Teaching composers

Where has the time gone? As you might imagine, I don't get much spare time anytime these days, so I'm not a reliable blogger, sorry. What with work, family, running the house, other things, life runs away from me quite regularly.

This year I've had the opportunity to re-structure the composition curriculum where I teach. I am fairly happy with the results, particularly with setting composition projects (with prescribed parameters) for individual students at each level. However, each week we meet as a seminar class twice a week for 1 hour each meeting. A combined-level class is always a challenge: what can be taught to 1st years without being boring and repetitive to the 3rd years? What can be taught to the 3rd years without being over the heads of the 1st years? It isn't quite like a performance masterclass where everyone can learn from observing the student who is playing.

My most recent thoughts about dealing with the seminar is to run it as a three-year cycle on topics/composers/eras, so that in three years of a degree, a composition major would cover (in general terms) each topic regardless of what year they are in.

I'd be very interested in any advice on this, from a musical or pedagogical point of view. Or any alternative suggestions!

Thanks in advance...

Finally!

A fantastic article in the Australian about music education.

Bravo, bravo. Now, how can we act? More on this in time. (I'm busy transcribing/arranging at the moment...)

Darling Heart

Here is my very talented brother-in-law Gareth, with his debut single Darling Heart.



Also the trailer for Natalie Imbruglia's upcoming movie Closed for Winter - Gareth singing at the end of the trailer...

Free voice lesson

The ever-lovely Gina B sent this to me and I just had to share it. Hysterical!

Spelling and other misdemeanours

Warning: large ranting post ahead.

I have been marking written tests taken by prospective students who want to study music at university, and as always I am appalled, horrified and furious at the complete and utter lack of basic musical knowledge that some people have, considering they want to make a career out of it. Last night one of these written tests really took the cake for me. I have never in my life read such appalling spelling in an essay, which is part of the test in addition to the basic music questions like, "Name this note." Here's a sample - see if you can work them out:
Carmon (yes, Bizet's opera)
provecetiv
feamal
larstly

And so on. Gaaah!

What is wrong with the following scenario? Young Person fluffs around and leaves school after year 10. Has some casual and part-time employment in "retail and hospitality" for a few years, learns how to do web design or similar, all the while being really interested in music, particularly alternative, electronica and similar, and attempts to write pieces by playing them from an electronic keyboard into your computer, tweaking notes that sound "wrong", pressing a button and, voilá! Notation appears! "Hey! I think I'll be a composer, and apply for a composition degree at uni!"

Why, why, why would you decide to be a musician at the age of 18 (or older) and apply to a tertiary music course without even being able to read music? Correct me if I'm wrong, but do students turn up to first-year mathematics having never done mathematics in high school and being unable to read numbers? It really IS the equivalent of that.

I was at work today and I ran into a woman who I had taught in 2007 in the foundation unit, which starts with topics like key signatures, scale construction, how rhythm is organised, and so on. I asked her what she was doing now and she informed me that she was auditioning for postgraduate study. I am not sure if my gaping jaw was obvious to her but I smiled politely, wished her good luck and continued on my merry way, incredulous that this person could go from being unable to construct correct rhythmic patterns in 2007 to attempting a postgraduate qualification in music in 2009.

If you can't read a note as big as a barn, GO AWAY AND LEARN HOW AND THEN COME BACK TO A UNIVERSITY MUSIC COURSE!!! Can I emphasise that strongly enough?

I am deadly serious. No matter what line of music you are hoping to make a career in, do NOT expect to learn everything from scratch in first-year university. It is simply a waste of everyone's time, especially your own. This career is simply too competitive to succeed in if you don't know anything about it by the time you reach your late teens or early twenties. And those who think they know about music because they have all the recordings of Miles Davis, can play licks by Joe Pass, can sing a few songs from Sondheim musicals, or similar, just need a reality check. And private tutoring before they apply to a university.

However, this leads me to a much deeper philosophical issue: why are music institutions taking in students like this? Why are music institutions designing courses around what the students think they need, as opposed to what the experts in the field know they need? What are the career options for students who exit tertiary music courses being unable to play standard repertoire and get on the casual list of a professional orchestra, or make a living doing jazz gigs? What about the students who can do those things, where are the jobs for them? Why are schools producing musically illiterate students who in turn go into teaching and so the awful cycle continues?

No matter whether it's jazz or classical, I will go to my grave upholding the belief that people who want tertiary music study need to be able to read music, take basic theory and aural training, learn the fundamentals of music history, and need to be literate and able to write coherently.

Sorry if this rant started to seem a little incoherent or disconnected. It's been a long week!

Review

Excerpt from the review of Song of Destiny concert by the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra:

"This well-attended concert featured two significant drawcards - the opportunity to hear a live performance by the accomplished Finnish mezzo-soprano Lilli Paasikivi and the chance to experience the world premiere of a work by popular Hobart-based composer Maria Grenfell.

...Grenfell's Night Songs is an imaginative setting for chorus and orchestra of three poems by Australian writers based on the themes of night and motherhood within a uniquely Tasmanian context.

This uplifting work drew on the strengths of the orchestra and highlighted the skills of various sections and individuals within the orchestra through the incorporation of brief solo passages.

The TSO Chorus did a commendable job of bringing the texts to life, particularly in the captivating opening Notturno." (Reviewed by Carolyn Philpott in The Mercury, Tuesday 18 November 2008)

Happy composer!

Coming up

My piece Night Songs will be performed by the TSO and TSO Chorus in the Song of Destiny concert next Saturday, November 15, at 2.30pm in the Federation Concert Hall.

The piece is a setting of three poems by Gwen Harwood, Esther Ottaway and Henry Lawson. So far I think the rehearsals are going well. I went to a chorus rehearsal two weeks ago and they were sounding great! This week I was scheduled to attend four rehearsals but the Artistic Manager called today and told me the conductor only wants me at the last two. I'm quite happy about this - it's easier for me to not have to rush to a 7pm rehearsal on a week night, but also says that *fingers crossed* there aren't any major huge horrendous problems with the muzik that they need me there to unravel bits. Phewsies!

Oh. Also on the programme are pieces by Brahms and Elgar.

Meanwhile, I'm desperately trying to get my uni marking done, tidy my study, and plan a small vegetable patch. I've suddenly got the gardening bug and it's rather worrying. I don't really think I have time for it but at the same time I don't think I can not do it. Everyone is planting vegetables. Not just because of the insane prices in the shops, but because they taste so much better. I bought a great little book last week called One Square Metre by Lolo Houbein, and I am literally going to plant one square metre of salady things and see how it goes. Start small, rather than launch in and watch it fail miserably. Wish me luck!

How to score...

...for horns and strings. Plus a bunch of other things. Alexander sometimes has me cruising around YouTube for Thunderbirds or (lately) Star Wars clips, and I came across this little Star Trek montage today. I loved the footage of the old Star Trek when William Shatner was young and handsome before he turned into the incomparable Denny Crane, haha!! The music just took my breath away and it's so extremely simple and effective.


Sorry for being AWOL lately. Life has swallowed me whole and I'm still down in the gurgler just getting through each day. At least Lillian is now sleeping at night. But I seem to be so tired all the time. C'est la vie with two kids.

P.S. Thank you for all your lovely posts about the children's recent birthdays. Much appreciated even though I haven't had a chance to reply.

A career path for composers

The TSO Australian Composers' School started today. I have been the co-ordinator of the school for the past two years, but this year my role was limited only to liaising with applicants and helping out with the selection process simply because I have been up to my ears with my piece and doing the Baby Thang.

Anyway, this morning I took Lillian along to the Welcome session, and we stayed to listen to part of Gerard Brophy's lecture which began by talking about a career path for composers. What? Yes, that's right, there really isn't one. I can't very well comment on the entire gist of the lecture because I had a small child on my lap who kept dropping her toy and trying to grab my lips with her hands, but Gerry touched on many topics including dealing with contracts, being necessarily concerned with earning a living to house, feed and clothe one's family, the fact that we are surrounded by music particularly in the iPod and movie-music generation, how some composers have been writing ringtones (I'm not sure if he was serious about this one) to earn some cash...

It's hard. In many ways being an academic is of course an easier option, and one that many composers choose to take simply because of the certainty of earning a salary. Theoretically, composers who work at a university have a fair degree of time in the week/year in which to write music, but in today's academic climate there are so many other things that need doing, you barely get any time to write music as part of your job and if you do, you're either lucky or determined not to be sunk into an administrative black hole. And of course, being an academic is never easy because getting a job in the first place is hard enough.

Anyway, I have to stop now. My baby won't stop crying even though she's supposed to be asleep, the washing is almost finished and I have to go and dig out some old yellow curtain material to make some duck feet for the four-year-old's Book Week costume for tomorrow, which I found out about, oh, 5 hours ago. Gee, being a composer is so romantic and productive.

Edited the nasty bits out on 27 August...

Fake haiku

Geriatric printer whirring final version of piece
Sixty-four pages, very tiny print
Edits complete, just need to proof-read

Two sick children for past week
Very tired
Need more sleep
And chocolate

Thank God for professional copyists!

One step closer

I am sitting at my desk on another very cold night listening to the friendly geriatric whirr of my faithful printer. It's printing out the 64 page draft of my piece.

Now, before anyone gets too excited (least of all, me), there are still a few gaps that need filling. The piano reduction is half-done, which is a blessing. Man-o-man what a tedious job that is! Although cut-and-paste with Finale 08 is a beautiful thing when doing a piano reduction, so it's made that job slightly less onerous than a friend told me it would be.

The harp part is mostly complete, a few more passages to wrangle. I just love writing for the orchestral harp. I remember the little pnemonic that an Eastman harpist friend told me, in order to remember the pedals, three on the left and four on the right: Did Columbus Bring Enough Food Going (to) America? Thank you to the wonderful Genevieve Lang, TSO harpist, who is happy to answer emails with comprehensive instructions - I love that in a harpist! (And a guitarist... those stringy instruments that I don't play are a little tricky.) Much more useful than being crabby at the composer during rehearsals - believe me I've had that before... not from a harpist, I might add.

There are occasional flashes of articulation and the odd dynamic appears in certain specific passages that I was obviously thinking about somewhat lucidly at the time. Sadly the timpani and percussion parts haven't featured all that prominently in my thinking about this piece. I think that's because it's obviously a choral piece, so I have really been focused on the text and how to harmonise it appropriately. So I need to have a good think about percussion next.

Pens not quite down yet, but the end is in sight. I find it easier at this stage to be able to see all the lines of the stave at one time, something a computer screen doesn't manage unless your monitor is as big as a plasma-screen television. Which mine isn't. But I'll be able to do my best Villa-Lobos impersonation tomorrow while I have two children at home, doing some composing at the dining table with the children playing around me. That is, until one falls over like the sitting skittle she is, and the other badgers me for food every twenty minutes. Ah well, one can dream of getting things accomplished.

And in case anyone is wondering, no we are still not getting enough sleep.

Title tittle

So Richard Mills's new TSO piece was called Night Poems.

My new TSO piece is called Night Songs. Well, it was until I heard Richard's piece last night.

Hmn. Should I change it?

They're both vastly different pieces: mine has a chorus in it. No theremins.

Maybe it doesn't matter. Ai.

Northern Lights

Last night I went to hear the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra play Richard Mills, Shostakovich, and Sibelius, conducted by Sebastian Lang-Lessing, the TSO's chief conductor and artistic director.

Richard Mills's work Night Poems opened the concert. It was an imaginative piece with a particularly attractive second movement. The novelty factor in his piece was the use of the theremin, an instrument invented by a wily Russian in 1919 and which came into popular culture particularly by its use in the Beach Boys song Good Vibrations. Anyhoo, I didn't quite understand why the theremin part was present in Richard's piece; I actually found it somewhat distracting and irrelevant, but perhaps I should have read the programme notes.

The second work on the programme was Shostakovich Cello Concerto no. 1, a spectacular piece as are most works by this amazing composer. A second dimension of spectacle was the performance by German cellist Alban Gerhardt. He appeared on stage refreshingly wearing a dark red open-necked untucked shirt with black pants and floppy blonde surfer hair. That minor detail aside, his playing was quite remarkable and there were several curtain calls at the end, encouraging him to play some Bach during which you could hear nothing except the music. It was truly breathtaking.

To complete the concert, the orchestra roared its way through Sibelius Symphony no. 1. I must admit here that I have been a devotee of this wonderful composer since my undergraduate days, when I played Symphony no. 5 in the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra and it changed my life. Sibelius's music is, for me, characterised by an incredible degree of motivic development, as well as beautiful and striking harmonic language and clear clean lines of timbre. I gave the pre-concert talk for the TSO when they played Symphony no. 6 a couple of years ago - a rare performance of that stunning work - so I was looking forward to hearing another of the symphonies in concert. This early work of Sibelius had most of the hallmarks of his emerging musical voice, and although much more overblown in its orchestration than his subsequent six symphonies it was exciting to hear it in performance and follow the train of thought from the start of the piece to the end. Lang-Lessing's interpretation was intelligent, intense and musical as always.

A wonderful concert.

The Perfect Fifth

Thank you Sara. This always makes me laugh out loud. Enjoy!

And so we're well on the way, then...

Not.

Still the house of no sleep. Largely due to Miss Lillian developing a rather yucky cold. But progress is being made with reducing night feeds. And she has also very kindly shared her cold with me, so I'm sleepless and sneezy.

Trying to orchestrate and so far so good except it's so dull! I'm waiting for some flash of inspiration to imbue this piece with some flair and colour. Just kidding - sort of. Maybe you only get "dull" when you're so exhausted you can't think more creatively. But I keep thinking seconda prattica so that the text speaks more than the music.

Quite honestly I'm too tired to get all philosophical about it, I just need to make the deadline. That's all.

Elizabeth Bay House

My brother-in-law Gareth is a multi-talented individual who recently discovered that Elizabeth Bay House in Sydney is oriented to align precisely with the sunrise at the winter solstice. He has created an audiovisual and used part of my flute concerto as the background music. He took the photographs, filmed the sunrise, did the research and wrote an article.

Gareth is an amazing singer-songwriter. We listen to the stuff they play on ABC Sunday arts shows and after about two seconds we wonder when Gareth is going to be hugely famous and all over the radio and TV. He performs in Sydney as Malone and the Gentle Band, often at the Vanguard but also other places. If you ever see his gigs advertised, GO. You will not be disappointed. Move over, Kurt Elling.

And he's just made a wonderful 4-track EP, so I'll post here when it is released publicly.

A short p.s. to apologise for not blogging much lately. I've had a sick child so time and sleep have been rare commodities around here.

Poetry and music

Esther Ottaway, whose poem I am setting for the piece I'm working on, has had an article published here.

I don't know how

But I have nine minutes of music written.

Nine!

I'm not sure when or how I managed it, what with sick children and taking up blogging (note to self: stay away from the computer) and no sleep, but there we are. My time limit is 15, so I reckon anywhere between 12-15 is going to be fine. And who said composing was all about "the flash of divine lightning". Haha.

It's just in short score at the moment, which will be to my advantage when I'm orchestrating because I realised that I have to do a piano score for the choir rehearsals. Eep. All that Finale-ing is going to send me bonkers. But hey, better that the choir know what the accompaniment is going to sound like, even if just a little bit.

4 months to go. Onwards and upwards.

Advice to young composers

Last year Matthew Hindson contacted a number of established composers and asked them to write up some advice for younger composition students.

I was happy to be included and the final result is an excellent store of things to think about when you're sitting at your desk or computer or in a cafe somewhere, wondering what the heck possessed you to take up composition and what the heck you're going to do next.

That ol' chestnut - motherhood

This evening I had a surprise phone call from a good friend who recently took on a very full-time job in a town far away. We spent a little time catching up, as you do, talked about our children and other bits and pieces and she said, "So, are you teaching at the moment?" I patiently explained that no, I am on maternity leave because Lillian is only 6 months old and I don't plan to go back to work outside the home until Feb 09 at the earliest. The tone of the conversation suddenly changed, and it has thrown me somewhat out of kilter this evening. Suddenly I felt like I had disappointed her, and I had nothing of interest to talk about.

I found myself trying to justify my non-teaching life by explaining that I have a commission that I'm working on. But an hour or so earlier I happily talked to my husband that even though our children have been sick for the past five days, of course I enjoy caring for them even though it's hard exhausting work. That's my "job" and my first priority at the moment. Who else is going to do it, and why should they?

I certainly don't intend to criticise working mothers because I am one even though I work at home and in the evenings. I think it was the sudden assumption that, because I'm at home with my children, doing the kinder drop-offs and pick-ups, taking care of my baby and not going out of the house to work, I'm not really doing anything productive or meaningful.

I believe that despite what the government wants (more women in the work force), there is a cultural swing towards women staying at home and caring for their families while their children are very young (under 2 or 3). Whether that means they restructure their lives so, like I do, they juggle work and children without losing their career, or whether they even put their paid work on pause while their children are young. I do believe it is happening a lot more than is being talked about in the media. Perhaps it's all part of the generational change. The median age for a woman having her first child has risen, and many women have already reached significant career and financial goals prior to starting their family.

Of course there are also many women who would go insane if they had to stay home full time with children! If you absolutely love your job and the people you work with, you're lucky - whether or not you have children. In recent years I haven't been as fortunate, so I'd rather stay home and work on what I want to, rather than beat my head against a brick wall at a place where I'm not appreciated or taken advantage of, in the best sense...

Recently I read an interview with the composer Liza Lim, who said that she did no composition at all during the first year of her son's babyhood. I completely understand how she felt:
There was the period beforehand – gestation – where I really felt my creative power go somewhere else. The tide really went out a long way, and I wrote a couple of crappy pieces where I just couldn’t get it together. I was just in La-la land. I had my child, and I didn’t do anything for the first year of his babyhood – I didn’t even try to. Then there was that whole thing of trying to rediscover my creativity on the other side, which I think lots of women have. ‘Am I the same person in some way, on the other side of having had a child?’

Composition is such a mentally draining activity, that by the time you get through the day's work caring for small children, if you have any brain cells left to write music it's probably happening in your sleep. But I digress.

If this subject interests you, go and read this book, which I found a revelation when I read it a couple of years ago. Not everyone will agree, and that's fine. But do we need a Queensland or overseas holiday every year? Do we need those giant 4WD tractors mowing everyone down in the city streets? A giant-screen plasma TV? A new wardrobe every season?

Whatever. We are lucky that we really can choose what we want to do. The main thing, for me, is that our children are happy and healthy.