The Seattle Symphony announces the third Seattle Symphony Celebrate Asia Composition
Competition. The Competition seeks to promote and recognize emerging composers who are
interested in Asian culture, music and traditions.
In partnership with local community groups, the Seattle Symphony honors and celebrates Seattle’s
Asian community with an annual Celebrate Asia event. The concept originated in 2008, through
collaboration with local Asian leaders who were keen to strengthen bonds with the broader
community through a cultural celebration.
The Seattle Symphony presents its 110th season in 2012–2013, under the artistic leadership of
Music Director Ludovic Morlot. The Orchestra performs in the acoustically superb Benaroya Hall in
downtown Seattle. The Symphony is internationally recognized for its adventurous programming of
contemporary works, its devotion to the classics, and its extensive recording history. From September
through July, the Symphony is heard live by more than 315,000 people.
The Seattle Symphony has gained international prominence with more than 140 recordings, twelve
GRAMMY® nominations and two Emmys. The 2012–2013 season marks its 110th year and the
second for Music Director Ludovic Morlot.
Award and Performance
The winning composer will receive a $1,000 award and an opportunity to visit Seattle for the world
premiere. The winning score will be premiered by the Seattle Symphony on January 27, 2013, in
Benaroya Hall at the annual Celebrate Asia concert.
All composers born after January 1, 1978, are eligible.
Ludovic Morlot, Seattle Symphony Music Director
Simon Woods, Seattle Symphony Executive Director
Elena Dubinets, Seattle Symphony Vice President of Artistic Planning
1) Works must have Asian influences (for example: Asian folk melodies, Asian stories and
legends, Asian traditional instruments).
2) Works must be new, original and accessible.
3) Works should be 3 to 6 minutes in duration. (There will be 30 minutes allotted to rehearsing
this new work.)
4) Works should be for orchestra or chamber orchestra with instrumentation no larger than
3333 – 4331 – T+3 – hp – kybd – str. Woodwind doublings are allowed.
5) The submitted work must have had no prior performances.
6) Interested composers should submit:
- A legible, bound, full score
- A recording of the piece on a CD (midi-format is OK)
- A clear description of the composition’s Asian influence(s)
- A biography, with current address, e-mail address, and phone number
- If selected, professionally prepared parts and 2 scores will be required 90 days prior
to the first rehearsal
Entry Fee and Deadline
There is no entry fee. All entries must arrive no later than Friday, August 31, 2012. Seattle Symphony
is not responsible for lost or damaged material. The winning composition will be announced before
Friday, September 28, 2012.
Send submission to:
Seattle Symphony Celebrate Asia Composition Competition
ATTN: Amy Bokanev
P.O. Box 21906
Seattle, WA 98111-3669
Questions and inquiries may be emailed to: firstname.lastname@example.org
I recently attended a concert featuring music by Antonin Dvorak. Dvorak is one of those much beloved composers whose music I find incredibly inconsistent due, in no small part, to his incredible facility in composition. To paraphrase a conductor friend, he just doesn’t seem to struggle enough for his notes (this friend was referring not to Dvorak but to Camille Saint-Saens, however, a composer whose work, in my opinion, embodies this dichotomy even more problematically than Dvorak). Being an extremely opinionated consumer of social media, I immediately posted something to this effect on my Facebook page, something with elicited a minor controversy and one of the most stimulating discussions I’ve ever had on my wall. A couple of things came up in this discussion that have stayed with me: 1. what is this struggle and why is it so important? And 2. Is it okay to criticize the GREATS of the past?
So, what do I mean by struggle? A romantic (or Romantic) aspect of this comes to us from, like many things, Beethoven. Beethoven famously and mightily worked out his ideas in copious sketchbooks before setting them down in a score. His struggle, mind you, is rather mythologized, but it added to his mystique as a composer, even in life, and remains a part not just of his legacy but, being perhaps the gold standard of GREAT composer, of all our compositional legacies (well, at least our baggage).
Mozart is the most famous and sublime antithesis to this notion. Young Wolfgang Amadeus, perhaps the first freelance composer in Western music history, had famous, prolific facility for composition, sometimes producing sets of parts before producing an autograph manuscript of a score. Much like Beethoven’s struggle, however, this facility is largely the product of mythmaking, particularly stemming from Mozart’s years as a stupefying child prodigy and propagated primarily by his father, Leopold. Mozart, unlike Beethoven, didn’t see the need to work out his ideas on paper, but you’d better believe that ideas as gloriously worked out as his, particularly in the works of his last decade, were arrived at after careful consideration.
As to the question of criticism of the GREATS: a composer friend of mine took issue with this notion, suggesting, somewhat ironically, I think, that I must be supremely confident in my own compositional abilities to feel comfortable criticizing GREAT composers like Dvorak or Saint-Saens for “not being great enough.” Hubris (I am confident in my abilities or I wouldn’t be a professional composer, but I try, at least, to keep grounded about where I fit in. We stand, after all, on the shoulders of giants), however, is not what drives my criticism.
Just as writers must be prolific readers, so should composers be prolific listeners. In the act of listening (or reading) one absorbs certain lessons about how to write one’s own work. How else are we to arrive at something resembling a confident voice as artists if we are not free to criticize, good or ill, the work of others, good or GREAT? The key, of course, is to apply that same criticism–turned up to eleven, perhaps– to our own work.
I bring this up because Dvorak teaches me about my own strengths and weaknesses as a composer. Like Dvorak (or Saint-Saens, or Hindemith…), I have an amazing facility at generating notes, something which has proven to be a double edged sword, to say the least. On the one hand, I am able to finish a piece relatively quickly, which comes in handy when facing a looming deadline. On the other hand, I have become increasingly suspicious of my initial ideas, and will agonize for long periods over my ideas (in my head and on the computer), often putting pieces down for weeks or months at a time (when the schedule allows it) before reaching a final decision on a passage. This is more problematic the older I get, it seems, although recently I have found that ideas are flowing very easily…which fills me with dread that the piece I’m working on is no good!
Perhaps this dread is also part of the struggle. Or perhaps Dvorak’s and Saint-Saens’ advocates on my Facebook wall are right: not every piece should be a masterpiece. Maybe I should just relax and let pieces do what they will do. I should be so lucky as to find the kind of audience that Dvorak and Saint-Saens (and yes, even Hindemith) enjoy!
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I’ve been thinking, lately, about the career expectations for composers in general and the state of the academic job market for composers in particular. When I started down this road some 21 years ago I had the expectation, like many of us did (and many, like my students, still do), that I would settle into a comfortable if not always lucrative teaching career as a primary source of income to support my “research” (I always feel funny calling creative work “research,” so I have to use quotation marks, even if ironic ones). I held this expectation for the entirety of my four years as an undergraduate and six years as a graduate student and valiantly (and unsuccessfully) dipped my feet into the job pool in 1999 (not too unsuccessfully, though: I did make one short list, much to my delight). In 2002, having completed my doctorate and finished a year as an adjunct I took a job as a Visiting Assistant Professor and moved my family to the Pacific northwest for a year, expecting this to be the typical first step towards a tenure track university position.
Well, as the man said, life is what happens when you’re making other plans. Almost ten years later and I still have not found a tenure track job. I spent three years outside of academia entirely, then landed a visiting position in upstate New York which lasted two years and, while it boosted my resume (I’ve made more short lists and gotten more interviews since) it still did not lead to a full time position. I’ve been lucky enough to find a fulfilling, well-paying and relatively stable (at least for the time being) adjunct position at a prestigious conservatory, though, which has allowed me to pursue professional opportunities that I might not have had the opportunity to pursue had I been in a tenure-track position from the beginning. A number of my friends haven’t been so lucky, however, and continue to struggle to make a life in music or give up entirely and move on to other, less punishing professions. Others have managed to piece together careers either through sheer luck and perseverance while precariously balancing a number of part-time jobs to help support their careers. This has led to an unusual, perhaps unique situation in our field over the past decade in creating almost an entire generation where a great number of the most prominent young practitioners of our craft are not associated with a particular university.
I’m lucky. I have a job, and a pretty good one, all things considered. I’ve also been able to forge a career, however modest, as a composer and have the majority of my music performed, and very well at that. But in teaching at a conservatory I come across students who still expect to find a university position and make their way as composers that way at a time when universities are cutting programs and consolidating others into sometimes bizarre combinations (good luck finding that one composer who can also teach ear training, run the electronic music lab, teach applied tuba and manage the school’s underwater Tai-Chi Renaissance Shawm Consort!). I can’t help but feel like we’re doing them a disservice if we don’t at least hint at how difficult a life they are headed into. Thankfully, a number of university programs are requiring “business of music” type courses that teach survival strategies and alternative approaches to generating a musical career, but I still get nervous knowing how difficult landing a teaching job (even for rising superstars with every award and fellowship in the planet, as it turns out) can be.
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I have never run a marathon. I’m not exactly built to run marathons. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the importance of exercise, or that I don’t partake in it (although I often have to force myself to do it), but it’s just not something I’m made for. So when I use running a marathon as an analogy for conducting De Materie I am not exactly speaking from experience. I do imagine, however, that this is what running a marathong must be like…if a marathon started with a 3 mile sprint. This is a HARD piece, particularly the first movement, which Louis himself admits is problematic. The bulk of the difficulties, however, are not technical but about endurance. 100 minutes of intense music takes a lot out of one.
This is the toughest thing I’ve ever done as a conductor, and I’m loving every minute of it. I can understand now why people actually run marathons. There is something intensely satisfying about being in the middle of a huge project and seeing it to completion. As rehearsals progress I find myself actually thinking ahead to the next BIG project (up until now I’ve been thinking that Great Noise Ensemble’s 2011-12 season would be smaller and more intimate. Now I’m thinking that we need another really big, buzz-worthy production to follow this one; although I suppose I should wait until after Sunday, and how it goes, to make that decision). It’s a little crazy, a bit punishing, but intensely satisfying.
Last night I picked Louis Andriessen up at the airport and went on to dinner with him, Great Noise’s Executive Director and my department chair at Peabody. A splendid time was had by all. Louis continues to live up to his reputation for gracefulness and generosity, and thanked us and congratulated us for taking on what is, apparently, a very rare project. Tonight will be the first rehearsal at which he will be in attendance, and, needless to say, I’m a bit nervous. But, as the finish line to this marathon comes closer in sight, I can’t help but feel both relief and a pinge of sadness (I anticipate a feeling to overtake me Sunday night similar to that of the last day of summer camp).
SO…if you’re in the vicinity of Washington, D.C. (or not; this is a RARE complete performance of De Materie, after all) come check us out Sunday at 6:30 at the National Gallery of Art. A splendid time is guaranteed for all!
We’re at t-minus three weeks from the first rehearsal for De Materie with Great Noise Ensemble. It’s been a little bit of a mad scramble since the Washington Post featured our October 24 performance in their Fall Arts Guide almost two weeks ago, which reminded us of the reality of this project and how widely anticipated it is in the Washington scene. This sense of mad scramble was especially accentuated by the recent discovery that our usual rehearsal space at the Catholic University of America would be unavailable thanks to their fall opera production going up during the same week that we’ll be rehearsing De Materie. No big deal, really. It’s all part of guerrilla music making. The problem isn’t so much the need to find any space, since we’ve been there before, but, rather, the sheer size of this ensemble.
Great Noise Ensemble’s core instrumentation is usually about 18-20 members. De Materie not only requires two more vocal soloists than we have in our core, but also an eight member chorus and an instrumental ensemble of 50 people. That’s meant recruiting a total of 42 more musicians than we usually perform with. Add to that the amount of equipment utilized: three marimbas, glockenspiel, two vibraphones, two drum sets, eight boo-bams, snare drum, two bass drums, lion’s roar, large rattle, three large cowbells, two large wooden crates with sheet metal nailed on the inside, two sets of tom-toms, chimes, bell tree, guiro, slapstick, two bell plates and metal “junk” percussion (which could conceivably include a kitchen sink)…and that’s just the percussion! We need to find a space that can fit all of that, along with the performers required to play all of those instruments, the personnel and their instruments in the “traditional” line up, and three pianos (two grands and an upright), two synthesizers, harp, two electric guitars and an electric bass and their amplifiers (oh yeah, and we have to amplify the singers, so there are those amplifiers and microphones to fit).
Whew! I’m tired just writing all of that!
In all seriousness and honesty, this process has not been nearly as painful or difficult as I just made it sound. Actually, it really has not been difficult at all, thanks to all of the people working behind the scenes to make this event (and it is an event) possible: from GNE principal percussionist Chris DeChiara, to our Executive Director, Alan Michels and our Managing Director, Katherine Kellert, to the staff at the music department of the National Gallery of Art, led by Stephen Ackert, and Stephen C. Stone and Steve Gorbos at the Peabody Institute and the Catholic University of America, respectively. Hardest working of all, perhaps, has been Annelisa Guries, GNE’s Personnel Manager. Hers has been the job of finding the forty extra players that we needed for this concert. She has excelled at that responsibility.
Up next (I hope): a rehearsal report!
This weekend, Great Noise Ensemble began its 2010-11 concert season with two performances at the New Voices Festival, a festival of new works for voice organized by composition students at the Catholic University of America. Since Great Noise is in residence at CUA, we presented two evenings on the festival: one, last night, consisting of works selected from a nationwide call for soces; the other, on Friday, shared with CUA student composers and ensembles in which we presented John Harbison’s 1989 work, Words from Paterson.
Our next concert, on October 24, is the Washington premiere of De Materie. It garnered a significant blurb in this morning’s Washington Post’s Fall Arts Preview.
It’s on, baby!
The following is a lecture I will be delivering to the 2010 Interamerican Festival for the Arts on September 2 in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I am indebted to Christian Carey for editorial help.
Guerrilla campaigns, although defined most famously, perhaps, by that controversial icon of our neighbor to the northwest, Ernesto “Che” Guevara, have occurred throughout history on occasions when a small fighting force has faced off against a larger and more powerful opponent. Guerrilla fighters can, after a battle, easily blend back in with the general population, making it extremely difficult for the opposing forces to identify and strike at them, thus helping their efforts both militarily and politically. But, what do I mean by “guerrilla new music?”
In music today, so-called “classical” music or concert music, it’s safe to say, is a niche art form. The majority of the population is largely unaware of this rich and varied repertoire and concert music has thus become less commercially viable than it was, say, in the mid-20th century and thus less culturally relevant. If we judge this solely on sales statistics of recorded music (themselves tricky at a time when the record industry in general is in flux) we find the sobering—if unsurprising—statistic that classical music constitutes a mere 3% of total record sales with, as Anne Midgette puts it, “sales of 200 or 300 units [being] enough to land an album in the top 10.” Within this cultural niche, contemporary music is itself a niche, new or “modern” music having a reputation for difficult thorniness. The contemporary composer, and those performers who specialize in contemporary concert music, need to adopt, then, a position similar to that of guerrilla fighters in order not just to survive in the field, but to thrive and, hopefully (and ideally), change hearts and minds.
I am using a somewhat violent analogy. Music, thankfully, is not warfare and cooperation, not violence, is our methodology. Indeed, what I call for when I speak of “guerrilla new music” is a methodology based and dependent on an attitude adjustment towards new music and its presentation. This is a position that is gaining strong ground in the new music field and is quickly being noticed by more traditional “classical” music organizations.
Much has been made of late of the so-called “alt-classical” movement, particularly as represented by composers like Missy Mazzoli, Judd Greenstein and Ted Hearne, ensembles such as Flexible Music, the International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE), eighth blackbird and Alarm Will Sound, and the New Amsterdam record label in New York. This movement, if it may be called one, seeks to blur the boundaries between popular and concert music (or high and low art) and its exponents write and perform music that is often difficult to comfortably classify within a single genre. Genre Distinctions are nonexistent to the alt-classical composer.
My own ensemble, Great Noise Ensemble, has been associated with this movement by at least one critic (and one documentary filmmaker). I am not entirely comfortable with this association, although that is primarily because of my own inability as a composer to move fluidly among genres, even while accepting influences from music other than concert music. I do, however, feel solidarity with these artists in at least one sense: “classical” music is not the art of dead men, performed incredibly formally by people dressed very uncomfortably.
No, “classical” music is a LIVING art form. It is continually evolving in ways that often resist labels. We music guerrillas seek to reclaim it from the museum culture that has prevailed in the concert hall since the mid-19th century, a museum culture that has treated the concert hall as a surrogate church and in the process cheapened music’s very transcendence by slowly alienating it from its audience. The very term “classical” implies an unchanging structure, possibly made of marble, set and immovable. It is ANATHEMA to what we, as artists, do and seek to accomplish!
It is not the sense of the canon, however, that the Guerrilla Musician must repudiate. We must learn from the past and embrace it even as we experiment in new directions. We must learn from the errors of Modernism and its attitude of never glancing backwards. The music of the future will take care of itself, just as the music of the past has taken care of itself. We must write the music of the PRESENT.
The ideal Guerrilla Musician, like the guerrilla fighter, must be flexible. Guerrilla Musicians are just as comfortable performing the classics by Mozart, Beethoven and the other usual suspects as they are those by John Adams, Bryan Ferneyhough, Ken Ueno, Jennifer Higdon, Roberto Sierraor Frank Zappa. The Guerrilla Musician thus rejoins the population and becomes embedded within an established musical culture, fighting to change it from within.
The Guerrilla Musician must be a polyglot. Ours is a global concert hall and we must be conversant, if not even fluent, in languages other than our own. The Guerrilla Musicians in Great Noise Ensemble are known to perform and/or engage in scholarship about traditions as varied as North African and Middle Eastern music, rock, jazz, salsa, Indian raga and various folk musics. Our compatriots in the alt-classical movement are equally conversant in electronica, country, hip hop and other such vernacular styles. The Guerrilla Musician is as comfortable in the concert hall as s/he is in the night club.
The Guerrilla Musician must welcome his/her audience. S/He must challenge and uplift, educate and entertain, but s/he must NEVER alienate his/her audience. The tuxedo—especially the tail tuxedo—must NOT be a part of the Guerrilla Musician’s gear except when s/he is infiltrating the museum.
I have been rather intransigent in my language so far. My nature is not belligerent, although I am very passionate about this issue and this attitude’s power to resuscitate the apparently moribund concert music scene. I should clarify that I do not intend to or advocate the “destruction” of the “museum.” Museums are very nice places and have their place in society. They provide a way for us to experience and learn from the living art of the past. The symphony orchestra, the repertory opera company and the chamber music and recital series have their place in our world and must not be repudiated. They can, however, be transformed by the Guerrilla spirit and be revitalized by it. The Guerrilla Musician can have his cake and eat it, too.
The Guerrilla Musician must be savvy. S/He must not rely solely on government funding for financial support or on the traditional print media for critical and promotional support. We have at our disposal incredible new resources of media dissemination and audience building that have democratized opinion and taste. At very little expense, the Guerrilla Musician can advertise through social media in a way that would have required an extensive support network just fifteen years ago. We must learn to use these tools to our advantage and to the advantage of our art. Through the use of Facebook, My Space, Linkdin and Reverb Nation I, personally, have been able to expand my reach as a composer and develop relationships with musicians, presenters and promoters across the globe, yielding opportunities throughout the United States, Germany, Denmark, Holland and the United Kingdom. Great Noise Ensemble itself was founded using social media in the form of a simple classified ad on the web site Craig’s List.com and we have used services like Google and Facebook to expand our audience through online advertising and press releases.
The world is changing rapidly. Musicians have lost many of the formerly existing avenues for the promotion and dissemination of their work. Musicians, however, are nothing if not adaptable. A guerrilla sensibility as I define it is crucial for the survival of the contemporary musician. Mere survival, however, is not the Guerrilla Musician’s goal. No. His/her goal should be the total transformation of our musical culture. If art reflects the soul of a nation, then it is our patriotic responsibility to create art that represents the type of soul we want our nation to have. Just as man cannot live on bread alone, neither can he live solely on Lady Gaga. A spiritually healthy nation is a nation with a polyglot audience, and a polyglot audience, like a Guerrilla Musician, should be flexible, savvy, smart and as comfortable in the concert hall as they are in the night club. Contemporary musicians, especially composers, have long failed our audience by sitting in a corner lamenting our state and letting a single strain of our varied and exciting musical traditions control the marketplace. Contemporary music may never share as large a share of that marketplace as the top 40 (or its 21st century equivalent), but through guerrilla music making we can reclaim a more prominent place in that market and in the cultural life of our nation.
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Speaking of competitions:
Seattle Symphony Celebrate Asia! announces its first Seattle Symphony Celebrate Asia! Composer Competition. The Competition seeks to promote young composers who are interested in Asian culture, music and traditions.
In partnership with numerous local community groups, Seattle Symphony honors and celebrates Seattle’s Asian community with an annual Celebrate Asia! event. The concept originated in 2008, when local Asian leaders wanted to find a way to strengthen bonds with the broader community through a cultural celebration. Celebrate Asia! is part of Seattle Symphony’s Around the World series.
Seattle Symphony, presenting its 108th season, has been under the artistic leadership of Music Director Gerard Schwarz since 1985. Maestro Schwarz has led Seattle Symphony to international prominence, with more than 125 recordings, 12 Grammy nominations, 2 Emmys and numerous awards. Maestro Schwarz celebrates his Farewell Season as Music Director in 2010–2011, after which he will become Conductor Laureate. Newly named Music Director Designate Ludovic Morlot will begin his role as Music Director in the 2011–2012 season. The Orchestra performs in the acoustically superb Benaroya Hall in downtown Seattle. The Symphony is internationally recognized for its adventurous programming of contemporary works, its devotion to the classics, and its extensive recording history. From September through July, the Symphony is heard live by more than 315,000 people.
Award and Performance
The winning composer will receive a $1,000 cash award and an opportunity to visit Seattle for the world premiere. The winning score will be performed by Seattle Symphony and conductor Carolyn Kuan on January 14, 2011, in Benaroya Hall at the annual Celebrate Asia! concert.
All composers born after January 1, 1968, are eligible.
Gerard Schwarz, Seattle Symphony Music Director
Elena Dubinets, Seattle Symphony Vice President of Artistic Planning
Carolyn Kuan, Celebrate Asia! Conductor
Samuel Jones, Seattle Symphony Composer in Residence
Entry Fee and Deadline
- Works must have Asian influences (for example: Asian folk melodies, Asian stories and legends, Asian traditional instruments).
- Works must be original and accessible.
- Works should be 3 to 6 minutes in duration. (30 minutes rehearsal time is currently scheduled for the composition.)
- Works should be for orchestra or chamber orchestra with instrumentation no larger than 3333 – 4331 – T+3 – hp – kybd – str. Woodwind doublings are allowed.
- Interested composers should submit:
- - A legible, bound, full score
- - A recording of the piece on a CD (midi-format is OK)
- - A clear description of the composition’s Asian influence(s)
- - A biography, with current address, e-mail address, and phone number
- - If selected, professionally prepared parts will be required 60 days before the concert.
There is no entry fee. All entries must arrive no later than Friday, September 24, 2010. Seattle Symphony Celebrate Asia! is not responsible for lost or damaged material. The winning composition will be announced before Friday, October 22, 2010.
Send submission to:
Seattle Symphony Celebrate Asia! Composer Competition
ATTN: Amy Stagno
P.O. Box 21906
Seattle, WA 98111-3669
Questions and inquiries may be emailed to: email@example.com
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I am having trouble starting this piece. I’m almost done with it, in fact, but I can’t seem to get it started. It is a piece for an unusual combination, commissioned by the Amsterdam based ensemble, Hexnut, which specializes in a kind of jazz and world music inspired style of performance that is frenetic and more than a little theatrical. After a few false starts that led to a drastic change in the piece’s concept, I arrived at a solution of what the piece should be: a set of eight, short (none more than 2 minutes, one is only 15 seconds long) pieces each commenting on an etching from Francisco de Goya’s 1799 collection, Los Caprichos.
The piece has been written largely out of order, but, as the individual movements have been completed I’ve managed to collect them in a cohesive and I hope dramatically satisfying order. I still need, however, an opener, and that’s where I’ve gotten stuck. Ugh!
It’s not unusual for me to get stuck at the beginning. I used to compose from beginning to end. Certain pieces still work out that way, in fact, but increasingly I find it easier to pick up a piece in media res and build outwards from the middle, towards the edges. Working in this way helps me to organize my musical materials effectively and organically without having to work out the opening or ending of a piece right away. Endings are easy to write, for me at least, especially once I have the middle, since that tends to dictate the direction my pieces need to head towards. Openings, on the other hand, are quite difficult, I find. They need to both draw the audience into the performance of a work and set up the musical argument to come. A lot is made out of effective endings, but an effective opening is, if not more important, at least just as important .
How do you do it?
NOW it’s an Event!
On Wednesday, June 16, the Peabody Institute (where I teach in the music theory department) approved the budget for a theory department sponsored residency for Louis Andriessen in association with Great Noise Ensemble’s performance of De Materie on October 24, 2010. That means that for the week preceding our performance (we’ve yet to finalize dates for the Peabody events as of this writing, so stay tuned) Louis will be in residence at the Peabody working with students in my graduate Minimalism seminar, giving a lecture to the composition seminar and other activities similar activities as yet to be determined. We will also have the pleasure (both exciting and slightly terrifying to me) of having him present at rehearsals for Materie in Washington as well as at the final performance, not to mention a second performance of Andriessen’s music in Baltimore with student ensembles from the Peabody Institute.
Yep, it’s an event all right!