Showing posts with label new music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new music. Show all posts

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Newfound Music Festival starts today!

Newfound Music Festival!

Today is the day classes are cancelled, replaced by a day-long slate of seminars, colloquia, performances, etc., all relating to new and recent music.  Please check schedules posted around the building to see what's going on, and post any comments / thoughts / reactions you have about the festival on this blog entry.

Our special guest, John Beckwith, will start things with a keynote address at 9AM in PC Hall.  If you are interested in composition (and hopefully you are, if you are reading this blog!), you will not want to miss this.  He has had a long and brilliant career as a composer, musicologist, professor, administrator (former Dean of the Faculty of Music, University of Toronto), and CBC scriptwriter/programmer.  And, for five years, he was also my composition teacher at the University of Toronto.

I will be talking about my composition, Dream Dance, at 12:30 in PC Hall, in a talk called "Playing With Expectations."  I have spent approximately 20 hours on the PowerPoint for this, and hopefully you will find it an interesting and fun presentation.

And I'll be doing another talk on The Beatles at 3:30.  Time spent preparing PowerPoint presentation for this: Approximately 50 hours.  Yes, I am insane.  But you probably knew that…

There will be 8 PM concerts tonight (music by two very talented former students, Kim Codner and Aiden Hartery, an ensemble improv led by Paul Bendzsa, and some pieces of mine that span a 20-year period), tomorrow (an entire programme of John Beckwith's music), and Saturday (works by a variety of composers).  Saturday's concert will be followed by a trip to Bitter's pub for the premieres of seven newly commissioned 2-minute pieces, called "Pint-Sized Encores."

Please take in as much as you can, and post comments on the festival here!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Judge Me By My Composition, Do You? (Part One)

Today's title is a reference to Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980), in which Yoda famously says, "Judge me by my size, do you? Hmm?"

Indeed, while many would probably agree that it is unfair to judge people by their size, and as Star Wars viewers knew, Yoda's mastery of The Force meant it was clearly a mistake to dismiss him based on his extraordinarily-diminutive stature (not to mention his peculiar sentence constructions), it seems to be a fairly common practice in the world.   Basketball and North American football coaches routinely consider size when choosing players for their teams, although they presumably take other factors into consideration as well, such as speed, and sport-specific skills.  According to some studies, in American presidential elections, "candidates that were taller than their opponents [usually] received more popular votes."  Other studies have suggested it is a factor in mate selection, and advancement in the corporate world.

Judging people based on their height is clearly unjustified in most instances (even in sports there are numerous examples of great athletes that happen to be shorter than average), but judging people based on other factors is a frequent practice that can often be justified.  Picking the best candidate for a particular job entails evaluating numerous factors specific to the execution of that job.  Selecting the best university for you, choosing friends, clothes, books to read, and music to hear — these all involve an evaluation process of some kind, even if we are not consciously aware of it.

In music, we routinely make judgements.  We do this if we prefer one performer's recording of Beethoven over another's.  Some people love Bob Dylan's voice; some people can't stand it.  I recently met someone who claimed to dislike all songs by Paul McCartney, but many regard him as the most successful songwriter in history (Google "the most successful songwriter in history" and see what you get).  I have participated in numerous performance "juries" wherein a panel of faculty members assess student performances, but I have always been aware that there is some subjectivity involved in giving a fair and balanced assessment of what I heard.  Different people can evaluate the same performance in slightly (or sometimes greatly) differing ways.

That said, I suspect that evaluating a performance of a two-century-old sonata by Beethoven is a more objective exercise than evaluating a brand new composition.  People familiar with a particular work notice immediately if wrong notes are played, and judge the performance to be flawed, even if it was otherwise very musical.  A performance lacking in "feeling" or "expression" — which may mean that the performance lacks dynamic nuances, subtle tempo alterations such as rubato or rallentandi, or the shaping of phrases — is usually judged to be weaker than a performance with these qualities, although too much of them may be said to be "in poor taste."  But how does a listener judge the performance of a new composition?  How does the listener of a new work know which are the right notes, and which are wrong?

The question is rhetorical; if the listener is unfamiliar with the work, they can't know.  However, the listener may be able to guess that some notes don't seem right based on an understanding of a composer's style, or even based on inconsistencies within a work.

How does a composer know which notes to use, and when to use them?  We make thousands of decisions during the composition process, and we don't always know why we make some choices and reject others, beyond liking or disliking them.  One way to justify compositional choices is to adopt a systematic approach, such as motivic unity, motivic expansion, using existing forms (such as sonata), any of various "-isms" (serialism, spectralism, minimalism), tonality, free atonality, polychords, or any of Messiaen's techniques such as modes of limited transposition, non-retrogradable rhythm, and added-value rhythms.

But whether you adopt a more-systematic or less-systematic approach, all of these approaches involve choices, or judgements, and good composers presumably make better choices than less-good composers.  The composition process involves continually evaluating the music we write, ideally until we reach the point where in our estimation we are unable to make it any better in the time allotted; at this point, the work is done.

To revise or to let it go?
A quick digression:  If we never review and revise the work we do, we are unlikely to write the highest quality music of which we are capable.  If we constantly revise, then the composition will never be finished.  Somewhere between those two extremes is the happy medium that every composer needs to find.  Deadlines help us in finding this happy (or at least practical) medium…
And so, to answer the question posed in the title of this blog, I don't know the degree to which people are, or should be, judged by their compositions; judging a person's compositional abilities based on their compositions seems fair enough, but judging a person's character based on their compositions seems more problematic, although it could be argued that a person's compositions tell us something about that person's character.

In part two, I will suggest twenty specific ways of critiquing compositions, particularly your own.

Monday, August 1, 2011

On the perception of progress

How do you measure progress when composing?  I sometimes set durational goals for myself, like thirty seconds of new music every day. The value of this approach is that it can provide an incentive to create some quantity of new music every day, even if it sometimes feels like you're "churning it out."

But wait!  Is "churning out" some quantity of new music every day a desirable goal?

Let's consider some arguments for and against this approach:

Pro
  1. Writing music every day (or at least most days), is, like practicing your instrument or singing daily, extremely helpful (probably essential) in becoming a skilled composer.  Giving yourself daily duration goals can help motivate you to achieve this.

  2.   Working on your current project daily also keeps it fresh in your mind.  You will likely find that your piece stays in your thoughts when you are not actively engaged in composing.  One value of this is that it allows your subconscious to be involved in your creative process; you may be reading, exercising, or falling asleep, and suddenly get a good idea for your composition because your subconscious is keeping your piece on the "back burner," as it were.  Having your music fresh in your thoughts every day when you sit down to compose also makes the process more efficient; if you are too long away from a project, you may find yourself struggling to remember where you were going with particular musical ideas, or wondering why you wrote what you did. Writing a composition sporadically is possible, but not much fun.

  3.   There is value in being able to compose quickly.  Surprisingly (to me, at least), it doesn't necessarily result in lower-quality writing.  I think we sometimes get too obsessive about small details in our compositions, at the expense of the big picture; this can be fixed by working at a steady (and fairly brisk!) pace. As a general rule, I think it is much more valuable to try to "churn out" music for a period, and then, perhaps when you get stuck, you can go back and work on some finer details such as links, general improvements, and score details. This isn't quite the same as saying, "don't sweat the small stuff," because details are very important in a composition.  Instead, I am suggesting that there is a time to concern yourself with details, and there is a time to concern yourself with the big picture; if you spend too much time on the former, the latter may suffer, and vice-versa.

  4.   If you make a habit of challenging yourself to write music every day, you will find it easier to do so; it can help ease the existential pain that sometimes accompanies composition (see my previous blog entry for more on this topic).  You are also likely to find that you are writing music with which you are satisfied, for the reasons given above.

  5.   If you go on to a career as a composer, there will almost certainly be times when you have to compose quickly in order to meet a deadline.  If you write music for film, television, or commercials, writing good music quickly is a basic requirement; an inability to deliver quality work on time will quickly close the door on future opportunities.  The only way to develop this proficiency this is to spend years challenging yourself to "churn it out" on a regular basis.
Con
  1.   A daily duration goal can be useful, but it can also be counterproductive if (a) you are meeting your goals but writing music with which you are not satisfied, or (b) you are satisfied with the quality of your music, but not meeting your daily durational goal. Both can be discouraging. The most important objective is to be satisfied with the quality of your music, irrespective of how much you compose every day.

  2.   A daily duration goal is not always practical; some sections of a composition require more work than others.  I often find the beginning of a work very slow-going, but once some progress has been made and I am happy with it, things often proceed somewhat more quickly, albeit with slower progress when new challenges arise (which is often).  A particularly thick or complex texture can also slow you down, as can contrapuntal textures, fast tempi, and avoidance of repetition in your music.

  3.   Other aspects of the composition process are as important as writing new sections.  At the top of the list, perhaps, is revision of earlier sections.  Each new day brings fresh perspective to one's music; what seemed like a brilliant idea the night before might seem pretty weak the next day, and if this is the case, revisions are necessary.  For what it's worth, my own approach is to generally start my composition sessions by revising earlier sections, followed by working on new material.  For me, everything is subject to revision until the piece is done, which means I might still be tweaking aspects of the first few pages as I work on the final pages.  

  4.   Likewise, an essential aspect of the composition process is editing your music, which includes adding dynamics, articulations, written instructions, slurs, bowings, etc., and this too takes time, if it is to be done intelligently. In general, I recommend editing your music as you go, more or less, but the way I actually do it is that I compose new music until I get stuck, or feel that a section is relatively complete, at which point I go back and edit/revise/improve earlier music.  I have discovered that sometimes the reason I feel stuck is that aspects of previously-composed music are not sitting well with me, and it can be hard to progress until I fix them.

→ It is important to feel you are making regular progress on your compositions, and one way of doing this is to set achievable goals for yourself every day. These goals can be durational, but they can also relate to other aspects of the composition process as well, such as revisions and editing; you could aim to put in dynamics, phrasing slurs, articulations, bowings, etc., for x many pages or bars, for example.

→ Similarly, your daily or weekly goals can include other tasks that are important for a composer, such as applying for grants, copying (and editing) parts, inviting people to an upcoming concert where your music will be played (using social media and other methods, such as E-mail), making and distributing posters for that concert, and communicating with your performers to ensure that (a) they are prepared to perform your music, (b) they don't have any questions or concerns regarding what you have written thus far, and (c) they know that you welcome their input.

Goals are useful when they help motivate you to achieve something, but counterproductive when they make you feel you have failed if you did not achieve them.  Set modest, achievable goals, and then see how they work out. If they are easily achieved, then slightly increase the difficulty, and vice-versa if they are not. Be flexible; modify short-term goals if necessary in order to better reach a long-term goal. We are all capable of achieving wonderful things, and setting a series of smaller goals can help us get there.