Sunday, February 24, 2019

The "get it done" league

One of my favourite sports quotes comes from Josh Donaldson, formerly of the Toronto Blue Jays, who, following a frustrating loss on May 16, 2015, said:
"This isn't the "try" league, this is the "get it done" league. And you know, eventually they're gonna find people who are going to get it done."
These are unsettling words, especially to anyone who isn't getting "it" (their job) done, but Mr. Donaldson was, I believe, correct.
In major league baseball, or the highest-level of any profession, if you aren't "getting it done" – i.e., if you aren't doing your job at a satisfactory level – you will likely be demoted to the minor leagues (or equivalent thereof), or even out of a job entirely, irrespective of how hard you were trying.
The "try" league refers to people who are not getting it done, but claim to be trying very hard (and perhaps they do try very hard!). I obviously can't claim to know exactly what Donaldson meant by this quote, but I think that his point was that the amount of effort you put into doing your job, or accomplishing a task of any kind, is irrelevant if you aren't succeeding. The only thing that matters is results, at least at the highest level of sports (and probably other professions as well). Saying you are trying hard when you are not producing the results expected of you can sound like an excuse.

Strangely enough, Donaldson's words are somewhat similar to something said by Yoda, in Star Wars, Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back:

"Try not. Do… or do not. There is no try."

As it turned out, both Josh and the Blue Jays did indeed get it done that year – Mr. Donaldson, perhaps channelling his inner Yoda, won the American League Most Valuable Player award, and his team came first in the American League East Division for the first time in twenty-two years.

Today's post will explore the relevance of this idea to composition, and more specifically:

• Does the idea of "get it done, or we'll find someone else to get it done for you!" apply to the world of professionalism composition? 

• Does it apply to compositional training?

• Does the effort we put into a task matter if we aren't getting it done?



The answer to the first question, is, in a word, yes. If you are a professional composer and not getting it done – i.e., not finishing compositions by deadlines, or perhaps not finishing them at all, or meeting a deadline but not producing the kind of piece you were commissioned to write, or the kind of music that the movie needs, in the case of a film composer, you will not last long in the profession.

It's not a completely Draconian world out there – if you have built a good reputation by consistently delivering high-quality compositions on time for years, being a day or two late with a project will probably not derail your career. But if you are late multiple times, then much of the good reputation you spent years earning will likely erode, which will eventually lead to fewer opportunities, and eventually, no opportunities at all.

So, yes, professional composers do need to find a way to "get it done," no matter how challenging this may be, or what their personal struggles might be.



If you are in the process of developing your compositional skills, however, different rules apply, at least to some extent. You are basically in the  "learning how to get it done" league, which is hopefully more forgiving, unless you find yourself in the kind of vicious and heartless music school depicted in Whiplash, the 2014 film about the relationship between an ambitious jazz drumming student and a sadistic and abusive instructor.

Luckily, most music instructors are nurturing and genuinely care about the musical development of their students, at least in my experience, although I have had a few notable exceptions as teachers along the way.

At our university, and at many others, students who are unable to accomplish tasks due to personal struggles of any kind can request accommodations to avoid academic penalties. Valid excuses do matter, and are taken into consideration. The same may be true in many other professional environments as well.

But, even in the training process for aspiring composers, there are aspects of the "get it done" league that apply, such as:
  1. Finishing a composition.
  2. Doing the above by a deadline.
  3. Doing the above, and being satisfied that the composition is as good as you can make it in your current stage of development, and given your time constraints.
  4. Doing the above, and making sure that all score details and other matters of score presentation are logical, musical, clear, and as unambiguous as possible; also, doing the same for parts.
  5. Doing the above, and getting the score and parts to performers in plenty of time for them to learn it, assuming you want it to be performed in an upcoming concert. 
  6. Doing the above, plus doing whatever it takes to address any concerns the performers (or commissioner) have, including modifying sections of the score if necessary. This is something I plan on writing a post about in the near future, by the way.


At times I have taken an absurd amount of time – in some cases, weeks – working and reworking the ending of a composition. The objective is always the same – come up with an ending that works best for that particular piece – because I never want people to think, after hearing my composition, what the hell just happened there at the end? It was all going pretty well up to the last minute or so! Or, perhaps more importantly, I don't want to think such thoughts when I hear my own piece in a concert.

There is plenty of justification for taking the time necessary to "get it right," not just in the ending, but in every section of your composition (I guess, if you want to keep using sports slogans, we can call this the "get it right" league), but, most of the time, composers face the challenge of both finding a way to both get it done, and get it right by a deadline.
Sometimes, however, the "get it right" part may need to be slightly compromised in order to meet a deadline.
Put another way, we always want to get it right, but getting it right should never trump the objective of finishing by our deadline.

Why? There are many possible negative outcomes that may result if you "get it right" but miss your deadline, such as:
  1. The performers may not play your piece. This may not seem very likely, especially if the performers are friends, but, not only can it happen, I have personally experienced this, and I know of others who have as well. And it can be devastating.
  2. The performers may resent you, justifiably, for not giving them sufficient time to learn the piece well, which in turn can make them disinclined to ever play a piece of yours again.
  3. Your reputation will probably take a hit, particularly if writing for professionals.
  4. If it is a commission and you signed a contract to deliver the music by a certain date, you may not get paid (!).
Developing the habit of finishing by a deadline is, I would therefore suggest, essential for composers, even in the training stages of our development.

If you are experiencing angst because, in order to finish by a deadline, the ending or another section is not as good as you would like, I feel your pain, but perhaps you can take comfort in this thought:
You can make further changes to the composition after the first performance, but, if you miss your deadline, the piece may not get a first performance, at least not by the musicians originally scheduled to perform it.

If you can find/create an opportunity for a second performance (which itself can be a challenge), aim to make that version of the piece the one with which you are fully satisfied.

When faced with a deadline, try to channel your inner Josh Donaldson, your inner Yoda, or, if you prefer, your inner Queen Elsa from Frozen (!), and let it go. (Sorry ☺️; I will herewith stop the slogans and catch-phrases, I promise!).

If, in order to meet a deadline, you had to "let it go" before reaching a point of complete satisfaction with your composition, just remember that you can get it back after the premiere and revise it further, if you wish.


Incidentally, I have no idea who first used the term "let it go" in a song, but a long time before 2013's Frozen, in 1980, John Lennon wrote I just had to let it go in a song called Watching the Wheels. The concept itself goes back millennia, and is associated with Buddhism, among other faith/philosophical traditions.

Monday, February 18, 2019

Henryk Górecki: Three Pieces in Old Style

Another Górecki piece (with scrolling score), quite different in character from the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. Here's the write-up of this piece posted at the publisher's website:
Three Pieces in the Old Style were written in 1963, in answer to a friendly accusation on the part of Tadeusz Ochlewski, then director of PWM Edition, who stated that Górecki's works were lacking in melody. Work on the new composition lasted from 28 November to 23 December 1963, and its premiere took place on 30 April 1964 in Warsaw. 
This work was a sort of novelty - for here in the art of a young composer who had already openly declared himself as supporter of the avant-garde, there suddenly appeared three miniature pieces combined in one small cycle, characterized by a very strong reference to the style of Renaissance music. The composer himself mentioned years later that they had been an antidote for him, an attempt to go beyond the aesthetic of sonorism and post-serialism flourishing at the time. 
Written for string orchestra, this little work encompasses three segments, maintained in different tempi and differing in character. The outer movements of the cycle, reminiscent of lively dances, surround the nostalgic second piece. About this piece, Tadeusz Zieliński wrote in 1975: The purposefully simple, but at the same time tasteful dosage of purely sonorist values of string sound, variation and contrast in its density and dynamics, lead us to the very essence of Góreckis individual style. These pieces represent a modest (as it were, simplified, adapted to the archaic theme), but effective and charming sample of this style and the typical aesthetic-technical issues of their creator. 
Duration: 10 minutes

Monday, January 14, 2019

Blog Index — Organized by Topic (®Jan/2019)

A list of most of the blog entries posted so far, organized loosely by topic.

This is not completely comprehensive; entries relating to class business – reminders of deadlines, concert congratulations, order of class presentation, etc. – are not included.

→ Exploring the Creative Process; Struggles and Solutions ←
Strike While the Iron is Hot! (includes section on "writer's block")

→ Planning ←

→ Playing With Expectations; Musical Dichotomies ←

→ Composition Techniques 

→ Form in Post-Tonal Music ←

→ Atonality; What's in a Name? ←


→ Winning and Losing; Judging and Being Judged; Reference Letter Do's and Don'ts ←

→ Audience Response to Contemporary Classical Music and Marketing ←

→ Composition Issues (10-part series that started this blog) ←
1.1. The quality of ideas may not matter very much in assessing compositions that emerge from them; and
1.2. The degree to which these ideas are original may not matter very much.
2.1. Study the music of others.
2.2. Compose as much as you can.
2.3. Invite criticism from others.
3.1. Live with it for a while.
3.2. What is it about?
3.3. Does it change character?
3.4. What is its function within the context of the piece?
3.5. Structural Analysis.
3.6. Harmonic (or Pitch, Scale, etc.) Analysis.
7.1. Less is more / More is more
7.2. Always leave them wanting more / Give them what they want
7.3. Don't treat the listener like an idiot / There's a sucker born every minute
7.4. There can be too much of a good thing / If you have a good idea, then stick with it!
7.5. The George Costanza approach.
8.1. Three models for the role of a composer
8.2. Mastery or Mystery?
8.3. The value of a plan
8.4. Getting stuck, and possible workarounds
8.5. Don't obsess
8.6. Challenges = Opportunities

→ Composition Projects ←

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Sacred Minimalism (2): Henryk Górecki, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs

Last week I wrote about one of the most popular works written in the last fifty yearsFratres, by Arvo Pärt – and a compositional approach/ideology that is known by many names, two of which are Sacred Minimalism, and Holy Minimalism.

Henryk Górecki (1933-2010) was another composer associated with this movement, and he wrote what is without any doubt the most popular classical composition of the past 50 years: Symphony No. 3, known as the "Symphony of Sorrowful Songs" (1976; just one year prior to Pärt's Fratres).

How popular did it become? Consider this:
  • It became a "smash hit" in 1992 when it was released on the Elektra-Nonsuch label, featuring soprano soloist Dawn Upshaw and the London Sinfonietta, conducted by David Zinman; this recording has sold over a million copies to date;
  • This recording reached number 6 on the mainstream UK album charts (note: these are the pop music charts, not classical);
  • It reached number 1 on the US classical charts, and stayed there for 38 weeks;
  • It remained on the US classical charts for 138 weeks
  • Wikipedia reports that "it probably counts as the best selling contemporary classical record of all time."
All of these achievements pertain to just one recording, but it has also been released on many other discs; it would not surprise me if the overall number – the one that includes ALL recordings sold of this work – is in the neighbourhood of 1.5 million, but this is just a wild guess on my part.

I don't know of any analysis that explains why this work became so popular, and I'm not sure that such an analysis is even possible. The reasons behind anything going viral to this degree are a combination of things you can analyze (e.g., "it's a beautiful work;" see more listed below), and momentum, like a snowball rolling down a hill becoming increasingly bigger, to the point where it can wipe out anything in its path.

But at least some of the reasons for its popularity may be:
  1.  The work really is very beautiful – the harmony is always tonal/modal, albeit with lots of "blurring" (sustained notes, layered on top of one another) – so listeners unfamiliar with classical music (and those that are) are not hearing anything that might come as a sonic shock to them;
  2.  It has a calm, soothing quality, for the most part – a quality associated with other works in the "Sacred Minimalism" style (including last week's example, "Fratres");
  3.  Being a type of minimalism, there is lots of repetition, but nowhere near to the degree you find in pulsed minimalist works by, say, Steven Reich, or in static minimalist works by Morton Feldman (although, there are elements of stasis in Górecki's piece as well);
  4.  The text is about things that anyone with any degree of empathy in their makeup can relate to; it consists of three laments, told from the perspective of a mother grieving dying (in the first movement) or dead (in the third movement) son, or, in the second movement, told from the perspective of an 18-year old girl imprisoned in a gestapo prison in 1944, and later killed. The text is below.
First Movement
My son, my chosen and beloved
Share your wounds with your mother
And because, dear son, I have always carried you in my heart,
And always served you faithfully
Speak to your mother, to make her happy,
Although you are already leaving me, my cherished hope.

(Lamentation of the Holy Cross Monastery from the "Lysagóra Songs" collection. Second half of the 15th century)

Second Movement
No, Mother, do not weep,
Most chaste Queen of Heaven
Support me always.
"Zdrowas Mario."
(*)
(Prayer inscribed on wall 3 of cell no. 3 in the basement of "Palace," the Gestapo's headquarters in Zadopane; beneath is the signature of Helena Wanda Blazusiakówna, and the words "18 years old, imprisoned since 26 September 1944.")
(*) "Zdrowas Mario" (Ave Maria)—the opening of the Polish prayer to the Holy Mother
Third Movement
Where has he gone
My dearest son?
Perhaps during the uprising
The cruel enemy killed him

Ah, you bad people
In the name of God, the most Holy,
Tell me, why did you kill
My son?
Never again
Will I have his support
Even if I cry
My old eyes out

Were my bitter tears
to create another River Oder
They would not restore to life
My son

He lies in his grave
and I know not where
Though I keep asking people
Everywhere

Perhaps the poor child
Lies in a rough ditch
and instead he could have been
lying in his warm bed

Oh, sing for him
God's little song-birds
Since his mother
Cannot find him

And you, God's little flowers
May you blossom all around
So that my son
May sleep happily
(Folk song in the dialect of the Opole region)
It is a very long piece –54 minutes – so be prepared; it gets off to a very slow and quiet start, so quiet that, if you are listening to this through your computer speakers, it is very difficult to hear anything for the first few minutes. For this reason, I have the video below cued to start shortly before the soprano enters, but obviously you should feel free to go back to the start of the piece and listen to the whole thing if you wish.

Its length, stasis, and repetitiveness have led some to wonder how many of the people who bought this disc actually listened to the whole thing, and, for those that did, how many listened to it more than once (this question is referenced in the Wikipedia article).

As always, share any thoughts you may have in the comments section below.

Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Sacred Minimalism (1): Fratres, Arvo Pärt, and "Tintinnabuli"

If this interests you, consider checking out three other blog posts on this topic:

Sacred Minimalism (2): Henryk Górecki, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs
Sacred Minimalism (3): John Tavener
Henryk Górecki, Three Pieces in Old Style



There's a pretty good chance you've heard Fratres (1977) by Arvo Pärt, because it's a hugely popular piece. There are many different versions of it, because it was written with no specific instrumentation. It has been described as a “mesmerising set of variations on a six-bar theme combining frantic activity and sublime stillness that encapsulates Pärt’s observation that ‘the instant and eternity are struggling within us.’” (Wikipedia)

Pärt considered this to be an example of a compositional style he called "Tintinnabuli" (which in Latin means "bells") described as follows by Wikipedia:
"This simple style was influenced by the composer's mystical experiences with chant music. Musically, Pärt's tintinnabular music is characterized by two types of voice, the first of which (dubbed the "tintinnabular voice") arpeggiates the tonic triad, and the second of which moves diatonically in stepwise motion. The works often have a slow and meditative tempo, and a minimalist approach to both notation and performance. Pärt's compositional approach has expanded somewhat in the years since 1970, but the overall effect remains largely the same."
Have a listen, and please share any reactions you may have in the comments section below:.



Pärt's music is considered by some be exemplify a post-1970 movement in composition called "Holy Minimalism," also known as "Mystic Minimalism," "Spiritual Minimalism," or "Sacred Minimalism." Here's how this is described in Wikipedia:
"With the growing popularity of minimalist music in the 1960s and 1970s, which often broke sharply with prevailing musical aesthetics of serialism and aleatoric music, many composers, building on the work of such minimalists as Terry Riley, Philip Glass and Steve Reich, began to work with more traditional notions of simple melody and harmony in a radically simplified framework. This transition was seen variously as an aspect of musical post-modernism or as neo-romanticism, that is a return to the lyricism of the nineteenth century.

"In the 1970s and continuing in the 1980s and 1990s, several composers, many of whom had previously worked in serial or experimental milieux, began working with similar aesthetic ideals[3] – radically simplified compositional materials, a strong foundation in tonality or modality, and the use of simple, repetitive melodies – but included with them an explicitly religious orientation. Many of these composers looked to Renaissance or medieval music for inspiration, or to the liturgical music of the Orthodox Churches, some of which employ only a cappella in their services. Examples include Arvo Pärt (an Estonian Orthodox), John Tavener (a British composer who converted to Greek Orthodoxy), Henryk Górecki (a Polish Catholic), Alan Hovhaness (the earliest mystic minimalist), Sofia GubaidulinaGiya KancheliHans OttePēteris Vasks and Vladimír Godár.

"Despite being grouped together, the composers tend to dislike the term, and are by no means a "school" of close-knit associates. Their widely differing nationalities, religious backgrounds, and compositional inspirations make the term problematic, but it is nonetheless in widespread use, sometimes critically, among musicologists and music critics, primarily because of the lack of a better term."
Check out some of these composers' music, and share any suggestions you may have for pieces to listen to in the comments section below!

In the mean-time, here's another beautiful work by Pärt: Spiegel im Spiegel (1978). Here's the Wikipedia write-up for this piece:
"Spiegel im Spiegel in German literally can mean both  "mirror in the mirror" as well as "mirrors in the mirror", referring to an infinity mirror, which produces an infinity of images reflected by parallel plane mirrors: the tonic triads are endlessly repeated with small variations as if reflected back and forth. The structure of melody is made by couple of phrases characterized by the alternation between ascending and descending movement with the fulcrum on the note A. This, with also the overturning of the final intervals between adjacent phrases (for example, ascending sixth in the question - descending sixth in the answer), contribute to give the impression of a figure reflecting on a mirror and walking back and towards it."