“Little by Little,” it gets done
The sweeping vistas here have definitely helped to ease some of the strain I feel being kept indoors for so long.
After too long a hiatus from the blog, I’m thrilled to share what has been keeping so busy for the last month! There’s too much to get through in one post, so keep an eye out for new posts over the next few days! In the meantime, let’s get right into it!
I think we all know that feeling one gets when there’s a big project looming over everything for months, and the absolute relief the conclusion of these projects can bring! For the past few months, I’ve had two such projects and I’m so excited to share more about them.
Little by Little
This work was originally commissioned by percussionist-composer, Marco Schirripa, as part of the Project 12 series. However, what started as a plan for a short work for found percussion and theatrics has since blossomed into a substantial, quasi-performance-art work. I’m so grateful to Marco for his infinite patience and understanding as I hashed out details about the text involved, the logistics of different performance settings, specific gestures, notation, and—of course—actually writing the piece! Both of us have been committed to making this a substantial, meaningful work and I couldn’t have asked for a better collaborator on such an ambitious and deeply personal project.
The work deals with the desolation of routine. Throughout lockdown, I’ve had so many conversations with friends and colleagues about their routines and daily rituals—things in their day they came to rely on during the early stages of the lockdown that eventually led them to feel despondent, isolated, aggravated, and trapped. I wanted to explore this spiral and the routines themselves—what do we choose to fill our day with, how do we think these routines will serve us, and what fears, anxieties, or insecurities do these routines reveal about us at their most fundamental level?
The set-up for the performer includes six stations, set up around a long card table that sits perpendicular to the stage. Each station contains a different set of items (one has a book and a pencil, another has a pillow and stuffed animal, one is just body percussion, etc.). The performer travels to each of these stations in order, like a clock, ending with the body-percussion station that faces out to the audience at the front of the stage. Throughout the course of the work, the performer cycles through these stations a total of 5 times. Over the course of these cycles, the text starts to have words removed to reveal a hidden layer of text. The gestures begin with realistic interactions with the objects, getting increasingly musical with each rotation. The final cycles culminate in dramatic, theatrical gestures that leave the performer at the front of the stage to ask one question.
The piece was extremely difficult to write for several reasons:
Inventing notation for non-traditional instruments and the wide array of gestures available. For example, one of my stations includes a metal can and some loose change, so I needed to figure out how to notate gestures like: shifting coins between hands, scraping coins on the inside of the can, hitting the table with the can, hitting the can with hands, spinning coins on the table, dropping coins into the can, shifting coins around the surface of the table, etc. and there are five other stations!
Setting up the format for the score. If memorization isn’t an option, I had to figure out the easiest way for a performer to read their music while doing a lot of movement. This meant, instead of a traditional score that flows from beginning to end with each part on display, I had to make individual parts for each station. I also had to make sure that it was very clear where to look as they arrived to new stations, and left enough time in transitions to execute any page turns.
Composing convincing transitions between stations was tricky. I had to make sure 1) each station was left with objects in their correct positions for the next rotation, 2) there was enough time to travel between the stations, and 3) there was a convincing musical reason to move to the next station. A work like this could easily feel choppy and trudging if the transitions don’t flow seamlessly. Figuring out how to justify movement from something like a book and a pencil to a metal can with coins, or from some toys and a plastic bucket to a bowl and utensils was a tricky process.
Testing out sounds in my living situation was very difficult. I live in a 1-bedroom apartment with my partner, and he is often on video calls for work. I couldn’t rattle a can of coins or shout text to test things out, so I had to quietly imitate certain gestures and use my imagination for others. While imagining sounds is a large part of composing, it was made all the more difficult by the fact that our building’s exterior has been having work done for the last few months, and loud workers trying to communicate to coworkers on the rooftop, squeaky equipment, and drilling (so much drilling!!) made for some aggravating composing sessions. Between noisy workers during the day, noisy neighbors in the evenings (why are they hammering the floor??), and the scattering of various downtown soundmakers (garbage trucks, emergency vehicles, construction on the block over, the train that stops in front of our building, cars honking, people yelling at each other), it was sometimes hard to hear my inner voice! If I had access to a vehicle, I may have taken a day or two to drive somewhere quiet and get some work done, but we make do with what we have!
The dark tone of the piece was also difficult to get through. The ending of this piece isn’t necessarily despairing or hopeful—it ends with a question—but the journey there is…a lot. Unlike some creators that channel their emotional moments into artistic creation, I really have a difficult time writing if I’m sad, angry, anxious, etc. When I’m overcome with emotion, I need to take time away from work and get outside or talk to someone. Pieces with darker subject matter, especially regarding a topic that I’m personally experiencing, can be really taxing mentally to write. I learned the hard way a few years ago what pushing through my body’s warning signs will do (it’s hard to learn you’re not invincible), and I’ve actually found I’m getting a lot more done taking care of myself than I ever did “pushing through pain” or pulling double-all-nighters.
These challenges compiled with a family medical emergency (everyone is fine now!) made the last few months very difficult in finishing this work, but it is finally complete and I’m really excited to work with Marco on bringing Little by Little to life! Marco and I hope to collaborate over the summer to hone some final details, and are planning for a fall 2021 premiere.
Go(i)ng Me(n)tal
Almost a year ago, I was approached by composer Drew Morris (who has a great new album out) about writing for an unusual instrumentation. Drew and his colleague, percussionist Chris Scherer, have written, performed, and/or commissioned countless works for the Thought Form Collective, a chamber ensemble that specializes in contemporary music. Along with an enviable hoard of other percussion equipment, Chris owns an astounding set of gongs—spanning three chromatic octaves. Drew hoped I would be able to write something for the two of them to perform that would use the entirety of this impressive set of gongs. Almost a year later, the result is a 12-minute work comprised of three movements.
Each movement of the work uses a distinct octave of Chris’s set up. In this way, percussionists who want to perform this work can do at least one movement without investing in an entire 3-octave set. It also allows for Drew and Chris to only bring a subset of the gongs if they want to include part of this piece on a tour, while still giving them the option to be one of very few groups who can perform the work in its entirety. Each movement also covers a different composition challenge I wanted to address in my writing. The title, Go(i)ng Me(n)tal both reflects the main reason for the commission (Gong Metal), but also how I was feeling throughout lockdown—each movement similarly highlights an emotion I felt during the pandemic while using a metal-related word.
Irony
This first movement explores metric modulation. I composed several short motives (only a bar or two), and then put them through various metric modulations and orders. The metric modulations are further highlighted by use of a kickdrum to outline the main pulse. The use of both gongs and metal pipes (the use of which was requested by Drew) creates a kind of metal cathedral, providing a simultaneously dark and vibrant soundscape for the listener to wander around in. I called this piece Irony to reflect the nebulous changes in tempo. Some of these changes are overt and very noticeable, while others are more subtle and obfuscated. The effect lies somewhere between bold and mysterious, and serves to draw the listener in to the rest of the piece.
Lead Astray
In this movement, I focused on making tonal shifts. I tend to fall back on modes a lot when composing, and thought this would be a good opportunity for me to explore some other tonalities and strategies for shifting to new key areas. The vibraphone coupled with the lowest octaves of gongs gives this movement a much sweeter, warmer tone—something I thought suited the more melodic material rather well. I really wanted to give the gongs a melody to work with in this movement to showcase their versatility, even in this lower octave. A few bright punctuations from suspended cymbals and triangles help to provide contrast in this more trance-like movement.
Silver Linings
This is by far the most high-energy movement of the three, using the highest gongs. Their smaller size makes them ideal for faster passages, as the distance between them is far shorter than in the lower octaves. I have a tough time getting myself to write tutti gestures (I just want everyone to have their own fun, unique part okay!!!), so in this movement I made a rule that any non-metal sounds had to be paired with a metallic sound (and vice-versa). While I didn’t do this note for note, I stayed fairly true to this rule throughout the movement. For example, wooden planks or bongos in the second percussion part are always paired with either the gongs or cymbals from the first percussion part. Thus, even while the individual parts themselves have a lot of counterpoint, the overall sound remains rather clean-cut and linear.
Later This Week
A lot more finished music to talk about later this week! I’m so excited to share more about the Spring Forward pieces I’ve finished, and the progress I’ve made on my other two large projects. Next week I will also be making an exciting announcement about the Commissions from Quarantine solos/duos, so check back soon!
Happy music-making, everyone!
