Sunday, July 26, 2009

Conducting Nature

Following up on the last post, I've been thinking about several things that I'll try to at least touch upon.

First off is the issue of adapting trance or trance-like elements to a classical music setting. The reverse has been done many times, quite successfully I might add. In fact, classical music has been adapted to or sampled in just about every kind of music, and when it is done competently it works. 

Why then, does it seem that when other styles of music are performed "in a classical style" they seem to fall quite short of the mark? How many times I've heard "the Beatles for orchestra" or "such-and-such a band in the style of Mozart," and it never works for me. It sounds contrived. It sounds like a square peg trying to be forced into a triangular slot. If I hear one more person ask me if I've heard Metallica play with an orchestra...I'm sorry, but it does not sound quite right. The thing about setting rock music to an orchestral setting is that (a) the music was not originally conceived with an orchestra in mind and (b) the original music lacks a certain "compatiblility." The second point is a more subjective one, yes, but I feel it's true. Metallica is really playing with an orchestra. There is no sense of fusion. Rock/metal/pop can be combined with an orchestra, but the piece has to allow room for the sounds of the orchestra. Otherwise you're just writing a song and trying to cram 52 extra pieces in afterwards.

So, is classical music the problem then? Is it not "adaptable" or "flexible?" Can it not accomodate other sounds and styles? I hope this is not the case, for it would just prove further that there is a rift between the two worlds. But the problem for me is that it can work one way, but does not seem to be quite as successful the other way. Specifically regarding trance elements in classical music: I think it's possible, under certain circumstances. Trance is often conceived on a large scale, with very gradual development. Single pieces are usually upwards of six minutes long, trance compilations span two full compact discs and concerts will last five or more hours. A symphony could be compared to a compilation disc. While the symphony may only have three movements to the disc's 14 tracks, and the symphony will draw on only a few contained themes compared to the contrasting tracks on the disc, I think they share in their development of moods and ideas. So with regards to the music itself, there is no reason it couldn't be played by an orchestra.

However, I see several problems arising. How closely does one follow the adaptation? For instance, an orchestra cannot produce electronic sounds (assuming a live setting using only acoustic instruments) which is a trademark of trance, dance and electronica. Nevertheless, if you try to put together a trance track piece by piece in an orchestra as you would in a studio, that's where I think you fall short. Then you're trying to recreate instead of adapt. If you want to recreate, use the original materials and means. Still, one has to question how effective a translation can be without some of the most important original elements--which also includes the thumping bass beats. Do they stay? One of Glenn Gould's problems with rock music is that it has an unchanging tempo. There's no room for it to breathe, he said. I can only imagine what kind of a reaction he would have had to five hours of constant pulsing.

There is also the issue of mood and setting. Going to a trance show is an experience wholly separate from a classical music concert. Part of the experience of trance is movement. It's about getting out on the floor and dancing and not just enjoying the music aurally, but feeling it. Could an orchestral setting capture this? Not the whole thing, no. I think you could apply trance elements if you were clever about it, but trying to recreate the whole of it would leave you feeling like something is missing.

That brings me to the next issue. Regarding the setting I presented in my last post (about jogging), I don't think you can recreate that in music. At least, it would be pointless to. Suppose I found some way to organise and notate it such that I had four distinct sections that were reproducing the proper rhythms of the music, my heart, my breathing and my footsteps. What then? Would I actually try to mimic the original sounds? Or would I attempt musical interpretations of them? That seems unnatural. And I think that's where music that attempts to capture the sounds of nature does not succeed. Writing a piece with birds singing and leaves rustling in the wind is as futile as going out into the forest and asking the elements to work with you--could the birds be a little louder?, and would that dog stop barking for just a moment?, and why is it raining today?

Saturday, July 18, 2009

One rainy morning

I was rather taken by the extra-ordinary (and yet natural) music that took place whilst jogging this morning. Rather unwittingly I had created an extremely complex layering of rhythms and metres. And, somehow, they did not interfere with one another or create harsh contradictions.

First was the obvious music. The constant flowing pulse of the trance that I was plugged into, with its steady thumping bass beat and unchanging tempo. Within this itself there were already layers.

Next was my heart. Not always noticeable, but pounding more and more in my ears as my speed increased and my heart rate went up. More or less steady, but without the exactness of the bass drum. Not only was it moving to a different beat, but it pulsed with a sort of ta-dum, ta-dum against the trance’s single beat.

The crunching gravel beneath my feet set up another more audible layer—audible like the music, but also physical like my heart. It too created a new a rhythm tch-ka, tch-ka, tch-ka, tch-ka, as each foot made contact and then moved the earth beneath me before leaving, only to be replaced in time with the next foot. Again, my feet moved independently of the others.

Finally came my breath. By far the slowest of the four, both physical and audible as with my feet, but less percussive than the others. A certain sharpness to the initial intake and exhale, but otherwise soft and smooth.

By traditional standards, they were not in concert, but somehow, all working together. Changing one would affect the others. Strangely, I was not bothered by this apparent lack of unity. Only when I concentrated on their differences did I notice and feel like I was being torn in all directions. If I tried to think about my breathing it would throw off my step. If I attempted to match my step to the pulse of the trance, my breath would have to be adjusted. But left alone they worked together quite nicely.

I have found trance to be the best kind of music to exercise to. If I were to listen to another album with tracks of varying tempi, I find my other rhythms are disturbed. Adjustments have to be made and the energy does not flow consistently or smoothly.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Quartetting 'till the End of Time

This last piece was a real struggle at times, but other times came quite easily to me. The intention was to write three or four preludes for piano quartet, but after presenting a couple of them in class, it became obvious that I just needed to focus on one and expand it more.

I actually ended up using all of the original material, and even the last section that I added was reminiscent of other sections. It seemed that pretty much every time I presented in class this semester there was the comment "expand on this." "Develop this more." I still question how much I should use an idea and--more importantly--how I develop an idea. I took a page from Sibelius' book and developed ideas toward their final presentation (rather than presenting an idea and then developing it). This leads to a lot of deceptive movement and interrupted segments, which somehow works in the end. I think the piano tied everything together with its underlying movement. I'm happy with how it turned out.

Now, let's see what the summer brings.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

On melody

What is melody? What makes melody? And how does one write melody? Does melody exist on its own, wholly independent? Does it merely coincide with the music around it, does it co-exist with the music, or is it derived from it (or vice versa)? What is the music without melody? How does one differentiate good melody from bad melody? Is there a distinction between melody in counterpoint, melody with harmony and melody alone? Do we differentiate the following: fugue subject, counterpoint entrance, aria, sonata theme group? Can we? Would we want to? Does there exist something in the absence of melody? In answering these questions, what can we say then about countermelody?

In a line, how does one emphasise the tonic? Traditionally we have used repetition of the tonic; leading tone resolving to tonic (or subtonic to tonic modally); the dominant scale degree falling or rising to the tonic. We can also rest on the tonic, mediant or dominant to imply a tonic resting point. What then of the supertonic, subdominant and submediant? Is there use of altered scale degrees to put emphasis on the tonic? Should tonic emphasis be the main focus of a line?

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Re: Allowing your musical ideas to achieve their full potential

I started out writing a reply to the blog entry on the main page, but it turned into a bit of a rant, I guess, so I decided to run with it an post it as full entry on its own. Here it is:

It's strange--I have two completely different mindsets and methodologies when I'm composing "art music" versus "popular music" (I strongly dislike those terms, but it gets my point across). With the latter I have no problem repeating ideas and figurations. If I have a cool countermelody that goes on behind the vocal or main guitar/keyboard line, I'm eager to reuse it and let it go on at length. I'll bring back a chorus three times if I think it's good enough. But with the former kind of music I feel pressured to keep changing things. Why? I'm not really sure. I have to force myself to develop some ideas, convincing myself that people aren't going to be bored hearing it the second time around. Though, in both styles I'm still driven by the fear of sitting on one chord for too long (though I'm getting a little better and allowing passages of harmonic stasis). More than just worrying about whether an idea has reached its full potential (as Kim mentions), I worry about whether I should even be using my ideas. Sometimes I come up with an idea that I'm so attached to, I don't want to use it until I can write the perfect context for it to fit in. Two reasons why: the insecurity of not coming up with as good an idea again; and not wanting it to stand out against surrounding ideas that maybe aren't as good. 

Guess it all boils down to insecurity, doesn't it? It's really tough to separate ourselves from our pieces--because that's like tearing ourselves apart. Then we have to rely on our limited scope of objectivity without totally rejecting the subjective. Examining it pragmatically versus viscerally.

We also have the option of relying on an outside source of opinion. Even this presents a fair share of problems. Even if we accept external opinions, we will still weigh it against our own two views. For instance, take the following three scenarios, provided that your subjective view is that your idea is good.
-If the External matches your Objective, but disagrees with your Subjective you face your original dilemma--though possibly in a more balanced manner depending on how committed you are to it.
-If the External disagrees with your Objective, but matches your Subjective (this may seem slightly odd), it's further reinforcement.
-If the External coincides with your Objective, which also matches your Subjective, you've probably hit the spot.

There are many other situations which would arise if you feel that your idea isn't any good but think people would like it. And of course all kinds of other results depending on the circumstances.

I definitely didn't answer any questions, and have probably created a whole new level of questions, but it was good to see the questions out there in the first place and see how other people react to the same dilemma.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Finally settled?

Well, you can't say I wasn't ambitious. I initially envisioned a symphony orchestra, and then a modified chamber orchestra, but my time draws nigh, and with more than just composition on my plate I realise that it just won't be practical at this point. I really liked some of the ideas I had and I would like to come back to them in the future, but four weeks is just four weeks.

I've decided to try my hand at piano quartet. Nothing concrete yet, but I have visions of a short prelude and an adagio. If I can at least get the slow movement done for this project that should be enough. Now it's time to sit down and start working out some theme groups and how to organise the instruments. Let's see what comes out by Friday!

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Fast Forward

What a great concert. I'm really impressed with everyone's work, both from the composers and performers. There was a lot of variety and I really enjoyed myself. Good job everyone!

I've been slowly working on the next project. With so little time left it's a little daunting, but I really would like to write for orchestra. I have a few thoughts in mind already. I'd like to write in (modified) sonata form. Instead of jumping in headfirst, as I think I did last time, I'm taking a more sectional approach with this one. I'm coming up with theme/theme groups first so that I know how the piece will move from the beginning to the end, and then I will develop those ideas to create all the intermediary steps.

I've already sketched out a preliminary theme 1. For my second theme group I want the melodies to be based on the traditional pentatonic scale used in Okinawa--do mi fa so ti do. I've played around with it before and it's a very neat scale. I've been listening to some traditional Okinawan music to see how it works (the melody, that is--I will probably invent my own harmonies), what kinds of rhythms they use, as well as use of percussion, if I can fit it in.

It all sounds rather ambitious, I know, which is why I will try to get the theme groups ready as soon as possible and start looking at instrumentation. If I don't have that moving relatively soon, then I might keep the same ideas/structure and look at perhaps using a smaller ensemble.