made, both as a way of acknowledging them (which shows your willingness to hear what others have to say), and as a way of acting on them later if you so choose.
- Feel free to disagree. All that is asked of you is that you understand and consider what others have to say, but there is no expectation that you will necessarily agree with their comments. Here's an example: "I agree that this opening idea is very short, and that we don't hear it again, but my plan is to come back to it later and extend it into a much bigger section." Or, "yes, the texture is very busy and confused, but my plan is to gradually make it clearer in this next section." Or even, "But there is a musical climax! It's here!" (while gesticulating wildly in the general direction of its location on your score). However, know that disagreeing too much can come across as defensiveness on your part, which in turn can discourage others from sharing honest reactions to your music with you. Always remember that it takes more courage to make a constructively-critical comment than it does to make a non-specific, "that was GREAT" kind of comment, and try to encourage others to be completely honest in expressing their reactions to your music; if you are seen as being defensive, you are unlikely to get many honest reactions to your music that could help you make it better.
There is a fine line between having the courage of one's convictions, and being so stubborn that you signal an unwillingness to consider opinions that are counter to your own.
If we receive feedback in the spirit in which it is given, it can help us to improve our music.
I'm evidently repeating myself; here's what I wrote on this topic quite a while ago (my second-ever blog entry, in fact!):
Invite criticism from others.
• While it is true that most of us need occasional encouragement in order to go on, we also need honest and constructive feedback from others if we are to grow as artists. The reason for this is that the creation of art is an inherently subjective process, but art itself generally has a communicative (or at least affective) function; in order to learn what effect our art has on others, we need people to tell us their thoughts and reactions to it. Invite criticism from friends and family, of course, but also from people you do not know as well — It is sometimes easier for a stranger to be honest with you than a friend. (Why is that?)
→ Links to Blogs on Originality and Art ←
(Somewhat) Related: Group Composition Lessons; Pros and Cons
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