In December I blogged about an arrangement of mine that we used in this year’s Lessons & Carols service at Church of the Servant. The hymn “The God of Abraham Praise” fits beautifully with the reading about the calling of Abraham, so I arranged it for string orchestra, oboe and flute. It worked so well that I convinced Robert Nordling to commission a full arrangement for the Calvin College Orchestra. It will premiere Saturday, March 5 at 8pm in the Covenant Fine Arts Center. I hope to see you there. In the meantime, you can listen to Finalified MP3.
Category: Art Music
My friend Carlos Colón-Quintana was kind enough to commission a new choral work for an upcoming concert at Baylor University. The concert is an interesting mix of children’s choir, fiddle, barbershop quartet, and strings, unified around the theme of William Walker’s Southern Harmony. I decided to write an arrangement of “The Christian’s Farewell,” which most of us know as “How Firm a Foundation.”
There was a point about a week ago at which I was having doubts that I could coax this into a finished composition that did justice to the depth of the text and the simplicity of the melody. But now I’m really pleased with how it turned out. (And, no, I don’t always say that.)
Having complimented myself on the score, I’ll quickly add that I’m not particularly proud of the demo included here. It’s a combination of Finale playing the instruments and me singing both the children’s and men’s choir parts. But, hey–you work with what you’ve got. Take a listen to the demo or read the lyrics below.
1. Farewell, my dear brethren, the time is at hand
That we must be parted from this social band;
Our sev’ral engagements now call us away,
Our parting is needful, and we must obey.
2. Farewell, faithful soldiers, you’ll soon be discharged,
The war will be ended, your bounty enlarged,
With shouting and singing, though Jordan may roar,
You’ll enter fair Canaan, and rest on the shore. Farewell.
3. Farewell, younger brethren, just listed for war,
Sore trials await you, but Jesus is near;
Although you must travel the dark wilderness,
Your Captain’s before you, he’ll lead you to peace.
4. Farewell, trembling mourners, with sad, broken hearts,
O hasten to Jesus, and choose the good part!
He’s full of compassion, and mighty to save,
His arms are extended, your souls to receive.
6. Farewell, my dear brethren, farewell all around,
Perhaps we’ll not meet till the last trump shall sound.
To meet you in glory I give you my hand,
Our Savior to praise in a pure social band.
Categories
Two Inventions
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then imitating imitative counterpoint must be utter musical sycophancy.
Let’s just say that in the 90s I went through a Bach phase. I studied counterpoint, read through Riemenschneider’s 371 Bach Chorales collection, and pretty much every piece I wrote was an homage to the man. That’s not all bad, of course. For years, composers have studied the masters to hone their own craft. And in my case, studying Bach counterpoint blossomed into a series of inventions, rhythmic metamorphoses, and crossfades that I still like today.
But it all got started with some pieces imitating Bach’s inventions for piano. Here are my imitatively flattering Invention #1 (MP3, PDF) and Invention #3 (MP3, PDF).
Long before I became the composer of music my mother generally enjoys, I was the composer of music my mother generally responded to with non-committal accolades like “Did it sound like you wanted it to?” (I.e. “Please tell me they played it wrong.”) Some call my early compositions “scary monster music.” I like to think of it as street cred.
But let’s not dally on questions of whether I’ve sold out or seen the light; let’s get right to the music. One of my compositions from my grad school days was called “Dinosaur,” so named because it was thin on one end, much much thicker in the middle, and thin again on the other end. It’s an aleatoric composition, which means that instead of reading from a score that tells exactly which pitches to play and when, the musicians are given small chunks of music and freedom to improvise within certain parameters. For example, “repeat this phrase for the next 20 seconds” or “improvise on this scale in duet with the Violin 2.” Perhaps the most famous example of aleatory is Terry Riley’s In C.
Take a listen to the Carnegie Mellon University New Music Ensemble taking on a scary monster, in this case a Dinosaur.
Categories
Death Swallowed by the Real Good
An Easter meditation
Words by Amy Scheer
Soundscape by Greg Scheer
In memory of Kenneth J. Phillips (1919-1998)
And with thanks to I Corinthians 15 (THE MESSAGE)
To read Real Good, click here.
To listen to it, click here.
Categories
Rhythm Shift
This is one you’ll either love or hate. Rhythm Shift is something I wrote while in grad school at a time when I was studying a lot of minimalism. Like a lot of Steve Reich, two instruments repeat the same motive and slowly move out of phase with one another. In Rhythm Shift, I wanted to see if I could write something simple enough for two musicians to play live. I have fond memories of grabbing unsuspecting pianists, hauling two pianos into the same room, and playing this. No matter what you think of it as a listening experience, it is a ball to play. If there are any marimba duos or piano duos who want to have a mezmerizing musical experience, I’ll get you a score. For those of you who are listening at home, I recommend headphones.
A while back I posted a recording of the Chagall String Quartet playing the piece they commissioned from me, called “6.” The string quartet that preceded that is a zippy little thing called “Jig.” Whereas 6 explores African rhythms, Jig is a melding of Celtic style and classical string quartet, with a little Bach and Dr. Who thrown in for free. I’m still waiting for the Kronos Quartet to adopt this as an encore piece. If anyone knows them, put in a good word for me…
Categories
The Story of 6
For a couple of years now, rhythm has consumed me.
It all started when I got involved in the African Drumming Ensemble at the University of Pittsburgh. Slowly a new way of thinking about rhythm evolved as my mind began to comprehend what it heard my hands doing. I couldn’t shake the rhythms from my head: I’d find myself walking down the street tapping out threes with my fingers against the twos my feet made on the pavement, or I’d curtail doing the dishes to tap on a particularly resonant portion of the sink, or I’d annoy everyone around me by breaking from my work at random intervals to play the bongos.
I decided that I’d better put some of these rhythms on paper before they ate me alive.
I began with a three-movement piece for orchestra and conga called Inventions which was premiered by The University of Pittsburgh Orchestra under the direction of Roger Zahab. Next, I wrote 12 for Evan and Catherine Pillsbury, a viola and cello duo from Boston. And now comes 6 for string quartet.
The Chagall String Quartet had been playing a piece of mine called Jig on their concerts and when they found themselves with some extra money at the end of the year they asked me if I’d write something new for them. Since I was in the middle of getting together a rock and roll string quartet I thought it would be a great chance to combine my enthusiasm for string quartet with my ongoing exploration of rhythm. And what came out was a piece in 6/8 meter that bristles with rhythm: 6.