Tag: contemporary

Let My Song Take Wing – Choral Commission

Let My Song Take Wing – Choral Commission

I am currently working on a choral commission (SAB voicing) with the Independence High School Choirs, here in Glendale, AZ. Their spring concert theme this school year is music derived from literature, and includes some fun music! This has been a really fun project, and if you’d like to be a part of it, please reach out!

I, of course, am a huge fan of poetry, and in particular have been reading a lot of Emily Dickinson over the last year. I am fascinated by her use of natural imagery and her more existential and romantic poems. I also find it amusing that most of her poems can be sung to the tune of the Pokemon theme song (“Because I could not stop for Death” will never sound quite the same, to me!)!

I have chosen a setting of two of her poems related to art and music. Both “If I can stop one heart from breaking” and “I shall keep singing!” have been set by many composers, and so my goal is to find a way to say something new with both texts – something I think I have successfully done. These poems are of particular interest in Dickinson’s oeuvre: they do not follow the typical metric and rhyme schemes she used. And so, I have freely adapted the text, and added my own to the bridge. The full lyrics, as they are currently, are shown below. 

Verse 1:
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
then I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
or if I can cool one pain.

Or help one fainting robin
unto his nest again,
then as long as I keep singing,
I shall not sing in vain

Chorus:
I shall keep singing!
I shall keep singing!
I shall keep singing!

Verse 2:

Birds will pass me
on their way to Yellower Climes.
Each, with a Robin’s expectation,
I with my Redbreast and my Rhymes.

When I take my place in summer,
I shall bring a fuller tune.
Vespers are sweeter than Matins,
Morning, the seed of Noon.

Chorus:
I shall keep singing!
I shall keep singing!
I shall keep singing!

Bridge:
So let my song take wing,
beyond the fleeting day,
carried on the quiet air,
where silence melts away!

Chorus:
I shall keep singing!
I shall keep singing!
I shall keep singing!

Verse 1:
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
then I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
or if I can cool one pain.

Or help one fainting robin
unto his nest again,
then as long as I keep singing,
I shall not sing in vain.

Outro (a capella, repeat ad lib. and fade out):
I shall keep singing!

Musically, the song is in the pops/Broadway style. I very much admire such music, though I rarely write it! 

The music is rhythmically syncopated, with the dotted quarter, dotted quarter, quarter rhythmic motive heard throughout. Many of the musical lines start off of the beat, as well. 

The opening of the first verse, showing the syncopated start to each line of the text.

The music is in F major, and stays in the range of an octave and a fourth (C4-F5 in soprano, C4-C5 in alto, and C3-D4 in baritone), and generally stays within an octave. Leaps and the high registers are used sparingly. There is an optional ad libitum soprano solo. 

I am also inspired by non-functional harmony and the chord loops heard in many popular genres of music over the last century – particularly those heard in grunge, punk, and pop punk musics. While this music is in none of those styles, the harmonies are derived from those worlds – double suspensions, reverse circle of fifths progressions, etc. For example, an important chord progression in this tune is Fmaj-Ebmaj-Bbmaj-Fmaj. 

The Fmaj-Ebmaj-Bbmaj-Fmaj progression, heard throughout the piece. Beat 4 of m. 74 and beat 1 of m. 75 have passing tones in the upper voice. The sharp 11 over the Ebmaj chord in that voicing is similar to the Viennese Trichord, which is rare in popular musics, but common in mine!

The bass notes of typical tonal harmonic progressions move counterclockwise around the circle of fifths (for example, a ii-V-I in F moves, with bass notes, G-C-F). The progression I use moves clockwise instead – with bass motion of F-Eb-Bb, before returning to F. Because of the bass voice motion in fourths, theorists call this a double plagal cadence; and, it is very common in popular music of the last century. I make extensive use of it in my music.   

The circle of fifths is shown to follow bass note motion either clockwise or counterclockwise.

The bridge uses a very common progression, known as a line cliche. In a line cliche, one voice of a chord moves down in half steps. The others may or may not move around it. It leads nicely to a V7/V – V7 at the end, setting us up for the finale. It’s not how I typically approach writing such sections (I rather like the Sears-Robuck bridge, or some variant of IV-I-V-I-IV-I-V/V-V), but I like the elegant voice leading here.  

An example of the line cliche used, in F major.

Katie Sweeney, the director who is leading this commission, also noted that the beginning of the chorus bears some resemblance to “Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty. I greatly admire his music. 

Katie Sweeney compares this to the opening motive of “Free Fallin'” by Tom Petty. The composer is flattered by the comparison!

The Tuberculosis Verses

I recently read John Green’s new book Everything is Tuberculosis. In this book, he describes the tragically short life of the Japanese poet, Masaoka Shiki. Masaoka, who revived the poetic forms of haiku and tanka in the late nineteenth century, died an agonizing death from tuberculosis in his mid 30s. His poems are both beautiful and haunting, with vivid imagery and rich symbolism.

Inspired by both Masaoka and Green, I’ve begun work on a piece for oboe and vibraphone based on Masaoka’s work.

measures 1-3 of movement 1

The seven selected poems feature his despair and suffering, including imagery of snow and luffa plants. Each is being written into a movement of music, with the tentative title The Tuberculosis Verses. I intend the whole work to be about 10 minutes in length. The oboe-vibraphone duo is a beautiful, but unfortunately under-explored, medium in chamber music, and this will be my (first) contribution to the genre.

If you’re interested in joining the project, or know of someone who would be, please reach out via the Google Form link here! Click this link for a preview of movements 1-5.

outline of the seven movements, including the poem for each one in Japanese, with freely-adapted English translation

Musical Miniatures – Part 2

With the world premiere of my miniature Beryllium for tenor saxophone, in my Elements series, on June 4th at 7:00PM EST (shoutout Drew Hosler, who will be performing my work!). I am making this entry into my series of blog posts about musical miniatures. 

To say the work of Edgard Varese has had an enormous influence on my music is an understatement. I often make subtle references to his music in my compositions. Take the below example from his work Density 21.5 for solo flute. The opening motive, F-E-F# (alternatively, [0,e,1] or any of its permutations) is, in my opinion, a wonderful use of symmetry – reflecting across the pitch-axis of the first note, a half step below and then above that pitch.

Density 21.5 for solo flute, measure 1.

I often use this motive directly in my music. I sometimes use an expanded form, following this pattern through a twelve-tone row.

Reflected across the axis of the first pitch, the tone row expands outward in pairs of semitones.

Other times, I use the idea by taking a musical motive, and repeating it down a semitone, and then up a semitone from the original. Take the following example from Beryllium:

Beryllium, measure 4. The 5-let motive starts on A, then is repeated on G# and Bb.

This technique permeates the whole piece. I also really love the low honks which saxophones are capable of. These are heard throughout the work.

Beryllium, measure 15. This example shows both the Density 21.5 technique, and low honks.

It’s always fun writing for a virtuoso (and new-music specialist!) like Hosler. They always seem to find a way to make difficult passages sound effortless. Hosler will be giving the world premiere performance of the anthropocene extinction for solo baritone saxophone later this year. He also premiered Lithium and Saxharp!

Beryllium, measures 16-19. Techniques used include a multiphonic, low honks, and harmonics from the low register up through the altissimo register.


Musical Miniatures – Part 1

In this series of posts, I plan to discuss the musical ideas that go into my musical miniatures—brief, concentrated works that distill compositional thought into compact forms. These pieces often last only a minute or so, but within that short time, I aim to explore specific ideas in harmony, structure, and texture.

My harmonic language, which leans toward the dissonant and chromatic, is well-suited to this format. Extended stretches of sharp dissonance can be overwhelming in longer pieces, but when confined to miniature form, they can be intense without exhausting the listener. Like Anton Webern, I prefer economy in many of my chamber works. The miniature allows me to say more with less, and to present musical ideas which are both concise and pointed.

One of my favorites to write in this genre has been a series of miniatures based on the periodic table of elements. For several years now, I’ve been composing one piece for each element, using a form of musical cryptography I’ve developed. This technique transforms the element’s name, its atomic number, and select properties into pitch material. From there, I craft the composition—not as a programmatic interpretation of the element, but by allowing the encoded material to generate the piece’s musical identity.

The outcomes can be surprising. Because my system excludes the numbers 10 and 11, the pitches A and A♯ do not appear in number-based material. Likewise, the English alphabet’s uneven letter distribution means some element names yield more tonal clarity, while others result in sharp dissonance. The cryptographic method is a structural constraint that shapes the work in often unexpected directions.

Take, for example, my piece Helium for toy piano, written for Dr. David Bohn as part of his Fifteen Minutes of Fame series with Vox Novus. The piece begins in F major, using only the F major pentatonic scale.

“Helium,” for solo toy piano, opens with the notes of the F major pentatonic scale.

As the music progresses, additional notes are introduced methodically—B♭, E♭, A♭, D♭, and so on—expanding outward (and backwards!) through the circle of fifths. With each new pitch, the harmony becomes increasingly tense. Simultaneously, the tempo increases and a third contrapuntal voice emerges, enriching the texture and pushing the limits of the toy piano’s expressive capabilities.

The music accelerates throughout, and more pitches are added as the piece develops. As such, the music starts out with very consonant counterpoint, and over time becomes increasingly dissonant.

Distilling a musical idea into such a short form (and keeping the product musically coherent and interesting) is a challenge which draws me to the miniature. Because the musical ideas stem directly from external constraints (i.e., the properties of the particular element being expressed through my cryptographic method) the process remains fresh, surprising, and creatively challenging.

In future posts, I’ll delve into other works in the periodic table series, exploring how different elements have inspired unique musical solutions, and how I have explored different musical ideas I’ve been interested in over time.

A Week in the Life #6

Here are some things which have been occupying me musically and personally over the last week.

The Busy Season

Musically, it is the busy season! Publishers are putting out their new catalogs, and starting to accept new works. In that vein, I have one band (I’ll expand on that one below) and one strings work in progress. It is also marching band season, and I have two marching shows I am arranging – one with a theme of celebrating Chicano music and culture; and the other with a weather theme. I am learning a ton about writing for battery and front ensemble; integrating work with other folks, who choreograph the shows, and my contractor for writing percussion parts; and even some styles for arranging jazz, a la Basie.

I recently read John Green’s new book “Everything is Tuberculosis.” In this book, he describes the tragically short life of the Japanese poet, Masaoka Shiki. Shiki, who revived the poetic forms of haiku and tanka in the late nineteenth century, died an agonizing death from tuberculosis in his mid 30s. His poems are both beautiful and haunting, with vivid imagery and rich symbolism.

Inspired by both Shiki and Green, I’ve begun work on a piece for oboe and vibraphone based on Shiki’s work. The seven selected poems feature his despair and suffering, including imagery of snow and luffa plants. Each is being written into a movement of music, with the tentative title “The Tuberculosis Verses.” I intend the whole work to be about 10 minutes in length. The oboe-vibraphone duo is a beautiful, but unfortunately under-explored, medium in chamber music, and this will be my (first) contribution to the genre. If you’re interested in joining the project, or know of someone who would be, please reach out!

Sonemoia – a neologism

The band work in progress, with the tentative title “Petroglyphs,” will be about a grade 1 to 1.5 work which is somber in nature. Inspired by petroglyphs found in Arizona, and those I viewed recently in Joshua Tree National Park, I found myself lacking the words to describe precisely the emotions I felt viewing these artifacts from 2000 years ago. “The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows,” penned by neologist John Koenig, offers two words which are close – sonder and anemoia.

Sonder is the feeling that everyone around you lives a life as rich and complex as your own, that you can never truly know. Everyone, including the stranger you pass on the street and the person that lives on the other side of the planet, lives a life full of love, hope, grief, regret, and the rest of the full spectrum of what it means to be human – they work hard, love their friends and family, and do the best they can. It’s a profound feeling, and it reminds us we have more in common with everyone than we think. Indeed, the world might be a nicer place if we all remembered to imagine each other complexly.

Anemoia is nostalgia for a time one can never know. I certainly felt this when seeing the Joshua Tree petroglyphs, but the feeling was more complex. As I stood before the petroglyphs, I was struck not just by the artistic marks themselves, but by the people behind them. Their joys, fears, dreams, and disappointments are lost to time, but their marks remain—silent yet deeply human. As we are separated by time, I wonder what stories, jokes, and music their culture might have had, and in some sense feel a sense of loss that these are all lost to time. And I wonder what from our time will be lost to future generations.

So with the help of ChatGPT, I coined a new word: sonemoia. A portmanteau of sonder and anemoia, sonemoia represents the wistful, aching awareness that others—whether distant in geography or history—have lived lives as real as ours, full of laughter, sorrow, and longing. It is the grief of never knowing their stories, and the hope that our own will one day be seen with the same reverence. In a world that too often flattens others into enemies or footnotes, sonemoia is a call to imagine more deeply, feel more widely, and remember more kindly.

This post gives the definition for the neologism "sonemoia." A portmanteau of the words sonder and anemoia, this new noun describes " The wistful, aching awareness that every person—living or long gone—carries a world of memories, dreams, and losses you’ll never know; a nostalgia for the imagined inner lives of others, tinged with a yearning that your own life, too, might one day be remembered in kind." Pronounced SOHN-uh-moi-uh.

“Pangrams” Named Finalist in Internation Competition

“Pangrams” (2024) is a brief suite for string orchestra that I recently composed. The idea struck me that a series of miniatures based on the linguistic concept of the pangram – a sentence or verse containing all letters of a language’s alphabet – might yield some interesting results using musical cryptography. Each movement is a short musical cryptogram where the letters of the pangram are converted to musical notes. Containing all letters of the alphabet, the musical equivalent uses all twelve tones; this yielded some surprisingly tonal-sounding musical material to develop. Thus I wrote four movements, totalling about six minutes of music:

I. Sphinx of Black Quartz, Judge My Vow
II. Pack My Box with Five Dozen Liquor Jugs
III. The Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over the Lazy Dog
IV. The Five Boxing Wizards Jump Quickly

The work divides the violin section into four parts, and features the principal players of the violin and cello sections in two of the four movements. It was named a finalist in the “Musica Per Archi” international composition competition, and was premiered by the KLK String Orchestra in Lviv, Ukraine on June 17, 2024.

A Week in the Life #3

Here are some things which have been occupying me musically and personally over the last week.

This week, I want to talk about a technique which frequently populates my music. When daunted by a blank page, it is one of the first places I go to – musical cryptography. I did not invent the technique, or the term for it, “crypto-serialism,” but I have found some success with it. The essence of the technique is developing a musical chiper to convert strings of characters into musical pitches; a title, concept, name, or line of text or poetry becomes a series of notes.

Below is the cipher I typically use:

There are several good examples of this in the early music of Dr. Neal Endicott, a composer/theorist I met while I was completing my undergraduate work at Western Michigan University. His Boketto for solo flute, riverrun for solo saxophone, and Come Slowly, Eden are a few which come to mind. You can see the conversion of numbers using a similar method in my works in the Elements series of musical miniatures (for example, the properties of Hydrogen and Helium).

The most extensive use in my music can be heard in the recently-released Leviathan. Inspired by the mythological creature as portrayed in the Bible and the cult television series Supernatural, several musical motives and chords are derived from the supposed qualities of the creature.
In the example below, the word “hunger” is converted into pitches. The vertical sonority is based on the letters in order, from the lowest note to the highest.

The Hunger Chord, mm. 57-59, Leviathan.

However, the order of the pitches in the vertical sonority aren’t always important, as in the below rendering of the word “Leviathan” (left). The piano spells out in pitches the word “Purgatory,” the mythical home of the creature.

The Leviathan Chord, mm. 68; and Purgatory, spelled out by the piano, mm. 69-74, Leviathan.

There are several creative avenues to explore with this method. These include rhythm, repetition, register, and converting parts of these musical words into musical motives. The possibilities are endless, but it is a definite method of finding where to start! I will use it in the baritone saxophone commission I am working on this year, and will discuss other techniques I use in future blog posts.

Personally, the week was eventful! I worked the state music educators convention; it’s always nice connecting with music educators whom I don’t always get to see, and I was recognized a few times for my music (which is always surreal!). Dark Matter was featured on a reading session, and a set of my music was won in a raffle (I autographed the score for the director!). I’m always grateful for the love and support.

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments!

Written 2/4/24

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The Acoustic Whole-Tone Scale

I’ve been working on an exciting new project lately, and I think I’ve come up with a pretty neat idea for a scale to use. It’s a hybrid scale, consisting of a hybrid scale + a mode of limited transposition. Behold, the Acoustic Whole-Tone Scale! Perhaps I’m just coming up with a pretentious title for an octatonic scale with an extra note in it. Or an acoustic scale with an extra note. =P

It contains the notes of the Acoustic (AKA Lydian-Dominant) scale and the whole-tone scale, hence the name:
C D E F# G G# A Bb C (or perhaps C D E F# G Ab A Bb C)

acoustic whole tone scale

See below the notes of the two scales it is a hybrid of. Or is it a hybrid of a hybrid?
awts2

awts3