Showing posts with label Morton Feldman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morton Feldman. Show all posts

Friday, May 10, 2013

Busy month, April was.


We had a wonderful trip to Aroostook County late last month. On the 24th and 25th I played two solo concerts, at the University of Maine branches at Presque Isle and Fort Kent. The program, which I titled American Landscapes, included:

Excursions    Samuel Barber

Thoreau (Mvt. IV of the Concord Sonata)    Charles E. Ives

Three Pieces for Piano   Morton Feldman

Three Preludes    George Gershwin

Mad Rush   Philip Glass

Seascape   Scott Brickman

Variations on Amazing Grace   John Newell

Scott Brickman is a wonderful composer who teaches at Fort Kent. I really enjoyed playing the first performances of Scott's Seascape, which he wrote for me.

The following week I participated in a concert by the University of Machias Chorale, under the direction of Gene Nichols. The group did a superb job in performing five of my choral works.












Monday, October 1, 2012


More on inspiration and work, contributed by others 
(LinkedIn -- Contemporary Music Professionals Group): 
"I sit down to the piano regularly at nine-o'clock in the morning and Mesdames les Muses have learned to be on time for that rendezvous," said by Pyotr Tchaikovsky and quoted in Schafer, British Composers in Interview (1963).  -- David Kosviner
Your Matisse citation about work and inspiration reminds me of the anecdote you probably have heard, about Paul Hindemith. A student at one of his Tanglewood seminars asked him 'What's your inspiration?' Hindemith wordlessly replied by raising his pencil in his hand -- indicating that the juices commence flowing in the physical (somatic) act of setting down notes on paper.  -- David Owens

Monday, September 17, 2012


Edgard Varese & Morton Feldman: What did I learn?

I studied with Morton Feldman at SUNY Buffalo (1975 - 77) as the first holder of the Edgard Varese Fellowship in composition. I'm sure that Feldman named the fellowship himself, and know that he regarded Varese very highly.

How can I express the essence of what I learned in those years? A few years ago I came across this passage by Paul Griffiths in the program notes for the CD Boulez Conducts Varese (on the Deutsche Grammophon label). Griffiths sums it up beautifully:

"After the explosion of Ameriques Varese honed his technique in pieces for smaller groupings - Hyperprism, Octandre, Integrales - before returning to the large orchestra to create Arcana (1925-27). This was a closer approach to his ideal of music in which the sounds themselves, by virtue of their force and energy, would create structural demands - for repetition, calming, change, recollection - quite independently of any pre-ordained scheme: music as a play of sheer, vital sonority."

Many thanks.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

My training in composition

What was my training as a composer? I've tended to think that it was pretty traditional (I mean, traditional for the time). Was that true? Actually, no. Was I self taught? In some ways, yes.


The most traditional academic part of my training was as an undergraduate at Duke, where I studied theory, history, piano; but with only a semester of orchestration and two semesters of conducting. I really don't remember if I formally studied composition with Iain Hamilton. Upon reflection, I think that the answer is no. I was on my own, and completed a couple of pieces as an undergraduate, a piano solo work and a piece for brass quintet, inspired by Stockhausen's Momente.


Instead of pursuing the Ivy League (Yale, Columbia, Princeton -- post-Webern) or the Conservatory (Eastman, Juilliard -- more traditional craft-oriented) paths, I went to CalArts, then in its second year of existence. California… that was a different experience. Interestingly, my composition teacher was Mel Powell, from Yale and a member of the Ivy League school. I rarely had lessons. Mel was too involved as Dean of the School of Music in organizational issues. I have great respect for him, but remember mostly his classes in analyzing Webern works. I do remember hearing for the first time music of Steve Reich, Terry Riley and Phillip Glass at CalArts. "California" composers Harold Budd and Jim Tenney were also on the faculty, but I didn't formally work with them. In fact, I didn't formally work with anyone -- just absorbed a lot. Students were pretty much on our own. It was tough for the undergrads, but having gained the basics in theory, piano, etc. it was much easier for me as a grad student, especially as I was fairly self-directed. I have always felt that, at its heart, education is about growth, exploration and learning, not about preparation for a career.

Then SUNY at Buffalo. Mel was evidently a friend of Morton Feldman, one of the ultimate non-academic composers. Morty had just been named Edgard Varese professor at SUNY. The piece that got me into SUNY, I believe, was what one might term a "minimalist" piano piece - it was a study in changes of register and density, based on a simple scale and chord set. Morty was what I consider my only real teacher. What I learned from him:

listen, and trust your ear. (The "urgency of now." I'm not sure where that phrase comes from, but it is on my mind this morning.) One of the very profound things I remember him saying about composition: "choose your poison."


I had lessons at his apartment. My strongest memory is of him hunched over the piano (his eyesight was very poor), looking at the music paper in front of him, playing and listening intently to chords and single notes at the piano. He lived in the world of each piece as it unfolded. As he completed a page of score he would tape it to a bedroom wall, in sequence with the previously completed pages, so that he so he could stand and "walk through" the piece, looking at it closely, to see it unfolding. His trust in himself was terrific. As he completed composing a page of music he would immediately copy it (in ink and on vellum). Actually, I now do somewhat the same in many works. When I trust what I have done, which is usually pretty quickly, I begin "copying" it. Today that means putting it into my notation software. And yes, I still have my ink pens and black ink, even many pages of blank vellum that I will probably never use (never say never).


I have never belonged to any "school" of composition. There are so many these days. In our world it is almost impossible to escape the multiplicity of styles and approaches. Yes, I was influenced by Morty's style for awhile; my own style evolved, though I think that my works still reflect his intuitive approach, of using the ear. It may be hard to pin down my "style" if you listen to more than one of my works, or even more than one movement of a given work. There might appear to be different styles being used in the same work. But it is always a question of my intent, my inspiration, and using what I need in order to accomplish my intent at a given moment. The variety in my works displays different aspects of my sensibility, identity and experience.


If one asked, I would say that these are the composers who have made the greatest impression on me:


Stravinsky

Debussy

Schoenberg

Feldman

Hildegard von Bingen

Beethoven

And now Schubert


There are of course many more.