The New Year - Topic Suggestions?

Kenneth D. Froelich is still alive and kicking.

Happy 2010 everyone! I am currently wrapping up my brief "internet" vacation, and will return to "The Electric Semiquaver" in around two weeks. In the meantime, I would like to offer those of you reading an opportunity to suggest topics that you would like for me to discuss in an upcoming post. Please respond to this posting with your suggestions, and - assuming that I can figure out something useful to say on the topic - will be happy to discuss it!

Annie Gosfield: Student Advisor

This morning, I had the great pleasure of reading the following article by composer Annie Gosfield.

While many composers are asked this question on a regular basis, I found Ms. Gosfield's highly articulate and overall atypical response to be quite refreshing. This article should be required reading for all student composers out there.

Indecision Making

Ways to use Sibelius and Finale to aid in the composition decision-making process.

Allow me to share a little secret with you: I hate making decisions. More specifically, I hate the nervous energy, the anxiety and, the often overwhelming pressure that accompanies decision-making. However, I thoroughly enjoy having MADE a decision. There is a tremendous amount of satisfaction that comes from having finally decided what to do and/or how to proceed in a given situation - especially if it turns out to be the "right" one (although even the "wrong" decision can sometimes lead to serendipitous results!).

So, it is ironic that I find myself a composer, which at its most basic level is an art comprised completely out of decision making. These decisions occur at all levels of the composition process: Do I compose for a string quartet or a saxophone quartet? Do I start fast, slow, or somewhere in-between? Will my first note be a B, a B-flat, or any of the other ten notes available to me (assuming I've chosen to use a well-tempered tuning system)? So. Much. Pressure!

The above examples, though, are somewhat superficial when compared to the big decisions that a composer must inevitably face when in the depths of the creative process. The big question that I am eluding to here is, quite simply: "What happens next?" This is a question that we all wrestle with frequently when composing. We write a section of music, and then find ourselves stuck trying to figure out where the music should go in the next section. Should the music change? Should it repeat? Should it extend what has already happened? Should it introduce a new idea? These are all questions that we all might have when reaching this moment of compositional indecision.

In actuality, we really only have two concrete choices to make as composers when we get to this point:

1. Do I develop what I currently have?, or
2. Do I contrast what I have with something different?

This fundamental dichotomy - to continue or to change - is the basis upon which all other decisions stem from. For example, if one were to continue onward with a new section that functions as a continuation of the previous section, then further decisions need to be as to what developmental techniques and processes should be used. Conversely, if one were to change up the music with a contrasting idea, then additional decisions need to then be made as to what changes need to be made to ensure ENOUGH contrast is established. It is important to note that both of these paths begin with the original idea, and that even if one chooses to contrast their original idea with something new, that new idea should still be linked to the original as a RESPONSE to it.

Both Finale and Sibelius offer the composer a unique tool in dealing with this decision making process: the ability to "audition" several different approaches before choosing which path to take. Using playback, one can compose several different "paths" for the music to take, and then audition each one in turn. While I often caution students to not overuse playback, using it as a way to hear multiple variations of an idea can be quite useful when trying to make a concrete decision. The danger here is that if one listens to the SAME idea too many times, it is possible to convince yourself that this is the only path for the music - all other ideas will begin to sound incorrect, even if they are in fact better choices. Avoid this by listening to all possibilities equally until a decision has been made.

Sibelius offers a second tool here that can greatly aid in the decision making process - the "Ideas" panel. I mentioned a while back that I had yet to use this tool, but always believed that it could be very useful given the right circumstances. Having now incorporated it into my work flow, I now firmly stand by that belief. It is all too often that I will create a musical idea or motive without knowing exactly where this idea will fit. By placing these musical fragments into the ideas panel, I can now streamline my decision process by referring to the ideas panel whenever these key decisions arrive.

Either of the aforementioned decision paths - to continue or to change - can be assisted through this tool. Assuming that I would at some point want to continue with my existing idea through development, I will always ensure that the ideas panel contains my original musical motive as a reference point (a practice which I recently began and now do with every piece that I write). This can be especially useful if my music has developed to the point where the original motive is almost unrecognizable. Having a convenient location to reference this motive is incredibly useful, and serves as a reminder for me as to where all of this music originally stemmed from. Likewise, assuming I will eventually want to contrast my current music with something new, I will also ensure that my ideas panel contains additional motives and concepts that I came up with in the early sketching stages of the piece. Using the ideas panel in this way has the added benefit that all of these ideas can be auditioned within the panel itself before bringing them directly into the music.

While none of these tools will replace the composer's responsibility to actually make the decision, being able to audition these ideas through both playback and the ideas panel allows for the composer to possibly make a more educated decision - especially when combined with good compositional technique and a good ear! In the end, it is the composer's duty to ensure that several possible outcomes have been considered at each key point in the music before a proper decision has been made. A decision doesn't need to be rushed, and while a little "analysis paralysis" might occur as a result of too much consideration, making a quick and hasty decision is a far worse possibility. These compositional decisions are what will inevitably separate a good piece of music from a great one, even if at times they can seem agonizingly difficult.

Thanksgiving Wishes

Today is Thanksgiving (at least here in the United States), so I thought it might be appropriate to send my thanks out to all of you who have supported this blog! As you may have noticed, I have been a bit delinquent in posting this month. Do not worry - I am still here, and do intend to continue posting with regularity! Look for two new posts in early December.



In the meantime, have a great holiday and Tofurky!

FAT musings

A few random thoughts on composing and editing while waiting at the Fresno Air Terminal (FAT).

As a composer, I seem to spend quite a bit of time at the airport. Not traveling, necessarily - but rather sitting and waiting to travel. Ironically, I will be spending more time today at the Fresno Air Terminal (which bears the unfortunate abbreviation of F-A-T) then I will on my actual flight up to Portland.

Of course, with all of this spare time waiting, it would seem like a great time to crack open the computer and compose a little bit, right? Unfortunately, as a composer who likes to have a very specific set up when working, the end result is that my ability to compose (at least in Sibelius) isn't very portable. I have my laptop, yes - but I don't have my keyboard controller (nor do I own one that is truly portable), and - oddly enough - my laptop isn't the computer that I use to compose on anyways. I know - strange. But, that is what I am comfortable using, and I am not about to change that any time soon.

This is why I bring a print out of anything that I am working with me when I travel. Composing on the computer may be my main compositional approach, but when I am on the road I like to work on my music the old fashioned way, with pencil in one hand and a big "fat" red pen in the other. The music that I write during this time ends up getting sketched into the blank measures that are at the end of the score, often resulting with many bizarre scribbles, scratch outs, and pictures that might be more like hieroglyphics than music notation. Additionally, editing seems like a much less painful process for me during this time, and as a result the red pen ends up getting quite a bit of use as notes are changed, stripped out, added in, and transformed. Upon returning home, I often will find myself with an inordinate amount of new material, as well as edited material, all to translate and incorporate into my digitized score.

The strange truth is that by doing this, I believe that my music becomes all the better for having gone through this process. Looking at the printed music on paper, editing what I have with a nice RED pen, and writing new music by hand - even for just a brief period of time - all seem to help me gain a new perspective on my music that I wouldn't have had if I had composed it out in its entirety on the computer. It could be as simple as the temporary change of venue, but I honestly believe that by forcing myself to look at my music using different methods, I end up creating a better piece.

I often muse to myself that I should bring my music "on the road" with me more often - even if it is a simple road trip to the California coast. The truth is that I really do enjoy these brief periods where I look at my music in a more "traditional" light. The change of perspective isn't just helpful - it is needed. It serves as a "reality check" of sorts for me, to ensure that my music hasn't become some sort of computerized monstrosity.

For those of you reading, I might suggest that you find your own way to allow yourselves these brief "computer" vacations - where you break out the pen and pencil yourself and work on your score free from the trappings that these programs can occasionally thrust you into. This is especially so if you find yourself like me, trapped in one specific location and unable to compose anywhere but your own personal workstation. Occasionally allowing yourself these moments may translate into a unique new idea for your composition, a new perspective that simply wasn't evident before, or complete new music that you wouldn't have come up with any other way.

So, if you'll excuse me, I am going to break out my printed score now and sit at the airport bar for a while - red pen in one hand, and a nice black coffee in the other. How romantic.

Hell Mouth

It isn't often that we have an opportunity to read the inner thoughts and musings of an internationally recognized top-tier composer. John Adams' new blog, "Hell Mouth," does just that:

http://www.earbox.com/posts

This blog is a must-read, if only because it allows us a chance to further understand Mr. Adams' unique perspective of the world. I have enjoyed reading each and everyone of his posts, and invite all of you to do the same!

Form vs. F1

How to manage the pacing and form of your Sibelius composition.

It is amazing to me how quickly this Fall season is passing. Just this past week, we had our first tule fog here in the San Joaquin Valley, meaning that Fresno's relatively mild Winter is just around the corner. Only three weeks ago, we had 100+ degree temperatures. To me, that just seems like bad pacing. Surely it wouldn't have hurt to spend a bit more time in Autumn, with its seventy-odd degree temperatures, clear smogless skies, and beautiful mountain vistas.

Believe it or not, this mindless diatribe about the weather is actually relevant to my discussion today about musical form. For me, musical form is directly related to two distinct topics: pacing and musical contrast. Like the seasons, a good piece of music should contain distinct, tangible changes from section to section in order to be identifiable as new sections. Likewise, the pacing of each section should be adequate enough to ensure that the listener has had "just enough of the good stuff" (as opposed to the aforementioned Autumn that simply wasn't long enough!).

Before I go too far on this topic, I need to confess something first: I am not a huge fan of ABA structures. This standard approach to form - one of statement, contrast/development, and restatement - is, in my opinion, overdone. Clearly, there is a good reason for the prevalence of this structure, as a typical ABA piece will allow for a consistent and transparent, albeit overused, musical rhetoric. However, for me personally it is far more interesting to develop a musical rhetoric that avoids this model. AB structures, for instance hold a tremendous amount of rhetorical possibility by simply omitting any sense of return. Each section becomes its own individualized journey, leading you to various "points of no return" along the way. This does mean that your individual A and B sections need to be larger and more fully developed by comparison, though, and that is where we come to the topic of pacing and form.

Probably the single BEST use of MIDI playback is its ability to give the composer a very quick and concise understanding of the music's pacing. Even though the timbres and balances of playback are not the best representation of one's music, the sense of pacing that one gets from MIDI playback is surprisingly accurate. Using playback, it can very easy to tell whether a section of music is too short, too long, or "just right." This helps out the composer immeasurably when trying to shape the form of the piece, as it can be very evident when it is either time to move on to a new section, or when the previous section needs further development.

The key to this, though, is practice. Understanding one's own musical pacing is a learned skill, and in order to improve this skill, a composer needs to constantly check and double-check whether or not their is ENOUGH music. More often than not, the young composer errs on the side of rushing through a section, rather than having too much. In fact, it is quite difficult - although not impossible by any means - to have TOO MUCH music in a section. Finding the pacing "sweet spot," that is the point where the section of music feels just right, is as much a learned skill as learning to compose on the whole or learning to play an instrument. Playback will help with this, but the composer must develop their own sense of musicality in order to truly be able to comprehend what they are hearing, and thus make good choices as to the amount of music that is needed in a given section.

Oddly enough, knowing how to compose a well-paced section of music is actually the beginning step in learning how to create a good form in Sibelius and Finale - not the end goal. Once this skill is developed, the composer is suddenly armed with a tremendous amount of resources available to them. The composer can INTENTIONALLY CHOOSE to shorten or lengthen a section for emotional effect. It is quite jarring to establish a well-paced section of music, only to intentionally cut it short - interrupt with another section of music. Likewise, the composer can stretch out an already well-paced section to the point where it becomes monotonous to create a sense of obsession or endlessness. It is at this point that the composer is able to take control of their own form, and break free of traditional conventions like ABA or simple song forms.

Sibelius and Finale are incredibly good tools for this process. As stated above, the composer first needs to be able to develop their own sense of pacing - either with or without the assistance of MIDI playback. Afterwards, the composer can then use tools such as "Copy/Paste," and the "R" key (Sib.) to establish repetition as a point of rhetoric. As I discuss in my prior blog posting "Rinse and Repeat (July, 2009), repetition on its own can be a great tool as long as enough variation is included in the process. Using these tools of repetition, the composer can chop up, extend, interpolate, fragment, and otherwise completely disassemble and reassemble previously created sections of music to create a related, yet still-contrasting musical section. Essentially, this allows for the composer to develop their music using the tools natively embedded in music notation software.

Eventually, though, true contrast is needed for a piece of music to continue forward. This can be done one of two ways - through continuous development, or through the introduction of contrasting material. Either of these are valid methods, as they both allow for the creation of a true "B" section - that is, a section of music that is motivically and harmonically distinct from the "A" material. At this point, I often choose to mark this point in my Sibelius score, usually with a double-line. This helps to identify the new section as separate from the old - a point where the music goes in a new direction. Other elements - tempo, dynamics, texture, etc. - will likely change as well to help reinforce this new section.

Taking a step back from this process, it can sometimes feel overwhelming to comprehend the entire form of a piece while looking at only a few measures at a time. It is at this point that the composer needs to literally get a "bird's-eye" view of their entire piece, either physically (through print-outs) or virtually (by zooming out on the computer screen). I (as well as many of you readers!) give a few suggestions on how to deal with this in my post "The Big Picture (July, 2009)." I'm not going to rehash my comments, but rather simply state that it is important to find a method that allows one to get a hold of the entire piece in one viewing - literally, all at once! Even if the notes are indistinguishable from one another, seeing the shapes, the relative "darks and lights" that come from black and white notes, and the presence of space in the piece are all incredibly useful in understanding how the form of one's own piece works. Once this has been done, decisions can then be made about if any one section needs to return further, if one section predominates too much, or if the form even makes any sense!

Having said all this, I would like to return to my initial comparison of pacing and the weather. Although we may differ on what kind of weather we prefer, one thing that most of us recognize is that too much of any one weather pattern - regardless of whether we like it or not - can become quite oppressive over time. Likewise, a weather pattern that is here and gone in too short a period of time can feel unsatisfactory and fleeting. Musical form operates the exact same way. As the composer, one should take the time to allow an enjoyable section of music to go on for just enough time so that it feels satisfying, but not so long that it becomes oppressive.

Now, if only we could have some more rain.