A Composer’s Journal Entries January 15-18, 2005

Journal entries by composer and pianist Laurie Conrad

Moderator: figaro

Post Reply
figaro
Posts: 535
Joined: Sun Mar 27, 2005 12:45 am
Location: Ithaca, NY
Contact:

A Composer’s Journal Entries January 15-18, 2005

Post by figaro »

A Composer’s Journal Entries January 15-18, 2005

Saturday, January 15

3:40 a.m. Feeling better today. M. Xeroxed up the ms paper this morning. I’ve copied out the first 15 pages of the score. Making final decisions as I go. Am pleased.


Sunday, January 16

M. went to Windgarth today. The plumber tore the downstairs bathroom ceiling out & the rug people tore the rug up, so it could all dry. Good thing we had no tenants booked for the coming weeks.

Continue to copy out the score. An e-mail from Bob: the musicians had their first quintet rehearsal & they want me to come to the next one. I will try to be at every rehearsal they have in Ithaca. Coaxing the sounds & phrasings & tempi from the players & instruments is a part of the creating ...

Am now on page 23 of the score. Only 40 or so more to go. The cats and I are watching the flames in the coal stove. The flames are a reminder of the power & Mystery of the universe, the cats are entranced by them. The wood is not burning easily for some reason, & the relationship one develops with the fire at these times is fairly intense - especially when one isn’t feeling well & needs the heat. Far too easy to flick on the thermostat & forget the immensity around us, that which we call Nature.


Monday, January 17

12:10 a.m. Six or seven inches of snow fell today - it’s a fairyland outside. The back garden is lit up by the floodlights & is magical in its simplicity ... The forms of the winter garden now outlined by the new snow. I find myself walking to the windows, to gaze at the Day’s work, the lines of the grapevines turning so effortlessly & gracefully & now piled with their own fragile drifts of light snow as they weave through the arbor. The cement statue of Christ under the lilacs has its usual crown & shawl of snow - a tall miter-shaped crown & an ermine shawl of snow that covers His shoulders & upper chest. When the sun comes out tomorrow His face will be uncovered, but He will still have his miter & shawl - it is always this way.

The topiary fir trees are mounded, like mushrooms. It has almost dropped to zero degrees, so I will not shovel tonight. Although the night, the Beauty & Silence of the night are very tempting. Shaun brought more wood in today, so there is a happy fire as I continue to copy out the score. I am approaching page 30 & hope to do many more pages tonight. There is a sacred Presence filling the downstairs as I write.

More e-mails from Bob today, about the concert & rehearsals & halls. Diana wrote to say that she has finished formatting half of ROL. (My new book: Realms of Light).


Tuesday, January 18
3:37 a.m.

Myra e-mailed to say that she & Laura would be performing a few of the Visions (for flute & harp) in mid-February, did I want to go to the concert. I would like to go. I can’t remember where it will be, some nearby town I think ... I’d better ask her.

Visions. I had no intention of writing for the harp. I was out in one of the front gardens one summer day, & Myra pulled up in her car. She asked me if I would write something for her & Laura, something they could play at concerts & other playing jobs they might have. She said there was very little written for the harp - & that is when she got my attention. I had always assumed that the harp literature was vast, the instrument itself stretching back to olden times. She explained that the harp, as we know it, the pedal harp - is a young instrument, dating to the time of Debussy & Ravel. And that for the most part harpists played transcriptions of pieces originally written for other instruments.

I was astounded.

The thought of such a beautiful player having barely any literature to practice & perform struck me as sad & insupportable. I sat down at the piano & wrote hundreds of pages of music for harp that summer: Visions for harp & flute, a set of Images for flute harp & viola & also a song cycle for Mezzo & Baritone voices, harp & several other instruments.

So far we have only rehearsed & recorded Visions. But after the Prayer St. Michael is done, I will begin finishing the Images. I think I have one more to write - & later we will rehearse Images & the songs & record them all. While I am still alive, I feel it is important to have at least one recording of some of things I have written, so that future musicians will know how I wish them to sound. Then, they can have their own interpretation, of course - but at least they can work within a framework given by the composer. This was not possible before the age of recordings. Being a composer at this time in the history of our earth, I feel I should take advantage of this opportunity.

Musicians usually welcome playing new music, especially when the composer is available - but it is not an easy task for them. They have never heard the music before. Which was another reason for this recording of Visions - other players will have a far easier time learning the score, for the simple reason that their ears can help them. They will know what the pieces sound like before they even open the score.

Rehearsals for Visions were mainly held at my house, in my living room. One bonus was that often Myra left her big harp at my home, between concerts, so that she did not have to move it every few days. I often played on it, to try effects, & to see what octaves would sound best for certain passages. In addition, at Christmastime my living room looked like the stage of Tschaikovsky’s Nutcracker, the curves of the harp near the 7' Steinway piano, the gold of the harp reflected in the wood floor ... surrounded by wrapped presents and the strings of small, clear lights ...

When they rehearsed the Vision “A Bird in Winter”, the cats came in from the kitchen... We took that as a good sign. At first, the musicians were having a hard time understanding the piece - until I told Myra that she was the wind & snow & grey of winter, & Laura that she, as the bird, was cheerful & looking forward to spring. The bird should not be trying to imitate the moods of the harp. And then suddenly the piece was alive, & sounded as I had intended. In rehearsal, yes, there are discussions on articulations & phrasings & tempi etc. But I find that more often than not, a simple image can help the musicians more than all the technical instruction in the world.

When Myra played the opening of movement II. the first time, a descending whole tone scale - we worked a bit on it. Usually I will sing the passage or play it on the piano - this time I spoke & sang ... & when I stood back to listen to her play it, I said to myself : “O good, I can die now.” It is like that, when a musician grasps the essence of what you have written. Myra became so comfortable with my style of writing that after a while she was catching my mistakes in the written score, on her own ... Even though she had never before heard the pieces. When we got to rehearsals of Vision IX. (The Lighthouse) she sat down at her harp & said that she had been practicing Vision IX. in Provincetown: “The door to the cabin was open, & as I practiced the opening bars I could see the waves lapping the shore - & the rhythm of the waves exactly matched the music on the page. Every time I play those opening bars, I am transported to the beach in Provincetown.” What amazed me - was not only her joy & excitement & wonder at the mysterious connection between the waves & the musical score, but that she had noticed the rhythm of the waves while she was practicing ... And that in her deep, innate musicality, she stored that image in her mind so vividly that she could evoke it at will, in her playing ... Later in Vision IX. the waves become extended by several octaves, & very, very fast - as though pushed & stirred by the wind. But those opening measures were meant to be small, quiet waves lapping the shoreline ...

Laura, the flutist, is also an astounding player. She also, after a few words here & there, understood what I had written & played it as I inwardly had felt it when writing. Each rehearsal for Visions lasted for hours, & continued over the span many months, almost a year in all. Laura & Myra have played together for twenty or so years, & I much enjoyed watching their friendship as well as hearing them play. I was always impressed by Laura’s ability to hear every note of the harp - & the nuances & subtleties of pitch & phrasing she was capable of. Their ensemble playing was remarkable, even in the fast passages of Sprites & The Lighthouse. I said little during rehearsals, & only that which pertained to the writing & interpretation of my score - the rest they accomplished on their own.

It is difficult to explain this musical relationship to non-musicians - it is instinctive, but based on years & endless hours & years of perfecting the art & the technique of your instrument. And years of understanding the musical vocabulary, music itself. Then when true musicians meet, the relationship is deeper than can be expressed or explained. Even if one does not personally particularly like the other musician, all that disappears in an instant - both individuals are lost in the music. And this happens with orchestral & choral people as well. I have played next to musicians I could barely stand, or musicians I barely knew or cared to know, musicians I would most likely never see again on this earth. And yet when the piece began the interweaving of our instruments & the sounds around us unfolded & enveloped our own musical lines - all else disappeared. And in those minutes we were all united, one. United in a way not found elsewhere on this planet earth. That meeting, in music, is Heart to Heart & Soul to Soul. It is the same when I perform, I feel that same deep connection with the audience.

When I am feeling better I must get to the tv studio & finish the show on “Visions”. Right now I am trying to learn their digital equipment, so it is slow going. Basically, I am alone in a very small room with many machines, walls of machines that do not speak. Because they do not speak, I have no way of knowing what they are thinking or what they need in order to get the desired result. Therefore, with alarming regularity I must bother Lauren, the manager there, with my endless questions. When things are going well, it is like a small monastery. When everything gets snagged up I usually leave for a while & buy some decaf at the gas station along Rte 13. Whenever possible, I bring some for Lauren.

It’s below zero outside tonight, minus 30 with wind chill. Diana wrote from Dallas: “The snow sounds enchanting. I talked with Mabel today and she said the same thing about how beautiful and magical the snow looks. She has four deer and seven species of birds and a gaggle of wild turkeys that come into her yard, she said! I always loved the snow as long as I didn’t have to drive in it. So tell the snow angel spirits that I send my regards.”

M. read the last few Journal entries & said: “You know, after reading your Journal I see a connection between your shoveling in your pajamas & that the next day you were sick. The last thing I said to you that night was to ask Shaun to shovel in the morning.” I reread those passages, & it is true, there might be a connection.
Post Reply