Thoughts on curating a performance

Back when I started this blog, one of the first posts I wrote about was in regards to my thoughts surrounding the programming of new music. You can fine those by following the links below.

What is in a performance Part 1
What is in a performance Part 2

So I went back and read these, one thing I have expressed in the past, and have impressed upon me heavily by one of mentors and a conductor I am fortunate to work with Michael Lewanski is this concept that as artists we form opinions, these are opinions we feel strong about and try to express them in our art. Those opinions should continue to change and evolve even if it means changing your mind. So in that spirit I am going to pull a few key points from the earlier posts and highlight them here, though if you have time, have a read and build an opinion, especially if it is contradictory, then we can talk about that.

1. I always strive to have some kind of internal consistency that help pull things together, OR helps progress the concert from work to work in a way that you can go from Gabrieli to Globokar.
2. The more radical a program becomes the more I am aware of this since people (me included) can only take so much.
3. I try to avoid programming works that are very similar, if I do I need to find a way to give the listener time to digest things
4. The Audience is the king, they buy tickets, they tell their friends, they literally feed us, both in food and in the ability to acquire more food. That being said, Everything starts from what WE want to present. We then find a way to balance things so that the audience walks away and remembers what they say.

We will stick to these four points.

It's funny remember when I said we can change our minds, wow do I ever feel that way. That is a big reason I decided to come back to this idea. So before we dig into past Mat's mind I want to start with a few key thoughts. These thoughts stretch beyond new music in my mind and are just things that I feel are important.

First and this is something I have really been thinking about these past few months is the difference between programming a concert, and curating a performance. I think these are very different processes that have a big impact on what we present and how an audience responds to them. First though let's set some terms straight here.  

Below are three definitions of curating from the Institute of Cultural Practices:

Definition 1“Curating is the process by which a physical or virtual space is designed and formulated to include a collated, selected, interpreted and intended concept, which can be articulated through a variety of media” 

Definition 2“The organisation, discussion and presentation of information including objects, facts and opinions, in order to create value and meaning to be understood by the public” 

Definition 3“Curating is examining, researching and documenting a collection with the aim of making it accessible to the public. This is done through careful interpretation of the objects, space and text to curate an informative exhibition”

So first of all we see that this idea of curating is more complex then Merriam-Webster would have one believe. 

Where does this leave us in regards to programming vs curating? Here is a scenario for you, our example performer really enjoys playing Strauss and has been waiting to tackle the Second horn Concerto. They also need an unaccompanied work so they stick with a well known work like the Malcolm Arnold fantasy. They also program the Mozart horn quintet and the Gliere Valse Triste as they are both really nice works they enjoy that they want to perform.

The above is how "programming" tends to happen, at least in my experience. For the sake of today we are talking solo recital. Curating a concert around Strauss' second Horn Concerto would be a very different process. For me it would begin with asking a series of questions to myself. 

1. What other pieces would I like to perform (this is the same as above except we are going deeper)

2. Do the pieces work together. The answer to this is not a simple yes or no, we have to consider many different variables.

3. Why do these pieces matter, and why would the audience care. Pieces may matter in other situations, but not when in a set.

4. If the pieces do in fact work together what is the element that connects them. There is a good chance that it is something you never considered. It could be a formal consistency, or formal inconsistency, how we listen, etc. There needs to be, in my opinion some kind of connection.

5. Start looking for new pieces, since your greatest hits won't work. So this step is here since the hard reality that a program comprised of our favourites is very much a mix-tape made for yourself. It can be cold, impersonal, and very disconnected as many recitals tend to be. Think about when you made a mix tape back in the 90s for someone, you slaved for hours to make it perfect, to let songs flow into one-another or clash in conflict. That is the kind of thing we are after, we understand that for there to be meaning to others it takes a complicated effort.

6. Keep repeating steps 2 - 5 until you have a program with a purpose, something unique we cant just stream online.

So that is my process now. It has evolved from where I was before. So let us go back to those 4 points and pull them apart for the present.

• I always strive to have some kind of internal consistency that help pull things together, OR helps progress the concert from work to work in a way that you can go from Gabrieli to Globokar.

On the surface this is something I still believe in. I would probably never write the sentance that way now, but that is another thing. This idea really relates back to my curating process, but it was still in it's infancy and lacked complexity and depth.

• The more radical a program becomes the more I am aware of this since people (me included) can only take so much.

Well I can put this one out to pasture as I don't really believe in it anymore. In some way I think this idea existed because of a lack of the third point in my curating process. Which is to say I was still making a mix-tape for myself. The next two points are in ways byproducts of this idea, so I will save the big finish until the end.

• I try to avoid programming works that are very similar, if I do I need to find a way to give the listener time to digest things

If an audience needs time to "digest things" you, or me, as a curator have not done your job. It i one thing to feel overwhelmed as a listener but to require time is the byproduct of our good old fashioned mix-tape. There obviously are exceptions, if you have never heard an electronic piece before and the first thing you hear is something incredibly dense and complex you may blow your mental CPU, but that is the listeners job to address. We, as serious performers have no job pandering to the listener, or to underestimate the intelligence of them.

• The Audience is the king, they buy tickets, they tell their friends, they literally feed us, both in food and in the ability to acquire more food. That being said, Everything starts from what WE want to present. We then find a way to balance things so that the audience walks away and remembers what they say.

The audience is NOT in charge. End of story, it is the performer, the composer, the conflict between the live performer interpreting ink that is important and relationships that exist. I programmed a recital this year I was REALLY worried may have been "too far" for the circumstances. It turns out the time spent painstakingly curating the program paid off. I performed 5 works, and in the process explored the possibilities of 14 total works, some are on a list to be played later, some I moved on from. What I have learned, which Tom Varner express in a great way is that:

Your audience is usually happy to go on a ride that they 

have not been on before. 

In the end I believe we owe it to our audience to treat them intelligently, yes they are there to support us, or music, but they can also be looking for something new, something they never thought of.

Just a thought.

Busy, not gone

So I realized how long it has been since my last post. I thought it could be advantageous to check in with a few things. First, on the 7th of April I excitedly got to give the American premiere to Leilia Tian's Om for horn and electronics, as well as the world premiere of Jordan Kusel's "a cold surrogate, a penance play" for amplified horn, max/msp, electronics, and video. ON THE SAME PROGRAM! Which was a great experience all in all. Those pieces shared the bill with Jan Koetsier's Skurrile Elgie for R. Wagner for Wagner Tuba and string quartet, Madelien Isakkson's Tjarnoga - O Bla, and Serge Acuri's Lueres for horn, percussion, and tape. Was a good night recordings will come soon.

In addition I am starting to use my youtube channel again, check that out here: My Channel 

I am currently working on a set of etudes (composing that is) for horn and electronics. They will explore various aspects of working with electronics, yet will be accessible and hopefully help facilitate strategies that can be applied to larger more complex works. So if you want to be a guinea pig, let me know in the comments below! Would love some feedback etc.

Hit that +1, share. Drop a line below! More details, recordings, etc. coming soon.

"Faking" it

So the title of this post is misleading, sorry, but that is just what it is. This post will be back about my learning process and Nebadon, and what I am doing with this work. Though it is worth noting that this is one of my big concept things I feel strongly about, especially towards new music. For now, let's jump back on starship Stockhausen and depart for Nebadon (nerd alert).

One thing I truly respect about Stockhausen's music is by and large it is rather quite playable, that is not saying it is easy, it is actually rather difficult. It is full of little things that at first look simple but turn out to be either complex or downright ludicrous, be it in it's coordination, execution, or simply playing it with a beautiful sound. I will put two examples of this on here.

So above are those two examples. There is nothing really complicated about the patterns, they present some challenges, but again, nothing to lose that much sleep over. (Ignore my markings since that is some analysis and such that I have talked in brief about before). So back to the challenges that exist in these examples. With the first example, the challenge is can you make a nice clean shift between open and stopped, maintain pitch, while entering delicately on a higher pitch. BUT, the priority here should be can you do it with the singing sound that you would use in Brahms, or Schubert.

Example number two, the challenge is facility in the low range, clarity, a good trill, and a resonant sound. This is good enough for a sub par version of this lick (which appears in various permutations throughout the entire work (over 20 minutes!!) It is a tricky little lick, but executing it has to be a guarantee, not a good enough.), what I am truly striving for is can I make a "majestic" or "interesting" musical line out of the material, in such a way that nobody notices this slightly unidiomatic horn lick.

Since Stockhausen writes music that is very playable I am going to pull an example from another work I am preparing that is more towards the... "are you kidding me? I'm not a bass clarinet" kind of lick." Which will help me make my bigger picture point.

As you can see, this is a little further away idiomatically from something horn players are used to seeing. (The work is full of this, and it grows in complexity, and each permutation you get LESS variance in what pitches you need to draw attention towards.) So this is the kind of lick my title was referring to, Faking it. Anyone who knows me knows that when I hear someone say "I can just fake that" is akin to nails on a chalkboard. So I think I will take  moment to explain that, and as well relate it back to Stockhausen, and Sirus (dork) in general. 

If you have ever been to a new music concert, you have heard (and probably in great supply) faking. Otherwise known as, kind of making the gesture. Now, some of you have probably made it to see a concert of new music that seemed to be so insanely good there must have been some witchcraft going on. Well, there was no witchcraft, you probably heard someone(s) who had spent countless hours getting it AS CLOSE to the ink as possible (while keeping a wonderful, intune, captivating sound, that is full of musical gesture). If you imagine playing Beethoven and the player beside you is "faking" it, you would know they were not up to par, and that person would most likely not be in that chair next concert. Could you imagine a concert of Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra with a string section full of faking it (you probably can...). When you compare those to performances where they "nailed it" why would you ever buy the other product.

As a performer I feel obligated to make sure I can play the music as well as I can. If that means I have to woodshed a lick up until the day of the concert that is what I will do, I can't personally accept "faking" it as an answer for any kind of music. So back to Nebadon, I am focusing on always having this wonderful sound that is full of colour and intrigue. My sound model is the same that I would use playing Cello Suites (in C) on horn. If someone froze time on a single note, I wouldn't want them to think that I was playing some strange modern music (or isn't good...). I would want them to be able to say what a great resonate note, he must be playing some Schubert. (Then when time resumes they would be in for a treat)

 This isn't a problem unique to new music but it seems to be a slightly more accepted practice for one reason or another.

What is in a performance Part 2

So this time around I felt like talking a bit more in detail about the nature of programming this style of music.

I wrote this awhile back and never published it anywhere, but I think it will find its home in this series of posts I am working on. (So if the voice is a little strange I was writing for a less casual posting.. so I had my serious pants on that day)

As someone who is active in new music I am always facing certain challenges that are not as present when programming from the conventional cannon. These challenges can be seen as opportunity for an immersive experience for the audience, if thoughtfully planned.

One challenge is that of the perceived expectation of new music. Robert Blumen talked about at great length in his article “Why do we hate modern classical music”, I won’t get into this article since I don’t think I could keep it brief, at all (though if you want to raise your blood pressure, go give it a read, and try to be polite. This article also highlights how the terminology we use can be harmful. I hate using the phrase "modern classical music, or anything close. This music has it's own genre, there is no need to try to borrow from another. Rant over). What he does bring to the front though, is that people expect modern music to sound like “car crash” music. I assume those reading this are well aware this is not the case, nor is this an opinion that I share in the least. There is a tremendous amount of great music out there and some of that “car crash” music he speaks about is some of the greatest in the cannon. This creates a unique for us, especially as performers that is: how on earth will we get this music out in a way that is going to be meaningful.

One of the most used (read: abused) tactics I have seen is referred to as “The hostage program”. This is where you program a monumental, popular, and a largely accepted work at the end of a program, or have it share the first half of the bill. This is done largely so people don’t have the chance to show up at intermission to hear only their favorites. While we are going down that road while you are at it scrap the intermission, now people are there to stay (I have seen this done, and it usually ends with a very fidgety upset audience). This hostage method works to some degree as you do create exposure for the audience this is largely due to the “rules” of concert halls related to seating. If you want to hear Brahms, you have to hear Mason Bates, or R Murray Schaffer.

Last year I programmed a recital with Turnarounds for amplified horn and tape, Spiegel im Spiegel, Deanimator for horn and electronics, and finishing with The Reinecke B-flat trio for horn, clarinet, and piano. Though, while programming this I fell a new way that I could approach programing. The intermission in the afore mentioned program came AFTER Deanimator which left me to figure out how do I program the first half, and to do so in a way that people leave with a great experience. A major problem/opportunity with electronic music (in programming in my opinion) is how quickly it can cause tension, emotional highs and lows, angst, relief, etc. When the recital was in its infancy there were two works that were going to be there no matter what, Turnarounds, and Deanimator. Two things these works do (both fantastic works) is taking the audience through highs and lows at a rapid pace in ways that can be overwhelming the listener. When I realized this I figured I needed to find a piece that would bring the listener back to a calm, and relaxed state. As well they needed to be ready and receptive to the experience the next work.

The answer came to me in Arvo Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel, now as a horn player, attempting the Pärt was, perhaps, the most challenging undertaking I could think of at the time. Which was daunting, and more than once I considered my mortality, and thought to myself there had to be another way. Though, I could never seem to find one that would work as well as the Pärt. So as a performer I faced the challenge. In the end the response from the programming of the first half from the audience was great, they didn’t care there was a “masterpiece of the repertoire” coming after the intermission. The first half was so successful as a whole it simply worked and didn’t need the “treat for the audience” of the Reinecke.

From all this I learned a major lesson in programming new music, if we want the music to become more popular, appreciated, and accepted it has to come from the performer and programming. As well as through very meaningful execution of the music since we have something that the standard cannon doesn’t have as much of, the importance of the live performance. New music is such an immersive experience which simply can’t be replicated at home in a pair of headphones. Seize the power of that and go forth and program.