On Experimentalism, pt. 2

In my first post on experimentalism, I examined some issues with the current though process starting to grab hold in academia. At the top of the list was the idea of job preparation and a leaning toward finding answers to classical music's image problems by borrowing from popular music. I argued that this mode of thinking would lead to a stagnation of musical culture, as well as stunt the overall musical growth of students. This week, I look at two ideas of being experimental; the personal level and the universal level.

The personal level is accepting a mode of thinking and acting that revolves around experimentation. This means actively studying new techniques and ideas, being open to ideas from all areas, and entering with a sort of scientific mind-set.

What do I mean by a scientific mind-set? Think of doing experiments in a lab. If a young chemistry student sits down to do his/her first experiment, there are a few things that happen. First the teacher (or adult supervisor) helps the student learn the proper safety procedures and the use of the various equipment needed for the experiment. It wouldn't do much good for a student to start a distillation procedure, but not know how to set-up the Bunsen burner, or connect the glass piping together. After that, students are given the basic instructions on how to proceed. They are not told of exactly what awaits at the end, but instead sent off to do the experiment, write down observations, do calculations as needed, and find an answer.

This is how I approach writing music. Before I write a piece, I set out to learn any techniques needed, in at least a general way. As the piece evolves, I may find I need to work harder on one aspect, take some time to study a certain type of notation, or play around with one small idea for a while to learn it's inner workings. This reminds me of an experiment I did in chemistry long ago when we were doing a distillation experiment. I followed the directions properly for the set-up, but it still took a little fiddling to find the right setting on the burner that would be hot enough but not too hot (and thereby uncontrollable), as well as having to make sure some of the linking in the tubing where completely secure.

I don't start with an ending in mind, instead a general direction or idea. Maybe I want to explore spectralism as a pitch structure, but due to the make-up of the commissioning group, I can't keep the timbre possibilities exact, not can I use the type of rhythmic language usually associated with the movement. So, I explore, play around, find different ways to play with the basic pitch material and overall sonic image from the recording. And out comes a piece that seems more like a funk piece than spectral piece.

I am a composer that is endlessly experimenting. My time in college has been to learn and try as many different types of writing music as I could. This gave some of my teachers fits, as I'd ask about some obscure style of writing music. Other teachers loved my sense of experimentation, always interested to see what would come next--maybe an hour long randomly generated electronic piece, or a fluxus style improvisation piece with trash cans. Recently I've written an algorithmic composition, TDRM, for trombone and percussion. This work is also proportionally notated, meaning that standard rhythms have been removed, instead a general sense of speed is given for the piece, and the rhythms are interpreted by the performers by the proximity of note-heads. There are also graphic representations, extended techniques, and a kazoo. 

 None of the techniques in this piece are brand new--I've invented nothing. The experiment in this case is a personal one. I had never written my own software for determining composition, nor done an entirely proportionally notated score. I had to learn new software, new techniques in software I was already familiar with, and change my entire mode of thinking in the creation of this piece. The experience of the piece will be noticeably different in each performance, and the end results musically would easily be considered to be avant-garde. It most certainly does not fit in with any pervading opinion of music, be it the academic mindset or the populist mindset. The piece is experiment, which may completely fail.

My dissertation is an opera with an original libretto. It has many traditional elements--it is pseudo-through composed, in the sense that the arias don't happen expressly as "stop and sing," but are inherent to the action of the drama. The writing within the opera may be a tick lower on the experimental spectrum than most of my works, but that is due to a different consideration. No, not the consideration of will it be popular, nor accepting that opera houses mostly stage Romantic works, so I should play to that audience. Instead it's due to a musical and dramatic choice that is somewhat unique.

Most operas are written in one main style. Specific styles may change, the inclusion of a dance movement, or a more Romantic turn for a love aria. However, when one listens to a Mozart opera, it is definitely Mozart. The unifying style of an opera by John Adams goes a bit further, with a minimalist attitude permeating the entire score. If the opera is a bel canto opera, all the singers will perform in that style. If it's more of a musical theater style, all performers will perform that style.

My opera takes the dramatic idea of characterization to the music. Characters speak with distinct voices in plays. Dialogue is written to differentiate the characters from one another. However, it seems that most music is written in a more homogeneous style. Yes, the voice types will differ, and the best opera composers used pitch and rhythm cleverly to delineate characters. I'm taking a more novel approach of each character operating in a particular style--this means that the punk singer will not be singing bel canto, but screaming, and the music backing him will be a punk band. Another singer is a sprechstimme role in the style of Brecht/Weill, and so the music is reflected accordingly. When singers of different styles take a duet or trio, elements of their styles are intertwined into a single style, or are overridden by a pervading style--however all the singers remain true to their voices, creating a clash of styles more like one would encounter in a normal conversation.

Will this work? Honestly, I have my doubts. There's usually a good reason why certain things have happened a certain way over time. However, I'm taking the chance to experiment, to try an idea that is, at least new to me. If I was worried about performability, perceived popular opinion, or economics, this project would never exist. How can I make money on a full scale opera, being worked on at the moment with no opera company partner? How can I write music that is outside the perceived popular opinion? And where will I find a punk singer that's willing to scream on stage for an opera?

All good questions, and things I will deal with after the work is completed. I can pitch the project to companies, now as I'm working, and later after it's finished, or find a way to finance and produce the work myself. I never worry about perceived popular opinion, but it is interesting to note that every single person I've described this project to thinks it's a fantastic idea--from the musical idea, to the original story, to the interweaving of folk tales and current politics, to the influence of death metal. And you'd be amazed how many popular performers were in drama club in HS, and wouldn't mind doing another musical, especially if it's doing what they already do.  

All this ties into the idea of experiential learning, that humans can learn to do something through active experimentation. What happens when experimentation is removed, and instead replaced with an economic rationale for learning? It's actually been shown in a couple articles that money is not the best motivator. Instead, internal motivation for creation should be used for motivating young musicians. Furthermore, education should be used to broaden a students understanding, not force a narrow viewpoint. Even in specialized courses, the goal is to challenge students, not to give them basic tools and shoo them out the door. We'll end up with generations of young people unable to reason their way out of a problem, only apply pre-determined formulas. I've seen this first hand from a specific trade school churning out graduates in audio production. Most of the students I've met come out with an understanding of exactly what they were shown, and nothing else. There are a few outstanding students I've met that had a firmer grasp of fundamentals and theoretical ideas, allowing them to apply their training to other similar devices...but only a few.

All of these ideas tie to the idea of personal experimentation. I am under no illusion that my music is somehow transcendentally unique. Instead I work in small increments, learning new skills, new ideas, and testing my own boundaries. All the while I'm learning the breadth of music available, and seeing where I fit within the grand traditions.

Experimentalism in a universal sense is moving outside those student experiments. You've been working on ideas, ideas that for all your hard research you have yet to find paralleled elsewhere. Perhaps it's a new tuning system, or a the use of a newly created instrument. This is the universal experimentalism. It's what happens when a person follows a long stream of "what if"s until it reaches a point where no one has explored before. This is what leads to great leaps in technology and art.

It's what happened when multitrack recorders started hitting the circuit. The idea of multitrack recording (or recording more than 1 channel at a time. This includes stereo recording) is ubiquitous now, but it wasn't widely available until the early 1960s. The first commercial machines were made in the late '50s by Ampex, with the first one sold to Les Paul. And without Les Paul, Ampex may never have even made the technology, as his continuous tinkering and experimentation led to several different multitrack recording set-ups prior to Ampex selling him the 8-track machine. By the late 70s, multitrack had taken over.

It's what happens when Bela Bartok and Zoltan Kodaly take an early mono recorder out and start recording folk songs. Alan Lomax did the same thing, collecting American folk songs, but did so in a way to preserve the tradition. Bartok took the folk songs, and used their raw nature to create classical music. Even this idea was far from new, with the use of folk and popular songs as starting points for art music dating back to the beginning of art music (see fact #7). But it was the way in which Bartok used the folk songs, keeping the complexities and nuances of the untrained singers, not shying away from free rhythms and complex meters as needed. It was keeping the pitch material closer to the original, instead of shoving it into an already accepted Western scale.

It's an experimental nature that leads to something new to the entire form, not just to a single person. It's that leap in understanding. It's the same leap made by Pierre Schaefer  in using recorded sounds to create music, something that is now common in popular and art mediums. It's those leaps that can be lost when we turn music education into a job preparation kit, especially focusing on ideas that are popular over personal exploration and development.

It's that constant search for bettering oneself. Some people refer to this as "finding your voice." I dislike that phrase because it points to an end point, that all this work leads to one single outcome; your voice, your one unified style in which every piece shall be written. I wonder what Stravinsky would think of this idea as he switched styles throughout his life. Or Penderecki, who after writing complex pieces with large amounts of extended techniques, switched to a more Romantic style. Did they never find their voices? Or do we consider their last pieces the culmination, that this is what the journey was all about. Has Penderecki, who still lives and writes music, found his voice in his latest choral works?

Or is there no one voice, and he's moved continuously in development, accepting and rejecting his own ideas. Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshmia is a highly experimental piece composed in 1960. Penderecki explored many extended techniques, percussive hitting of the body of the string instruments, and new notations. He has since left this style, with the anecdote being that he "has written all that can be written in this language." Is this type of language a dead end then? Are there no more experiments, just rearrangements of the same twelve tones?

I argue against this approach, the linear idea of a start and a finish. I believe any use of music education that becomes that sort of end-product focused can lead to a disaster. Of course there are markers we can use. A performer can and should be able to play all major and minor scales over the entire extent of the instrument. This can be graded for accuracy, and the next step of technique can be attained. A composer can and should learn to write a fugue, following very specific rules. The adherence to these rules can and should be graded for accuracy. The same can be said for learning counterpoint rules, all the extended techniques available for each instrument, basic instrumentation, form, different ways of generating musical structures, and on and on. The more knowledge one has, even if not actively engaging in it's use, will change the way one thinks about a passage...and all of a sudden, completely unbidden, a passage turns into a perfect serialist fugue, without the aid of a matrix.

Experimentalism in music is needed at all levels. It is through this experimentation, the pushing of new ideas, that music can grow. It is not through touting all ideas as new ideas. Research is integral to this approach. A young chemist doing a simple experiment, say, heating mercury thiocyanate in a place no one has thought to in a while, say, in a large quantity in a park, doesn't run out and say "I have created something entirely new! A wonderful form of chemistry called 'live interactive park chemistry!' " It's still the same experiment. And, more than likely someone has done it...and gotten the fine associated with creating noxious fumes in a public place.

In closing, it's important to remember that without experimentalism, there is no development in music. By making music into a vocational schooling meant to pump out musicians that can trumpet the latest fad in music, but without the skills to reach new conclusions will only hurt music in the long run. It will create a generation of followers, musicians that think they're developing new ideas when in reality just putting a slightly different paint job on the same idea.

On experimentalism

In the current push of critiquing music, a few views have become old stand-bys:

1. All music must be immediately relevant to a mythic, all encompassing audience. Most classical music, either from the past or currently written does not fit this mold
2. The number one way to prove the relevancy and quality of a work is to show that it sells well. This means high ticket and record sales. To this end, it is obvious that classical music should adopt popular music models.
3. Music education at the post-secondary level should be to prepare musicians for the business end of music, to train musicians to make a living in the arts after graduation. This ties directly into point 2, as the types of music studied, styles of courses, and various grading mechanism should be tied to economic success. 
4. Differing views from the populist model are considered traditional, and the main reason people are against this model is due to their conservative streak. It's a new way of thinking, and therefore the more conservative minded are against it.
5. We should exemplify organizations that have succeeded in creating money and popularity without criticizing their stance, or without researching and considering all of the pros and cons of those positions. Most importantly, it should be known that what works for one organization will work for all organizations, regardless of locale, clientele, or any other factors. 
6. Experimental (read not traditional nor pop influence fusion), academic, post-tonal, musique concrete acoustique, spectralism, and any other movements in music function to alienate the audience, and therefore should be eschewed for styles of music more popular with the mythic audience.

These points are heavy handed reductions of the views I've been reading from critics, comments throughout the web, and conversation with musicians. Being heavy handed, they show my attitude quite clearly toward these simplified views. Let me continue to lay my hand on the table.

There's been a trend recently on this blog to explain positions that are outside the popular opinion of a small circle of respected critics. Most of these critics hail from the Eastern seaboard of the US, with a large concentration in the mid-Atlantic and NYC area. This NYC-centricity explains ideas that are most apt to that specific locale, and only describe a sub-section of all the people in the area. For every description of  dinner/concert production that has met with success, there are any number of new music groups performing difficult, interesting, and experimental works. For every pop oriented performance, there's a JACK quartet performing Helmut Lachenmann to rave reviews or Georg Friedrich Haas' tour de force String Quartet No. 3 to a packed house. This is to say that as critics try and create one image of the arts, a different image, held in a completely different dimension, seems to be moving along well. 

The populist view has a damning effect, which I attempted to articulate in part in my post on pandering. At an even earlier point, I attacked the idea of writing for an imaginary perfect audience. The rationale is simple: to write for a presumed perfect audience, a composer must be willing to move against his own ideas, and accept a cobbled-together, watered down, multiple choice test aggregate idea of what music is. This is where articles have been written specifically saying not to write or perform down to an audience. Simply put, if you're looking at the average of a wide demographic, it is easy to shoot for that average or the lower end of the average. That is, in effect, pandering: giving the audience what you think they want instead of giving the audience the highest caliber artistic experience possible. 

For composers to choose this path is their own prerogative. There are composers working in popular music genres, fusion genres, and all over that write compelling, interesting, and original music in those styles. They have an ability to find their own personal voice while navigating a narrow checklist of must haves when writing in particular genre. Not everyone can do this--not everyone can accept adding a bass drop and a dub style bass line to a pop song, even if it is in vogue. 

I'm reminded of an excellent blog-post by Alex Temple on cultural relevancy. As soon as the argument becomes about classical music being relevant, it's important to remember to ask "for whom?" Beyond that, it's important to go through what may or may not make the experience important to people. It could be the music, or the preconceptions about the music and its environment. The problem could, in fact, have nothing to do with the experience as it would happen, but the assumed ideas of people regarding the experience. 

This all bleeds into my ideas on education. I've been an active educator for quite some time, ranging from teaching private lessons and coaching ensembles at local middle school and high schools during my undergrad years, to teaching brass during marching season, to music appreciation at the college level (sometimes for high school students in special programs), and into teaching audio engineering, music technology, and composition. In Marek Poliks' ongoing series, he recently discussed how new music is academic music, and the inextricable ties between these two institutions.

It's true, new music is academic music. And the idea of new music, or perhaps we should say original music, is under attack.

Let's look first at the University system in America. There is the continued strife between "traditionalists," or those that like the idea of a broad, core curriculum (the liberal arts), and "academics" that want a curriculum with tighter specialized courses, but at the same time larger freedom for students to choose their path. There's also a trend toward looking at the economic success of alumni as a measuring stick for how well a college is doing. This can be simplified to a question: what is the purpose of higher education? Is it to learn skills to be successful in an economic sense? Is it to achieve a higher level of education, broad or specific? Is it to prepare a student for his/her chosen career path, whether or not that career path is economically viable? More and more questions arise from the simple question of "What is the purpose of higher education?"

This is hotly debated in music. DePauw University is currently changing their entire curriculum, and even though I'm an alumni, I have heard nothing regarding how it may change (nor much more than a basic survey regarding what I perceive I may have needed from the education to be successful as a musician). What I fear is a turn toward the populist economic model. David Cutler has written several articles (which I've linked before) that have some provocative ideas in them. And some of those ideas make me afraid for one of the main tenets I believe post-secondary education can provide for students:

A safe haven for experimentation.

There was a study published looking at what has been happening in popular music, specifically measuring the use of timbre, pitch, and dynamics, to see what has changed in the past 50+ years. The answers, summarized in the Smithsonian online magazine, has shown that timbre content has gone down, pitch content has gone down, and overall loudness (and compression) have gone up. Fewer pitches, fewer sounds, louder. 

There's been a similar movement in classical music. Starting after WWII, post-tonal theories were leading in new works. Serialism was still chugging along. The avant-garde was still working hard, producing works in new styles, including proportional notation, working with extended tuning systems after Harry Partch, Moving later in America, the avant-garde took a different approach, moving away from the densely packed machinations of their predecessors and into minimalism and post-minimalism. Minimalist works focused on process, a single idea taken through to it's logical conclusion (think, Clapping Music by Steve Reich or In C by Terry Riley). Or there were other takes, a more ambient, repetitive music that, occasionally, would shift slightly Post-minimalism took the idea, and toned down the nature of it. It turned, in a sense, to a modal music that was triadic in nature. What I mean is that while it took chords from tonal music, it did not adhere to the structure of tonal music. This was new to the classical music scene of the time, but it had been explored heavily, dating back to early triadic constructions (pre-Common Practice Era, or roughly 1600CE), and then again in jazz, most notably with Miles Davis' recording Kind of Blue. The first track of Kind of Blue, entitled So What typifies the idea of modal music. In this case, Davis uses only two chords, alternating between them. One could even make a claim that the jazz world predated the idea of Terry Riley's In C with Charle's Minguse's 1956 recording The Clown, especially the first track Haitian Fight Song (and further examples can be found throughout time, as ideas are recycled, altered, and gussied up for the new generation).

All this to point out that there was a reactive movement that started in the 60s and moved through the 70s and 80s in classical music away from a dense pitch construction, but retained the complexity of timbre and dynamics. The study about popular music didn't take into account rhythm, but one can see a squaring out of rhythms in classical music during this time period as well, sometimes as a mode of expression (in the harsh repetitive nature of early Philip Glass), or because of the aggregate end product was far more complex (Clapping Music and In C). At the same time, groups were experimenting in new modes of expression, including spectralism, among the many. Increases in technology made it easier for electronic music to be produced, and it was beginning to move further from the fringes of the avant-garde to a more mainstream avant-garde; away from being a sub-sub-genre, alienated even with the experimental community, to being accepted by the experimental community. But where is this incredibly abbreviated, and ham-handed history leading us?

Unlike what many populists purport, there has not been an industry wide attack on tonal, neo-Romantic, or any other type of music in academia. As aging serialist composers retired from teaching life, their students and the generation younger than them (who were still taught by the older powers), took a more holistic, inviting approach. Here's the disconnect I am seeing--not once in my lessons with composers young and old was I told not to write a certain style of music. Not once. And yet, critics seem to take a point in saying that composers are out of touch, that we force views on students like it's Darmstadt at its inception, that it's Pierre Boulez pre-correspondences with John Cage. And, in the place of serialism, they wish to raise up a new all-powerful master: music written for the imaginary perfect audience.

It will, of course, be accessible to all, unlike past music. It will follow trends in popular music. It will find ways to engage audiences in new ways, like playing in clubs or maximizing online resources.

It will be regressive, turning into a follower, not a leader. It will try to engage all people, while ignoring those already standing by its side. And it will discard all that has been for something new, because the past is over, and nothing can be learned or gained by examining it.

This is a problem. It's a problem because it takes a strong dogmatic stance, it raises one form of art over another as far as taste (not quality), and creates expectations of what artists will need without regard to the trade-offs. This is, of course, on the side of hyperbolic--I'm engaged not with the specific people involved, but with their marketed personas. What may be just another form of sensationalist media hides what could be amazing conversations with the greatest care and intent.

But it's important not to leave behind the spirit of true experimentation in all areas. And since experimental and new ideas are not immediately profitable, they come at odds with that line of thinking.

Touchscreens were patented in the US in 1967. The first commercial use of a touchscreen in a computer was in the early 1980s. They were a regular feature in certain GMC cars in the late 80s (Buicks, I believe. I have actually seen and touched one of touch screens). When was the first touchscreen phone? The early 90s with a prototype by IBM, some 10+ years before Apple's development of the iPhone. The original handheld mobile phones came out in the 1970s, and it wasn't until the 1990s that mobile phones became more widespread.

Early versions of these technologies were expensive to produce, and met with resistance from traditionally minded people. Technophobia is a normal condition brought on by rapid changes in technology--it's much easier to use what we are used to than to explore a constantly changing environment. The same is true in music.

The most well-documented and cited example may be Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky. The piece was a radical departure from the norm of the time, exploring a more modal style of writing with repetitive chords, brash orchestration, (skip back to hear an explanation) and had an accompanying choreography by Vaslav Nijinsky that was as provocative as the music. And yet, 100 years after Rite of Spring premiered to riots and critical disdain, it has been embraced by the musical community as one of the greatest works of the 20th century. The acclaim came somewhat quickly, as after the dust had settled from the premiere, about a year later the concert version was meeting with more popular success. A year is a short time to wait if one writes a piece that is so provocative or experimental! But there are still many musicians who find this work to be challenging and progressive, even as it past it's 101st birthday.

What would happen to these works if they were tied perfectly to commercial success. Can we expect more composers like Stravinksy, who found collaborators with large purse strings, willing to fund the most forward thinking and experimental works? Or will we take the view of the large institutions in the US, a conservative viewpoint of Romantic repertoire being the large selling point, with the more populist pieces and well known living composers getting a small sampling of performances? Will we see another John Cage Concert for Piano, a work whose score involves as much drawing as standard notation, and each individual part can be played as a solo without the piano? And when will we see it? Will it be a Radiohead-esque experience, where the band writes the music that makes money, then turns more and more toward the experimental vibe they always wanted? Or will we, as certain composers such as John Adams claim, lead to a weakening of music by lack of forward movement?

And can something exist that walks the line between experimentation (in a personal and universal fashion) and traditionalism still be a strong piece?

In my next post, I'll talk more about my personal relationship with experimentalism, and how and where I'm seeing that spirit continue, either in small steps or giant leaps. I believe these examples will help clarify why I firmly believe that academia should not just become a way to churn out students with business sense and the ability to read market data and create a product that will sell for the radio, but to be a breeding ground for experimentalism in all its forms. This is especially true of personal experimentation, urging students to go far outside their comfort zone, examine new ideas, and work toward greater goals.

A rally against...

"unrehearsed" readings.

ah, i can hear the composers and performers starting to rally against me, pitchforks raised!

"Any performance or reading is good for the composer!"

Is it? I've heard two recently that were...how should I put it...a disservice to both the composer and the ensemble. The players came in underprepared--I'm pretty sure they were sight-reading--and the performance sounded...bad. very bad. both times, I was fortunate to have the score in front of me because without it, there's a good chance I would have had no idea what was happening.

both performances were plagued with basic errors--rhythms, missing repeats, poor intonation, missing dynamic markings entirely, and lots of missed notes--as well as the ensemble issues you would expect in an "unrehearsed" reading.

Now, maybe I'm approaching this incorrectly. Maybe my ideals as a performer are different. Yes, I say performer, not composer. I like to compare an unrehearsed reading to what happens at the first rehearsal in any ensemble.

Professional performers, how many of you step into your first rehearsal without looking over the part, identifying the difficult passages, putting in at least a minimal amount of practice, and come prepared to play?

How many of you look at it for the first time at the rehearsal?

Now, I haven't gigged much--most of my gigs come from many years past--but in every pit I played in, every sub job I've gotten, I made sure when I stepped in to the first rehearsal or, if I'm "lucky," the performance without a rehearsal, I've looked at my part. I've more than looked at my part, I've listened to the piece, looked through a score if I can get one, and marked that puppy up.

As a conductor, the last time i premiered a piece was a while ago. It had tons of mixed meters, all sorts of rhythmic issues, dynamic changes, etc. When i walked into my first rehearsal, I was not sight reading that score, because if I had been, i would have lost all cred with the performers. and since I was stepping in front of performers whom have never seen my conduct, i definitely needed that cred.

These two readings I saw recently, i don't think the performers did that. As a composer, this means I will shy away from them. It speaks to a lack of professionalism.

But maybe i'm wrong. maybe an unrehearsed reading MEANS sight-reading. In which case, you better be a damn good sight reader, and let people know upfront that you're sight-reading. As a performer, it's a disservice to yourself. As a trombone player, if I step in to play a piece, and I'm sight reading, and there's a sudden range jump, I will crack the note. I may not completely miss it (ok, right now I'd probably miss it), but i will crack it. I won't be reading far enough ahead to see it and prep myself. I'll see it and say "oh shit, Bb coming up...go!!!" So, if I get a part, I'm looking through it, even if it's just an hour before rehearsal. I've definitely done that, my "warm-up" consisting mainly of reading through parts.

But it's also a major disservice to the composer. You go in, you've got high hopes. YOUR PIECE IS GOING TO BE PLAYED!!! HOLY SHIT!!!! It's a big deal for those of us who don't get tons of performances. and then, the group steps up--you sent them the parts three, maybe four weeks ago. in the email, you say "let me know if you have any questions." You attached an mp3 of the MIDI "realization" from Sibelius (ever so real, isn't it?), and a study score. The first thing said to you:

"Oh, this has repeats? Hm, that'll be harder to read..."

Your heart sinks immediately. You now know that player did not look at his/her part in the preceding three weeks. Maybe s/he was busy. Of course, they're being paid $3K by the university for the reading, so you'd think they'd at least take a couple minutes out of the day to look it over.

The ensemble hedged their bet and have a conductor--it's only for 4 players, but since it's "unrehearsed" they want to stick together.

And the conductor complains you didn't put conducting marks, lines and triangles, in the score but 2+2+3 instead. You start to open your mouth and say "well, it's not meant to be conducted, i just put it as a courtesy to the players...and it means the same thing..." but you bite your tongue.

Your hopes are sinking fast, and they hit the first chord

out of tune

by the fourth measure, a player, who has a lightly syncopated 16th note rhythm, is already off from the group. By the end of the piece, you've stopped looking at your score, and you're wondering if there's a drink special at the local bar, and how many shots you can do before retching. and you're happy your mom didn't come.

After the reading, you go through the score with a fine tooth comb- what did I do wrong? What was unclear? Should I remove all the repeats, does that make it too hard? Maybe this cello line isn't playable...you consider everything the players said because they are, after all, professionals.

And the recording is rubbish. can't send it out for more readings or competitions.

You spend three days editing feverishly before you see your teacher. S/he was at the reading, but you ran out quickly enough that no one could catch your ire/sadness/repulsion/physical illness. You nervously tap on the door, and enter. First thing out of your teacher's mouth?

"Don't put your faith in that reading. they were obviously unprepared, hadn't looked at the parts, didn't even stay focused in the reading. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Please say you didn't change the whole score..."

Too late...

This is why I'm against these readings. Is it good to hear your piece played by live performers?

Hell yes.

But not in this format. If the players take it seriously, and plenty do (man, I'm looking forward to the eighth blackbird readings at UMKC. Damn straight they're not going to flub ANYTHING), then it can be a great experience. But, i'm seeing a disturbing trend of players that think too highly of themselves. They think "i've played Carter, i can play anything. Nothing these students write will challenge me..." then they are met with their nemesis of extended double tongued passages and sudden 2 octave leaps. And the performers get defensive "well, that's too hard..." but, you know full well it's not too hard, or "unidiomatic" or whatever you can say. No, you bombed it. And the composer knows it too.

And so do all the highly trained musicians in the room.

But you know who doesn't? all the middle musicians and general audience. Ya know what they think? that the piece sucks. Hell, maybe it does suck, but no one can really tell.

Maybe I'm just in a bad mood, but this bugs me. And, no, neither piece was my own. And it was different ensembles, in different cities, at different times. and there are great readings- the Prism quartet put together a freakin' clinic on how these should be handled, and i'm positive the eight blackbird readings will be ridiculously amazing. But it's so disheartening to see good friends win great opportunities, and get nothing but neurosis out of the experience.

and as musicians, we all have too much neurosis as is.

graduate school

I have several friends in the writing world, and, from what i've heard, getting into an MFA program is, i gather, quite stressful. People asking other people where to go, checking out lists, trolling message boards, waiting not so patiently, wondering how to write those personal statements. I find it, well, intriguing.

for how closer creative writing and composition are, this is one area confounds me. Maybe it's because i never had these experiences. I'm sure other MM and DMA candidates have had them. But, i did things a little differently.

I never really went looking for any published lists of "the best MM Composition programs in the nation." There were the programs i had heard of with famous teachers; Cornell, Princeton, Yale, Stanford, USC. Then there were programs i'd heard about but didn't know the teachers; BGSU, Columbia College in Chicago, Brooklyn College (other than Tania Leon), Temple, UNT. and then there were programs i hadn't heard of and yet had amazing people, and i wondered why i hadn't heard about them; UMKC (mainly)

Well, i started here.

http://www.50states.com/college

yep, it's a link that basically has links to a ton of schools. Yep, that's right, i said "where do i want to live" and started clicking on schools, reading about the programs from their sites, and, occasionally, scheduling a visit. That't how i ended up at U Washington for a trip to meet some people. I hadn't even figured out what i wanted to get my Masters in yet (i was waffling between Conducting and Composition, and then after meeting the trombone prof and him saying "wow, you've played those pieces? you should do performance" i started thinking, yeah, maybe trombone performance).

It was a long, boring, random search that yielded not a lot.

So, what did i do when it was actually time to apply? well, i screwed up, missed all the deadlines but one, and they lost my scores. and i told them, in not so nice terms "no, i cannot reprint off $50 worth of scores and sent them fedex 2 day to you. i don't have the money for that." yeah, burned that bridge...royally. Never get on my bad side...seriously...

But, seriously, how did i decide on any schools? Easy...i asked my professors. Who better to ask? if you've got obstinate profs, they might just tell you to go where they did. But, most a lot of profs, especially those you've worked with closely, are going to know a thing or two. They're gonna know other professors at other schools. Buddies they met when they were in school, or at conferences, or at wine tastings, or parasailing. They are a wealth of knowledge. Especially, someone in your specific area.

I found out about where i went to for my MM, Brooklyn College, from Carlos Carrillo. He taught at good ole DePauw, and was my composition teacher. I asked him, "where do i go next? i know i want to go, but where?" and he said, without a pause "Brooklyn College."

Now, he told me that to go study with a particular person, Tania Leon. I never did study with her. but, he gave me other reasons, told me "it'd fit my personality, plus i'd be in NYC, studying with high caliber people without having to go to an Ivy...where i probably would not fit in well."

and he was completely, 100% right. He knew my writing style (or lack thereof at the time) and my personality. I probably wouldn't have done well at Princeton or Cornell, though a piece of me still wants to go...i could transfer, after all...But i'm quite happy here, thanks.

As i finished my MM, i asked George Brunner, my then composition teacher the same question. and he said, without hesitation "UMKC."

"why"

"i'll give you four reasons: Paul Rudy, James Mobberley, Chen Yi and Zhou Long"

"well then, i guess i'm applying to UMKC..."

Again, Skip knows me quite well. Probably better than anyone else. I also got the advice to check out SUNY: Buffalo, and if i hadn't gotten in at semester here at UMKC, i probably would have go back and forth between the two.

Yes, getting in here was luck, especially at semester. But it's working out great.

Still, it's how i found out where i was supposed to be. I asked people who know programs, know other people, and who know me. Yes, you'll end up with a thousand suggestions, but, considering there are millions of choices, a thousand is really cutting it down.

and, one thing about lists. in the end, the college experience is subjective. Each person will experience it differently. I know a lot of people that LOVED DePauw. I HATED it until much later, until i could look back and see what really happened. But, being there, i disliked it a lot. There were a lot of people on campus i didn't get along with. The whole Greek system baffled me as to why anyone would ever join. but the professors, oh man, they are AWESOME. i thought so at the time, but it didn't win against the bureaucracy, dislike of the social system, not getting along with a lot of people, and living in the middle of nowhere.

I probably would dislike being at Princeton. I have a gut feeling i wouldn't like it at all. yet, it's ranked as one of the top 5 schools in the nation every year. Statistics don't tell you anything worth knowing. Yeah, they have money. graduates get placed well.

But do i want to study with Steve Mackey? Well, yes, but that's not the point. lol. It's a personal matter. Talk to your teachers, as they will know other teachers. Find out who teachers where. Listen to a lot of music (or read a lot of literature.) Find a program that looks, interesting, read things the professors have written. dig through journals. Find other people who may have studied with so and so or who know so and so personally.

Really, tough, lists tell you nothing of what you'll experience. It's all subjective. That's why you just trust those you trust to give you good advice, and then trust your gut. you'll know after listening to 1 minute of music by a teacher (or reading a page or two) if you'll click with a person. remember, creative works are always windows to the souls of the artist.

Anyway, that's my 2 cents on finding a program. just ask someone you trust, who knows your work. They'll have some good ideas for ya. Or just look geographically. lol.