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Archive for the ‘Mira’ Category

Day 31. Berio.

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

Mira’s love of box-sets (or at least large spines) continues with the second set of Berio Sequenzas I have (on Mode records with other solo pieces), and she also grabbed the DG 20/21 recordings of ‘Sinfonia’ and ‘Coro’.

When I first started grad school, Richard Karpen would gather all of his students together every other week for a group meeting, and often we would listen to a piece and read a score. ‘Coro’ was one of those pieces. The opening five or six minutes begins like a song for voice and piano, then explodes into more typical Berio orchestral colors. I don’t mean the word ‘typical’ here to sound disparaging… but Berio’s orchestral writing has a clear, crisp sound that is one of the more recognizable voices in 20th century writing. His orchestration is almost like some of the great jazz player’s sounds – you can hear Coltrane when he plays tenor sax, and Dizzy Gillespie is the only one that sounds like Dizzy Gillespie. And in the same vain Berio’s orchestral writing can be identified… such a pristine and clear musical voice, even when expressing complex and dense textures. While I had been sent to Berio to look at solo instrumental writing already (mostly through the ‘Sequenzas’), seeing his orchestral scores (and his vocal writing in this piece, which requires the singers to be seated within the orchestra) presented a number of challenges to me. I had just finished an orchestral work a couple years before during by BA at Berkeley, and thought that one of the things I would be doing a lot of at UW would be writing orchestra works. At this meeting, where we all listened to ‘Coro’, the question was thrown at us… ‘Is there anything left for the orchestra to say that is new?’ … and if there is, how do we do it?

I remember thinking that innovation needs work, and that I couldn’t believe that there is ‘nothing left for the orchestra to say’. And I still believe that. The reality that struck me later that year though, was which orchestras want to try and find that new language? Gerard Schwarz (the director of the Seattle Symphony) talked to the music students at UW that year as well, and when asked why he doesn’t program more new music (or even give readings) he given a simple response… he said that he loved programming new music and he listed a number of composers that he liked to program because ‘they gave the audience familiar yet new sounds’. In other words, any composer that may be trying to find something new to say with orchestra won’t be getting played in Seattle while Gerard Schwarz was conducting. It was all ‘new music’ with a romantic voice. As his tenure comes to an end, I wonder if that will change? Are there examples of other major orchestras that do take an adventurous view? How many in the US would even perform ‘Coro’, a work now 35 years old and almost conservative by modern avant-garde tastes? Can a piece like this survive if it isn’t getting played? Is the recording it’s end all be all?

So it is no wonder that most composers work on solo or smaller chamber works. Personally, it is how my work gets performed. I would love to dive into a work for orchestra, but I also can’t imagine working on a piece that may never get played. While ‘Coro’ is a rarity in the concert hall, and we have to rely on a couple of versions to get an idea of what can be done with the work as far as interpretation goes, the Sequenzas have had a much more successful concert life. This second set I have features performances by Stuart Dempster (who the trombone Sequenza was written for) as well as Garth Knox and Irvine Arditti. Some wonderful playing in this set to say the least.

Day 27. Arvo Pärt.

Sunday, February 14th, 2010

Right before Celia was born I began looking for discs that we could play for her that would let her know it was bedtime. I figured if we had a few discs that we could play for her every night she would take become accustomed to hearing certain pieces of music and associating them with sleep. The first disc that wound up in her CD player was Arvo Pärt’s ‘Alina’ with three versions of ‘Spiegel Im Spiegel’ and two versions of extended performances of ‘Fur Alina’. I think that disc was in Celia’s CD player for almost 4 years. When Mira was born, a copy was put into HER bedroom CD player (where it still sits). Celia has moved on to Dowland or Bach for her bedtime listening, but every night for about 5 years now, I have heard Arvo Pärt’s ‘Alina’ either during story time or over sound monitors. On one hand, once you know the music it can disappear into the background easy enough. On the other, the music is simply beautiful and I can lay there, holding my girls for a few minutes before they go to sleep and listen to the music.

At one point I mentally dictated ‘Spiegel In Spiegel’ in my head. When I first heard it I just thought of the piece as a simplified ‘Moonlight Sonata’. For the most part it really hasn’t stood up that well for me. It doesn’t bother me, but I don’t find it to be an amazing piece. It is great for the girls to fall asleep to though… simple, calming and pretty. ‘Fur Alina’ on the other hand (and specifically the recordings on this disc – extended improvisations on a two minutes piece that stretch on for about 10-11 minutes each) is a stunningly beautiful work. I actually think this performance is a masterpiece. It sounds so simple, and the piece itself analyzes quite easily. After B octaves in the low end of the piano, the upper voice moves in a stepwise B minor melody against a broken B minor triad in the right hand, all in the upper part of the piano. It seems ‘Ode To Joy’ simple, but I imagine it took an immense amount of revision to arrive at. This piece marked Pärt’s change of style in the ’70s, and it was a drastic one. From a serial complexity to a simplicity that, from a composers point of view, is extremely difficult to achieve.

If I finish reading to one of the girls and ‘Fur Alina’ is on, I lay and listen to it through. The piece makes the piano vibrate a shimmery B minor, and the music is a beautiful mixture of dissonant 9ths and resonant minor chords. The music almost always reminds me of my first trip to Copenhagen. It was my first trip to Europe and on my first morning there (a Sunday morning) I walked out of the hotel to explore a little. I wound up standing in a large snow covered courtyard surrounded by old buildings and cold, quiet air:

I didn’t see another person for probably an hour when I got back to the hotel with some very cold feet and fingers. It was an amazingly peaceful feeling mixed with drowsiness from jetlag. And I get this feeling of cold expanse mixed with calm when I hear this music. Then, I wrap my arms around my little girls to make sure they are warm and comfortable for a good night’s sleep.

Day 25. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.

Friday, February 12th, 2010


I was 9 when ‘Born In The USA’ came out and I got the LP that year for Christmas. Two years later the live box set (’75 – ’85) came out and it was that year’s Christmas present as well. While ‘Born In The USA’ is a good album, when I got the box set all of the pre-‘Born In The USA’ stuff was finally introduced to me. My dad had ‘Born To Run’ but I don’t really remember hearing it growing up. But that morning after I broke open the shrink wrap, my dad grabbed the second disc and immediately put on ‘Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)’. I felt like this was a completely different Bruce Springsteen and I saw the E Street Band as more then just the backing group. Hearing how all of these guys played together (and how Springsteen introduced all of them in the middle of ‘Rosalita’) made the group seem more like a hard working team. Stories of 3-4 hours concerts and the energy on these live recordings seemed super-human to me, and I wanted to be able to do this. It was these records that made me REALLY want to be in a rock band.

I bought ‘Greetings From Asbury Park’ and ‘The Wild, The Innocent And The E Street Shuffle’ on LP that next year, and I’m pretty sure I basically let my dad’s ‘Born To Run’ disappear into my collection. Except disappear wouldn’t be the right word since I played it pretty constantly. And these three albums have never really left my music rotation. In Nick Hornby’s book ‘Songbook’, he talks about how ‘Thunder Road’ is the song he has played more then any other song in his life. And it is a great song… easily one of my favorites. And I wouldn’t be surprised if it is in my top 50 songs as well. But I am almost positive that ‘Rosalita’ is in the top 10. If I’m doing work and need a kick to get going again, I put on ‘Rosalita’. If I have a little bit of time alone and want to play something loudly, ‘Rosalita’ is close to the top of the list. I’ve listened to this song for 25 years of my life, and I’m stunned how good I still think it is.

But as much as I love ‘Rosalita’, my favorite Springsteen song is on ‘Greetings From Asbury Park’. When I first moved Roseville from San Jose, for some reason I put on ‘Greetings From Asbury Park’ right after I got my stereo set up in my new bedroom. And while I was unpacking, ‘For You’ caught my ear and I stopped for a few minutes and listened. I remembered this moment when I first moved to Berkeley and started renting a room on Page Street. This time, I was living on my own for the first time and moving to the Bay Area (with little money and a low paying job) for many reasons. I wanted to be a musician, I wanted to go to UC Berkeley, and I didn’t want to move to Texas with my parents. But the main reason, the one that really makes the reasons above look like excuses to satisfy parents and others, was that I wanted to live and be with Tamiko. As I was unpacking, I remembered putting ‘For You’ on when I first moved to Roseville (where Tamiko and I would meet) and I immediately got my stereo hooked up, speakers plugged in, and put on ‘Greetings From Asbury Park’. I have done this as a bit of a ritual since then… every place I have moved the stereo is one of the first things set up, I dig out the LP, and I play ‘For You’. It makes wherever I am, whatever new strange apartment or house feel like home within a couple of minutes. And it reminds me that while I am a composer, musician, teacher and many other things, when it all comes down to it I am Tamiko’s husband and now the father to our kids. I can’t imagine being anything else to anyone else… I’m very lucky.

Day 15. John Coltrane.

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010


Where yesterday’s entry had me being nostalgic about the packaging of Astor Piazzolla’s last few discs, tonight’s packaging covers the other end of the spectrum. John Coltrane’s ‘The Classic Quartet – Complete Impulse! Studio Recordings’ appears to be a packaging marvel. A metallic sheath around a brown leather binder that holds a huge stack of discs.

It is, without a doubt, the clumsiest package of CDs I have. The leather sticks (and holds on with a firm grip) to the metal. You have to pry the metal off the leather unless you have done so within the last 30 minutes. It then folds out to 4 (!) leather panels, one which has a booklet attached to it. But when I say attached, what I really mean is that it basically lacks all the adhesive quality that the leather / metal combo has. We’re talking a little bit of rubber cement holding a paper backing to leather.

Then there is what is actually in the box. ‘The Classic Quartet – Complete Impulse! Studio Recordings’ is quite literal… No live recordings of this amazing group (because the word ‘studio’ is in the title). The tracks are sometimes separated from longer complete albums where another performer may have sat in for a tune or two. So this box is in no way a complete set of Coltrane’s work on Impulse!, even during the time span it covers. Unlike other box sets it you don’t get the benefit of avoiding the purchase of the full discs. I bought this set the day it came out (eager to hear some of the bonus tracks of outtakes and to, I thought, fill out a few missing discs). But apparently I didn’t parse the words on the metal cover closely enough! In the ‘book of notes where the binding shall not break and the owner will never read the text against the margin’ there are a few comments about how special the years 1961-65 were for Coltrane, Jimmy Garrison, McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones (and ONLY THESE FOUR PEOPLE!) were. So – the label knew it was pulling a fast one, and finds ways to apologize for it in the booklet.

But – enough whining about packaging / marketing. When Mira and her love of all things box-set pointed to this collection tonight I was quite happy. I will not miss this packaging, but will GREATLY enjoy the new easy access to this music. Sure, there are tracks missing from this set, but as my collection moves to the level beyond CDs and 74 minute time limits that will all disappear. Sure – I will have two copies of  ‘A Love Supreme’ on my computer – the one from this set and the one that will later come from the Impulse! re-issue (that also contains outtakes with an expanded performer line-up). But it is ‘A Love Supreme’ that is taking that space up twice!!! One of the greatest musical monuments of 20th century music! And this is only the case if I don’t spend the 20 seconds it would take to remove the duplicate files… Really, tonight is one of the night’s where I really see how pulling everything off disc and onto the computer is a great move.

Coltrane is, simply put, one of my favorite musicians. And I might have more Coltrane then anyone else except for Beethoven and Bach. I would hunt for live recordings when I worked at Tower and am still surprised how much I paid for a few of them. I could probably write a couple hundred pages on Coltrane and how he has figured in my life as a musician and on a personal level. His music figures into some of my most vivid memories that are linked with music. It wouldn’t be hard for me to make a ‘Top Ten list of Coltrane memories’ and find that a good amount of those memories are in the ‘Top Ten memories of my life so far up to 35’ list. Lots of crossover. Partly because he is one of the musicians I have listened to more then just about any other musician (so, even by coincidence, there would be crossover) but also because Coltrane is usually on when I am feeling good or confident or in need of energy or in need of inspiration or in need of abandon or in need of mental stimulation or … the list can go on. He is a beautiful performer, and there are few others in recorded history who show such a sense of trajectory and evolution throughout their entire career. Listening to Coltrane is like listening to Beethoven. A few moments of his playing and I can usually tell it is him and about when the performance was recorded and often who he is playing with. He constantly challenged himself musically and personally and it is exciting to have recordings that give us a glimpse of that growth.

As I mentioned above the box covers the years 1961-65. All were recorded in Rudy Van Gelder’s studio in New Jersey. I have pretty much all this music on other discs that I will be pulling off later in this project (even a couple tomorrow that were next to the box-set that Mira chose) so I will spend much more time in the future talking about the music. But for now I am going to leave off with just what I have said above. All that while I listen to ‘Out Of This World’ originally released on the album ‘Coltrane’. This was recorded in 1961. Some of the stretching out in Coltrane’s playing is really beginning to come out in these recordings (which happen after his years with Atlantic which are smoother performance wise). There is the occasional ‘honk’ and ‘growl’ that was already appearing in his live performances (but rarely in his studio recordings). He is surrounded by three of the most amazing musicians he would ever record with, and that is saying something when you consider the legends Coltrane performed with! Playing a track of ‘Coltrane’ then jumping ahead to some of the tracks that would appear in ’65 on ‘Sun Ship’ really shows how Coltrane changed and grew in four years. There is almost 9 hours of music in this set – and it is a thrilling ride.

Day 8. J.S. Bach.

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010


Mira’s gravitation towards box sets continues, and today’s picks had to be pared down. She chose both the complete J.S. Bach organ works (17 discs) and the Miles Davis ‘Bitch’s Brew’ box set. Celia chose more Queen and Lou Reed… but due to the size of the Bach box I decided to put Miles, Queen and Lou Reed off until tomorrow.

The Bach set is one of two complete Bach organ works I have. The one from today is Peter Hurford’s London set. The different sets of compositions are also performed on organs throughout Europe. So in addition to hearing all of Bach’s organ works, you also get a great sense of how varied an instrument the organ can be. Organs are pretty unique instrument-wise. In some ways, they are like time-capsules. We know about how tuning has changed throughout history (since the pipes don’t easily go in and out of tune, unlike piano strings). It’s history goes back to the 3rd century B.C., and we can see in it’s key layout and construction how the concepts of scale and music theory evolved. It can be orchestrated, and a major part of the organist’s art is the control of registration. Yet, unlike a piano there is little control over dynamics. More stops will make things louder. More notes will make things louder. The swell box can make things louder. Hitting the keys harder – nothing. So when composing for the instrument the number of notes sounding can be an expressive as well as a textural consideration, and the organist can play with a touch that is most comfortable to them without worrying about how it will effect the dynamics of a performance.

During my time at UC Berkeley, I was lucky enough to have a class on Bach with Prof. John Butt, a wonderful teacher and organist. Watching him play was astonishing. His feet played as frantically as his hands did across multiple keyboards. As he came to new themes or sections in a piece, he would also change the stop configuration – the color and power of the instrument would change greatly just by pulling out a couple knobs. In Hertz Hall there were three organs (including a 17th century (?) Italian organ that sat right behind the double bass section on stage during orchestra rehearsals and concerts) and Prof. Butt’s favorite was situated above and behind the audience, which brings up another peculiarity of the instrument. While pianos rarely travel with a performer, concert organs NEVER do. An organist needs to learn the idiosyncrasies of each new instrument they come across for every performance. And you rarely get to SEE the performance. Organ lofts in churches weren’t designed so you could see the organ being played. They were often tucked away – and sometimes the organist might not even be able to hear the instrument well!

So to get a set like the Peter Hurford one is interesting on multiple levels. You get a tour of organs while also getting a tour of one of this instrument’s most amazing composers. I haven’t listened to this set for quite some time, and it is getting a little too late here to turn the volume to where it belongs. But I’m sure I’ll have more to say about these discs tomorrow after having some time to listen to it.

Day 3. Ella Fitzgerald and Luciano Berio.

Friday, January 22nd, 2010

Today’s picks come from Mira, and I am starting to notice that she is drawn to wider, more colorful packaging. I guess this means box sets will be ripped first.

The Berio recording I ripped tonight is the ‘complete’ Berio Sequenzas released on DG in 1998 (and I put the quote around complete because Berio composed a couple more after this). I had very little contact with Berio before coming to the University of Washington for grad school, and I was sent to Berio’s scores and recordings of performances of his music early on in my masters degree. I was beginning work on a piece for solo viola, and Richard Karpen scolded me for even thinking about composing works for a solo instrument without knowing these pieces. I wouldn’t be surprised even if he told me that I shouldn’t think about being a composer without knowing these pieces. But it is sufficient to say that I learned quickly that there were some serious holes in my knowledge of repertoire. Berio has become one of my favorite composers. I remember finding the Sequenzas quite uneven on my first listening to these performances (and still find some of these recordings flat). Studying the scores however was like looking at an encyclopedia of extended techniques for each instrument that he composed for. One of my most important lessons about music in general came from further listenings of these pieces. I was amazed how different performances could be, and I came to see the performance of new music not necessarily as a striving for a note perfect representation of dots on a page (where it was the responsibility of the composer to hyper-notate every nuance that is wanted) but as a relationship between composer, performer, performance history and performance practice. These pieces greatly changed how I viewed my role in the world as a composer, and this outlook still changes with every performance I have and piece I write. These pieces also taught me about how important the theatrical performance of a work is. While I have found recordings of these pieces that I enjoy listening to (there will be more writings about the Sequenzas here while the project goes on), seeing them performed (even rehearsed) adds so much to the listening of them. Seeing how a performer grapples with the technical and musical demands of this music is exhilarating.

Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘songbook’ collections came out on Verve first in the 50s and 60s on LP and were reissued on CD in the late 90s. A quick search on Wikipedia (to grab the above dates) also revealed that in 2000 this ALBUM was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame, and in 2003 the Library of Congress chose it as one of 50 recordings added to the National Recording Registry. To call this album a treasure is an understatement. It is one of the most beautifully compiled set of performances I think I own. I have played this music while closing the record store for the night, I have played tracks from it for my music theory students, and I have played it just about anytime I need something to lighten me up a bit. Personally, I believe these recordings were captured near the peak of Ella Fitzgerald’s career (along with the ‘Cote d’Azur’ recordings that were done with Duke Ellington). Her musicality is startling, and she may be one of the most perfect interpreters of Cole Porter’s music that I can think of. Her voice on ‘Miss Otis Regrets’ embodies the complexity of the story told in the lyrics, full of sorrow and relief at the same time. ‘You Do Something To Me’ and ‘Too Darn Hot’ embody what I imagine Manhattan sexy in the 50s must have been. But it is her version of ‘I Love Paris’ that is probably one of the top 10 songs that I get stuck in my head. Buddy Bergman’s orchestral arrangement does more the compliment Ella’s voice. This song achieves a stunning relationship between the singer and her accompaniment, rising well above a sum of the two parts. Having such a clear image of this song in my head is one of my most treasured musical memories.

Day 1. ABBA, Air, Elliott Smith, The Smiths, Mozart and R.E.M.

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

I want to avoid going through my whole collection and ripping the CDs in the order they are stored on my bookshelves. This does make packing the discs away a little tricky after I rip them, but it also gives me a wonderful randomness to this whole process. To make things a little more random, I went into the extra bedroom this morning at asked Celia and Mira to pull a few discs off the shelves. Celia went for some red spines (ABBA and Air), and Mira just went to the shelves and started to pull discs down. Whether or not Mira did this in response to my request isn’t known – this is what Mira does when she is around the CD shelves. Today, Mira grabbed off the The Smiths and Elliott Smith. R.E.M.’s ‘Automatic For The People’ was just above those and fell down with the ‘Smiths’, and I also grabbed ‘Marriage Of Figaro’.

I got ABBA for Tamiko some time ago (a download that I burned to disc), and I admit they are quite a guilty pleasure. It’s hard not to have fun when ABBA is playing. I remember listening to ABBA in spanish class in high school (ABBA Oro), and I love to hear Tamiko sing along with them. Celia loves to dance to them (and she loves to dance to Kylie Minogue, who I am sure would not be who she is without ABBA). And as Mira gets her feet under her, I imagine she’ll enjoy them too. What a stark contrast their music is to Elliott Smith’s. The two discs I ripped today were his first album (fairly dark, just Elliott and his guitar) and ‘From A Basement On A Hill’ (released after his suicide). His first album is a wonderful, moody record, and in hindsight probably hints at what will happen in his future. ‘From A Basement On A Hill’ is simply to sad for me to listen to. I have never even listened to the whole thing. When I first bought it, I got about halfway through it before I turned it off. It was just too sad for me at the time, and I have never brought myself to listen to the whole thing. The unfinished quality of what I remember hearing was quite fitting.

The Smith’s ‘The Queen Is Dead’ and R.E.M.’s ‘Automatic for the People’ both bring along lots of high school memories. Heavier on the R.E.M. side though. Not that I don’t appreciate The Smiths, but I was always more of an R.E.M. fan. And while I really got into R.E.M. with ‘Document’ and ‘Green’, ‘Automatic For The People’ was one of my favorite albums of theirs at the time it came out. I understand why it didn’t catch the ears of a lot of other R.E.M. fans, but the more acoustic, orchestrated feel of this album spoke to me at the time. A couple of weeks ago ‘Monty Got A Raw Deal’ was featured in an NPR interview about songs and game shows. And hearing only 30 seconds of the song left me wanting to hear the whole album again. ‘Man On The Moon’ doesn’t stand up as well for me now (a casualty of radio overplay) but ‘Try Not To Breathe’ and ‘Everybody Hurts’ strike me as even more amazing the I remember. And the strings in ‘Drive’ still sound unexpected to me… fresh and dark at the same time.

‘Marriage Of Figaro’ is one of my favorite operas. But over the past couple of years, I have started to feel it is just wrong to only listen to opera. It is such a visual and dramatic medium that so much is lost when you only hear it. A couple years ago I thought I would eventually want to replace all my opera recordings with DVDs, but when I finished transferring the disc today I played a few tracks (as part of my streaming test). And it is so amazing to hear this music. Sure, the visuals and staging are missing, but a Mozart aria has no problem standing on its own. The recording is a live one (with John Eliot Gardiner conducting, Bryn Terfel and Alison Hagley). I watched the video a couple of times during shifts in the video store at Tower, and it is an amazing performance. Gardiner shapes an amazing performance, and the sound quality is stunning. I look forward to listening to the whole thing again very soon.