Collin: Do you compose music? If so can you describe your style?
Ralph: In fact I never had a big urge to compose music, as there are so many great composers out there, who have more to tell than I do in that respect. I have often thought what I would write if I would be a composer, but I had to conclude that it would be mostly a kind of mixture of all my favorite composers and pieces – some Messiaen, some Ives, some Debussy…However, as an instrumentalist, it is quite likely that one has some more pronounced ideas for a composition than for any other instrument; there are in fact quite a few pianists who do have composed for their own instrument, now and in the past, such as Glenn Gould, Arthur Rubinstein and Horowitz. However, also in these cases, in my opinion, the music sounds, in the first place, remarkably similar to the works by the composers they play as part of their concert repertoire.
That said – I have composed myself a few things, and during my conservatory studies, one work was actually performed at a concert of the composition department, after which I was encouraged to study composition. It strikes me that of the works I did compose (all were for piano solo), that without exception, they were in minor keys, and heavily influenced by the early and middle Scriabin especially, with some hints of Debussy and Chopin. Also I wrote a piece in memory of the great Japanese composer Toru Takemitsu, but thinking back of it, and although the pieces themselves are not bad I think, they are too much of an imitation.
I do realize that all great composers have started by imitating their great examples, and I think that as an instrumentalist, it is very useful to try composing – just to understand the process and the problems of composing to a greater extent (and ultimately, to perform other composer’s works better). However, I think that in order to seriously compose, one needs hard and serious work, and especially a lot of creativity and urge to add something really original of oneself to the enormous existing canon of great compositions.
Collin: What parts of the US would you like to visit? Do you have any venues that you dream about playing in?
Ralph: As a part of my studies in Amsterdam, The Netherlands, I studied with Ursula Oppens at Northwestern (Chicago) for almost a year. It was a wonderful period to which I think back very often. I was invited to be a fellow at the Tanglewood Music Center during two consecutive years at that time as well, and I would love to visit those places again, sniff the atmosphere (perhaps this is a Dutch expression) and see all my friends. During several holidays, I have been to California, Nevada, Arizona and New York, and also thsoe places grabbed me especially because of their natural beauty – the vastness of everything is unknown to us Dutchmen, and it would be something I would like to see and especially feel again. It seems to me that the works by someone as John Adams could only have been created in such environments; in a small, measured, rainy place such as The Netherlands, the mind simply seems not to have enough space to think of such a music style. But I have never been to Florida or Texas, for example, so there are still many places to discover.
Concerning my dream of a concert venue: of course there are many big halls in the US that any musician dreams of. I have attended a lot of concerts at Chicago’s Symphony Center during my studies, so this has a special place in my heart. But often, my mind has wandered to other thoughts. For example, wouldn’t it be great to perform Charles Ives’ legendary Concord Sonata at Walden Pond, in Henry David Thoreau’s cottage? The atmosphere, perhaps even the ‘vibes’ in such a place would certainly beat even the best concert hall in the world, even though the acoustics would probably not be the best ever. And when I let my thoughts go further, I could dream of playing Messiaen’s Des Canyons aux Étoiles (From the Canyons to the Stars), for piano and chamber orchestra, in the place where the composer found his inspiration: right inbetween the canyons of Bryce Canyon, at sunrise for example….A concert inbetween the half-constructed airplanes at Boeing Hall in Everett, Washington, is an even weirder phantasy, to which I would not say ‘no’…
Collin: What music do you buy? Do you have any current favorite recording right now?
Ralph: Sometimes I doubt whether I have a normal musical mind, as there are just so many types of music that I like. I have never understood why there is such a big ‘gap’ between what they call classical, contemporary, pop, world and jazz music. At the moment there is a CD of Coldplay in my car stereo – I must admit that I do not know pop music so well, but many contemporary composers mentioned it to me, and indeed it is good music. At the same time, I am again in a ‘minimal’ period. With me, my music interests go in recurring waves – few months ago I had one of those Scriabin periods, in which I listened to his music any time I was not practising myself. Now, there is Steve Reich in my CD-player in the living room. For some reason I always feel drawn to his music whenever I go travelling. My holidays are nearing quickly, and perhaps the pulse of his music sets my mind to the pulse of the many hours on the highway to come. Other music which is always close by is from Debussy and Keith Jarrett, to name a few. I have not so long ago discovered music by the German composer Hans Otte (1926-2007), who was a piano student of Walter Gieseking and a composition student of Paul Hindemith. He was absorbed by new music, but in his own music you always hear the sensuality of Gieseking’s hallmark: Debussy. In an original and haunting combination, you hear an almost perfect world of impressionism, minimalism, Eastern influences and even some hints of Romantic music.
I have long been a fan of Italian film music of the 60’s and 70’s. Rota was truely one of the most important and influential composers of his generation, the generation that would influence such greats as Ennio Morricone, Bruno Nicolai and many others. Rota of course (like many other film composers) had a “Classical Music” side to his work. I had a chance to chat with conductor Enrico Bronzi about his disc of Rota Concertos on the Concerto label.
Enrico, can you tell us a little bit about the Rota project? What inspired you to make this recording? Why these particular compositions? For a while now I have been looking for an opportunity to study the Concerto n. 2 for cello. So when the Musici di Parma asked me to join them in a project regarding Rota, naturally my reaction was to join them immediately. This recording brings together all aspects of my life as a musician: chamber music, work as a soloist and conducting.
Can you describe for us where Nino Rota fits in the Italian Music Landscape (historically speaking)? Rota’s music is like breathing Italian air. His vocation for melody originates in the lyric traditions of my hometown. Often his music is tinged with a typically Mediterranean mood. It can be playful: in it he frequently alludes to particular sounds, such as a band from southern Italy or the circus. However, he does know where the limits lie and it is done with a gentlemanliness, which keeps everything from becoming mere imitation. And this sense of ‘moderation in all things’ is part of the education of that refined aristocrat from the south, which is a part of the foundations of our culture.
What do you see as being Rota’s most important compositions outside of the film works? What makes these pieces important? Rota’s concert music is contiguous with his music for film. It is sophisticated music that has absorbed all of the lessons of European music. And yet it is not music that feigns solemnity or zeal. When Morricone writes ‘serious’ music, he does it disowning the poetry of his film music. Rota, on the other hand, just enlarges and reinforces the poetic structure of his pieces. We never get the impression that the joy exuding from his enormous melodic streak is running out.
What would you like this recording you’ve made to achieve both in Italy and abroad? I hope this recording will be considered a step toward rediscovering this great composer’s recorded music. Many have begun to re-evaluate all angles of his music and I believe the public will not have to work at all to appreciate him. I am thinking of some rather silly and useless criticisms leveled at Poulenc. In the end the coherence of these authors is worth more than an aesthetic credo or the poorly placed problems regarding the avant-garde. Let it be understood I am a big fan of a wide variety of very different composers, such as Zimmermann, Ligeti, Kurtag. Our age is a Tower of Babel of different and diverse languages. But if we know how to listen we will be able to understand the beauty that can be found in opposites.
While some people in America are familiar with Rota’s film music, by and large his “Classical Compositions” still remain somewhat obscure (when speaking in terms of the “Classical mainstream”), why do you think this is? For many years, in Europe, there was, basically, a kind of censorship regarding this composer who was so far removed from any of the beacons of the avant-garde in the last century. Given that 20th century American music is not so very different from Rota’s aesthetic cannons, I think that, in the United States, he could be warmly welcomed. For people who enjoy Copland or Bernstein, admiring Rota’s spontaneous and luminous music should come naturally.
Here is the continuation of Sean Hickey’s recording experience in Russia.
Next morning: full dress rehearsal at the Palace goes surprisingly well. The final movement is still challenging. A fast 3/8 flourish that begins the movement still sounds sloppy and the ending isn’t quite as emphatic as it needs to be. I spent the rest of the day wandering the canals and streets, and drinking espresso, which is a silly thing to do to calm one’s nerves. The musical sites of St. Pete’s are so abundant as to be laughable. I had coffee in a building where Tchaikovsky lived and died. I visited the famous Mariinsky Theatre and the statues of Glinka and Rimsky-Korsakov at the Conservatory. Most important to me of anything I might do in this city was to visit 66 Krukov Canal, which happened to be around the corner from Dima’s, and a rite of pilgrimage I had longed to take for years. This was the home of the Stravinsky’s until Igor’s triumphant Paris premieres with the Ballets Russe. The Revolution would keep him away from his birth country for another 55 years. A Firebird plaque hangs on the entrance to the building. I would return to this spot over and over, as well as to the Shamrock Pub, directly adjacent to it. Old habits die hard.
Arriving in the Palace again was a sobering experience. It was certainly the most glorious setting for my music, and I say this knowing I’ve been blessed with performances at Carnegie Hall, Alice Tully, Steinway and a few smart college campuses. We very nearly had a full house and I was surprised to see Anna, a woman I spoke to on the flight over for no more than 10 minutes and to whom I briefly mentioned the concert. She joined us after the day-long wedding of her sister in Pushkin the day before. Charles, Vladimir and the band gave a strong performance of the Aikman piece, with its wonderfully tuneful middle movement. I’m happy to report that the performance of my Cello Concerto – the product of some six months of labor – went off extremely well. Dima played like someone absolutely possessed and Vladimir held the orchestra together nicely, and created a real sense of pacing. The crowd was more silent than any I had ever experienced, especially in my hushed central movement with its cadenza for cello and percussion. Tempos were as I had them indicated, and the applause for the performers was hard-earned. The US embassy and the St. Petersburg Timessent four officials who I never managed to talk to but I was pleased to hear English spoken elsewhere in the crowd a bit. A bunch of us went out to celebrate afterward to a far-too-hip-for-me club and restaurant. I got a little thrill from seeing my name rendered in Cyrillic on the concert posters. We wandered the streets in the only hour of darkness in the city.
A minor mishap on the way to the studio the next morning: Dima’s car breaks down in the middle of the busiest part of the Nevsky Prospekt. Fortunately, Vladimir and I are able to push it around a corner where, lo and behold, a car is vacating a parking spot. I will tell you this: parallel parking a car without a working motor is no easy feat. But since this car weighs slightly more than a watermelon, we managed fine. We quickly hitched a ride, which is surprisingly simple (and cheap) to do. Also no easy feat is cramming three musicians and a cello into the average Russian car. We all had to pile out just to reach our wallets.
The Melodiya Studios – which some consider the Abbey Road of Russia – resides in a small, rather shabby and nondescript church on Vasilievsky Island, across the Neva. We would be spending some ten hours here. I refused to believe that we could record this three-movement work, nearly 30 minutes of music for 51 players, in one day. Melodiya, established in 1964, was the state-sponsored record label of the USSR, making heralded recordings of classical, pop and jazz in a network of studios throughout the Soviet Union. This was where some of the first studio recordings of the last three Shostakovich symphonies were made and where some of the greatest conductors – Kondrashin, Svetlanov, Rozhdestvensky – put their stamp on the classics. The smoke-stained control room didn’t portend well, and I did my best not to judge the small and primitive mixing board. Up three flights of stone stairs and separated from the recording space by seven heavy iron doors, the control room is certainly isolated. Yosha, the engineer/producer (they are generally one and the same here) opened my score just before Vladimir gave the first downbeat. All prejudices were quickly laid aside. It was clear that this man had a valuable set of ears. In a matter of minutes, he know my score better than I. No detail escaped his attention. After a he uttered a gentle “spasiba” into the control mic, he would ask the group to play again. A few seconds later, they’d be playing. No fuss, no preparation. It went on like this for five hours with only two breaks. His understanding of this group, with whom he has made hundreds of recordings, was humbling to say the least. At one point, I left one of the seven doors open on my way from the bathroom to the control room. Once the mics were rolling, he stopped the orchestra and closed the door.
With the exception of two violists who played dominoes on a piano bench, each fifteen-minute break consisted of the band filing outside for profuse smoking. Most players carried with them a flask or thermos of tea, and a small sandwich. Once the personnel manager clapped his hands, the band gathered and the tape was rolling again in five minutes. After five hours, we took a break and Dima, Volodya and I headed to a Georgian restaurant for an epic lunch, washed down by lagidze, a tarragon-flavored soda, followed by a nap.
Back in the studio at night, which of course feels like early afternoon. Four more hours and we have it, including some good takes of the third movement. In all, we’ve recorded more than 300 minutes of music. Dima is unstoppable. At no point was there a need to stop because he had made a mistake. The third movement cadenza, the trickiest part of the whole piece, took only one take. We did a second just for the hell of it and I’d be hard pressed to tell the difference. After divvying up the cash in the control room and a discussion on mixing, we’re done. I almost feel ripped off because the whole thing happened so fast, but I’m more amazed at the work ethic of these wonderful musicians. They make a meager existence performing and that explains the especially punishing schedule, especially in summer. They would do four more recording sessions in the next week.
After the sessions, I found some time to see more sites, including visiting Peterhof on the Gulf of Finland. A rival to Versailles, and in my opinion more spectacular with its hundreds of gravity-controlled fountains, it’s a forty-minute hovercraft ride from the Neva Embankment. Dima also took me to the impressive Peter and Paul Fortress and the Aurora Cruiser, which fired the salvos that signaled the start of the Revolution. Dmitry, Vladimir, Natasha, Charles and I ended our trip with a great meal and a final visit to the pub, where pianist Peter Laul joined us. Truly one of the most gifted musicians I happen to know, he helped us tow Dima’s broken car over every bridge in the city to find a shop where the sad thing could be parked. A two-hour nap before boarding the plane home, where I will make copious notes on the recording for purposes of mixing next month. I hope to report more soon. Next up: recording my Clarinet Concerto.
This will be the first of a sereis of email conversations I’ll be having with pianist (and Naxos recording artist) Ralph van Raat. After contacting Ralph about this project we quickly become friends and found ourselves chatting about more than the music. Here is the first round of questions I had / have for Mr. van Raat. enjoy!
-What do you have going on this summer musically?
Usually, I spend my holidays mostly by learning a lot of new repertoire for the coming concert season. I deliberately (and almost traditionally) reserve a period of several weeks in this period without any concerts or other engagements, to fully concentrate myself at making a good start with all those new works. Obviously, the process of learning new works continues throughout the whole year, but then all the attention has to be divided between many things, such as concertizing, lecturing, and practising. It always turns out to be an absolutely amazing and enjoyable experience to put aside these things for a while and just plunge into all those exciting new projects! Another exciting thing is the recording of two new CD’s for Naxos, right at the end of summer, which I am greatly looking forward to.
-Where will you be taking your Holiday?
Holidays will take me this year to a rather quiet place in southern France – a very small village near Avignon – where there is, in fact, no piano or whatsoever. I used not to take holidays and continue to work for many years, however, retreating into silence, quietness and into your own world of thought for a while, with many books and good food, turns out to be very inspiring and refreshing, too…
-You’re a Pilot? When did aviation start to interest you and how did this interst develop?
It is almost hard to remember when aviation started to interest me, as my interest (like with music) started before I was born (at least – that is the way it feels!!). It had always been a dilemma for me in what area to try and pursue a career – aviation or music. At 14, I took a glider flying course. I was at high school, and mostly had time for my interests (playing the piano and flying) during the weekends. I noticed that, despite my enthusiasm for flying, the passion for music won more often. Unfortunately I had to make a decision how to spend my time, and after two years I chose to spend as much time as I could on a music career. However, the dream of flying never let go of me. Once I studied at the conservatory, I was happy to win some competitions not only because it helped my career, but also because I thought that it would bring the prospect of being able to fly more close: at least as a passenger, travelling to foreign concert venues, but perhaps even for private flying, some day….And sometime ago I decided to make that dream come true and plunge into a PPL course.
I can say, that it is the best of life, combining the worlds of music and aviation. I mutually learn from them: music has to do with a lot of mental and practical preparation; with finding a balance between reason and emotion (i.e. taking passion into control); and with the final performance as a critical moment where all knowledge comes together at once. With flying, I recognize many of the same issues and processes. You prepare your flight carefully, the route, the circumstances such as weather, your fuel etc. Then the flight itself can be seen as the performance, where it comes down to passion, skills and knowledge, like in a concert. During a flight, you have to take many things into account in order to arrive where you want to arrive, such as the action of wind. That is very similar to adjusting your musical performance to the acoustics of the concert hall and the ‘mood’ of the audience, in order to shape the ‘destination’ (or goals) of your concert performance. So in fact, flying for an hour does not feel much different that playing the piano for an hour!
-Do you look at very much art? Do you have any favorites in the world of the Visual Arts?
In fact, I have always been very inspired by the analogies between visual arts and music especially from the end of the 19th century up till and including today. To me it seems that in any period of time in history, there never has been a closer correlation between those two. In fact, especially more “difficult” abstract music (such as the compositions by Webern and Schoenberg) can be much better understood by looking at the visual interpretations of very similar artistic views in works by painters such as Kandinsky. Personally, I am very fascinated by post-impressionism, which is characterized by painters such as Cézanne. They were especially interested in the different emotions and effects of colour, something that interests me in music a lot. Also, they tried (with pointillist techniques) to create a larger whole by using minute streaks of paint. In music, one also strives to make one coherent story of seemingly loose entities, which are the individual notes, until something recognizable appears. It is especially in this perspective that I find ideas for playing and interpreting music in visual arts.
In May, Naxos of America begins distribution of 2L, a Norwegian label known for releasing the world’s first audio-only Blu-Ray recording, Divertimenti, which subsequently received three Grammy® nominations. Founded in 2001 by Morten Lindberg, 2L’s mission is to achieve state-of-the-art sound and packaging within all future formats of classical music. “What we are seeing is a completely new conception of the music experience,” said Lindberg. “Recorded music is no longer a matter of a fixed two-dimensional setting, but rather a three-dimensional enveloping situation. Stereo can be described as a flat-canvas, while surround sound is a sculpture that you can literally move around and relate to spatially.”
Of 2L’s many high quality and unique releases, one in particular jumped out at my colleague Collin Rae. He shared it with some of us and I was immediately taken by not only the recording and the music, but with the concept behind it and how it directly correlates to Morten’s statement above. The SACD hybrid/Blu-ray recording that I am speaking of is SONaR, a collaboration of Norwegian composer Magnar Åm and harpist Ellen Sejersted Bødtker. The sound on this recording is immaculate, the compositions and performances are beyond words (for lack of a better description).
We decided that in order to really undertand all aspects of this recording, we needed to go to the source, SO we interviewed Magnar and Ellen! You will find my chat with Magnar below. His thoughts on music and sound are intriguing, scratch that, they are downright fascinating. Let’s just say that he composes pieces that no concert hall in the world can yet accomodate. Why don’t I allow him to explain…
You’ve said “Music matters, as it brings to matter what is of no matter”. How did you become so fascinated by sound and how to make it a physical experience?
My fascination for sound is a gift of birth and heritage. My mother was always singing, even up to the moment when she started to press me out. The inspiration to work with music as something appealing to more than feelings and moods also dates back to childhood. I discovered the sense of orientation and that this sense could be cheated willingly by my own perception. Sitting by the window gazing at the snowflakes falling densely outside, I would after a while have a strong perception that the snowflakes were the reference point hovering motionless in the air and that I instead was in the middle of an upward movement, as if I were lifted weightlessly. This was a blissfull experience which I would seek consciously over and over again during our lovely winters. It was not the beauty or the quiet of the falling snow that attracted me, but the mere physical experience of weightlessness being planted in my body when I let myself be receptable and non-judging of what my eyes were seeing.
Because of that discovery I have been working with music as something that can transfer a physical and mental experience regardless of what likes and dislikes the listener would have. To me, music is not about whether I like it or not, but only about what it does to me when I open up. What I discovered in that early childhood – though not yet consciously – was that our senses can be turned upside down dependent on our thinking about what is reality.
Music has taught me a lot through the years; it has been my friend, helping me to dive into the unknown depths of being and come up with a form to it. In this way it has shown me that my deepest reality is not what I see. Through its physical appearance as sound-waves it has portrayed something non-physical. And it has given me some new traces to follow to make it even more physical and thus more directly effective in transfering the non-physical truth to my senses. It can be used like the visual snowflakes to leave my senses with a dual choice of how to perceive reality.
Can you explain your concept of “three-dimensional sound” and how it applies to SONaR and the techniques used to record it?
Three-dimensional sound is achieved when the sound sources are placed globally around you, that is: on your sides, in front, behind, over and under you. Many of my later acoustic pieces are written for such placement, but there is so far no suitable concert halls or commercial sound format for it. Therefore, an adjustment to the two-dimensional performance is necessary, that is: with the sound sources placed around you on a horizontal level, in front, behind and on your sides. This includes the present surround formats and the possible use of some concert halls. In this connection a stereo format and a traditional performance with the musicians placed in front of the audience will be the one-dimensional version, where everything comes from different points on a single line between left and right in front of you.
On SONaR only dette blanke no (this our virgin now) is written originally for a three-dimensional performance. It is then adjusted to a two-dimensional surround format recording by Morten Lindberg. He let the spatial lines of the score be transfered to a spreading out horizontally in the room so that everything had different distance to the different directional microphones and did the recording in a church of rather long reverberation so that the feeling of a large three-dimensoinal space could be perceived.
The first track on SONaR is vere meininga (be the purpose) for which you also wrote the poetry. Explain the creative process behind this piece and its meaningful text. Had you written the poetry before you decided to set it to music? Or did the music inspire the poetry?
The poetry was born gradually together with the music, as it often is. At some points of the composition process the musical idea appearing would be a spoken word or phrase. When that arises as a musical need I know there is a poem coming, although it is yet as unknown to me as the total music, and I know it will reveal itself and its meaning parallel with the music if I just keep on letting the piece unfold.
vere meininga was originally written for Chinese harp and string sextet. Were there any drastic changes that had to be made when developing this version for Ellen and her European harp?
The most conspicuous change is that of the cadenza. Since Ellen operates both the acoustic and the electric harp the possibilities of the electric harp and the contrast to the acoustic harp had to be made very clear here.
I am incredibly moved by det var mjukt written for soprano and harp. The translation of the text is heart-wrenching, yet uplifting. What prompted the composition of this piece? What mind-set must you be in to accurately musically portray text like this?
The original text is the English one, written by Clark E. Moustakas in his book HEURISTIC RESEARCH, Design, Methodology and Application. I teach a small subject called Intuitive Composition/Improvisation and Music Philosophy at Volda University College. And there we have his book on the syllabus list. When Ellen commissioned a short piece for herself and her son to be placed in between the two harp concertos of the CD I knew I would use Moustaka’s beautiful text, as I was just then citing from his book to my students. So I wrote the song to the English text and then made a translation fitting the music. When time came for the recording, her young son was already facing his break of voice and we decided to let the same soprano as in the last piece sing it.
To musically portray a text like this – or any text – you have to be able to recognize in yourself all the feelings hidden in the words, actually see yourself in the role of the author, and let music arise from there.
When Ellen commissioned dette blanke no, concerto for harp and angels, how did you settle on the concept of timelessness and weightlessness? At one point in the creative process did it become clear that two harps would be required to achieve this goal?
I have experienced that when I try to listen consciously to two or more different pulses simultanuously – and really try to keep track of all pulses, at some point my brain gives up. And as it gives up, there is a loss of sense of time, and to me that is a blissful experience, it’s like coming home. So in dette blanke no (this our virgin now), as the choir enters, to portray this side of “home-coming” there is in the harp part a set of repetitive lines with individually different pulses. For the ear consciously or unconsciously to be able to follow the different lines it was necessary to use different coloring of the harp tone in the different slow pulses and even bring in an additional harp, the electric one.
To remind or give the listener a trace of weightlessness – the other side of “home-coming” – I took the memory of me and the snowflakes and gave it a spatial musical setting, letting sound move three-dimensionally the same way.
Collin Rae, Naxos of America’s Marketing and Special Projects Manager, recently started a series of email discussions with composers, which have been posted on PMS #286 Appreciation Society, the Naxos of America blog. This discussion with composer David Lang yielded some interesting answers— including one heck of a 15-track music compilation!
In February of this year I began an email exchange with composer (and Bang on a Can) member David Lang. A few months previous (November of ‘08) Naxos released a fantastic and intriguing CD of David’s compositions titled Pierced. Then in January of ‘09 Medici Arts / EUROARTS released Bang on a Can’s Music for Airports DVD (a brilliant aural and visual experience based upon the Eno composition of course) which aslo came through Naxos of America. It was in fact this email exchange with David and our discussion about his music that inspired me to do this series of artist interviews.
What I find so fascinating about David’s music is its direct sonic link to what we now call “Indie Rock”. His homage to the Velvet Underground is a fine illustration of this link. It is however pieces like Pierced and Cheating, Lying, Stealing with their organic and almost awkward loops, the spaces and hesitations that flow within that circular-like sound which really grab and propell the listener. There are moments where I feel like I’m listening to some form of post-modernly abstract electronica. Enough of this! Here’s David.
CR: What are 5 recordings (different genres if possible) that shaped / shapes your personal musical landscape? DAVID:-The Joseph Papp production of the Ralph Mannheim translation of Brecht / Weill Three Penny Opera
-The (1973?) Steve Reich recording of Violin Phase and It’s Gonna Rain
-Leonard Bernstein’s first recordings of Shostakovich’s 1st and 9th Symphonies
-The first Velvet Underground record, with the Andy Warhol yellow banana cover
-Bob Dylan – World Gone Wrong
CR: Now speaking specifically about “Classical Music” what pieces / composers have totally blown your mind and helped shape who you are sonically today? DAVID:
Glass – Einstein on the Beach
Reich – Drumming
Stockhausen – Stimmung
Berlioz – Harold in Italy
Machaut – Messe de Notre Dame
Andreissen – De Staat
Bach – Goldberg Variations
CR: Can you give us 5 visuals that helped shape that person that is you….these could be moments, a cereal box, a toy, a piece of art, a movie, a television show…whatever… DAVID: I am not at all a visual person.
CR: We talk a lot about cultures and sub-cultures and how it pertains to music and art, what “culture” do you see you and your music being part of? What “Sub-culture / Subcultures” do you or have you indentified with and why / how? DAVID: My sub-culture is a kind of no-mans-land between experimental classical and experimental pop musics. One of the interesting things going on right now is that classical music’s gravitational field is pretty weak, and creative young musicians who in past centuries would have been steered towards classical music now go straight to indie pop. there is now a growing part of the pop world that wants its music to be questioning, unusual, uncompromising, not always easy or pleasant to listen to. Those are all the traits we used to want from new classical music as well….
CR: Can you put into words your creative process? DAVID: I like to think about why I like the things I like. What this means compositionally is that a lot of my music comes from examining myself, about why certain kinds of music make me feel good or bad. the piece that won the Pulitzer – ‘the little match girl passion’ – began with me thinking about how strange it is that Jewish classical music lovers spend so much time loving music from the past that worships Jesus. Christianity is central to much of the canon of western music – I know more about Christianity than many Christians I know, simply because I love Bach and Monteverdi and Perotin. After years of thinking about how weird this was I decided to write a piece about it. Likewise, my piece ‘pierced’ came out of years of thinking about the history of the concerto – how we take it for granted that a musical form is about a certain kind of argument between an individual and a group, a heroic depiction of the struggle of one noble person changing all society. What if we wanted to make a piece that was based on a different model of human interaction? What if a concerto was about two groups of people ignoring each other, but whose mutual ignorance added up to something that neither group could achieve by itself? I wrote ‘pierced’ after years of thinking such thoughts.
CR: When do you feel you do your best work? DAVID: When my children get off to school in the morning I am so happy to be in alone my studio that I find it very easy to work!
CR: What are you working on this very moment? DAVID: I am rewriting Beethoven’s only opera FIDELIO – not the music, which of course is amazing and utterly untouchable, but the libretto, which has real problems, and which Beethoven himself knew needed some help. I am making my own version of the story, taking out most of the mushy love stuff and focusing on the politics.
CR: Can you create for me a 15 track compilation of music / sound (list the pieces you would put on this compilation) DAVID: in no particular order:
-Kurt Weill – ballad in which macheath begs all men for forgiveness
-Pere ubu – the modern dance
-Michael Gordon – yo, shakespeare
-Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen – din tavshed
-Evan Ziporyn – tsmindao ghmerto
-Radiohead – everything in its right place
-julia wolfe – early that summer
-John Cage – six melodies
-Brian Eno – music for airports, 1:1
-Marc Blitzstein – the nickel under your foot
-X – the world’s a mess it’s in your kiss
-Frank Zappa – willie the pimp part 2, from fillmore east
-Xenakis – psappha
-Glenn Branca – lesson #1
-Meredith Monk – facing north
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