This piece started as a song that I set, for a lark, on a random piece of text. That melody became the first theme. I abandoned the text and started adding instruments, themes, and material. I had a narrative in mind (it's my secret, and I'll never tell), which I abandoned once the piece had a form that worked. And then came the countless hours of work making sure the right notes end up being in the right places. It is not a thankless task because every little improvement is cause for personal celebration. A lot of little improvements add up, and the piece ends up being better.
Some people ask how composers know when a piece of music is finished. It would be nice if a piece could be finished when you make that final double bar, like the way it is depicted in the (very) occasional movie about one composer or another. But the double bar just signifies the ending point of the piece. For me that is where most of the hard work begins. Sometimes I decide a piece is finished when I get tired of working on it. Once what has been running through my head long day and night (all day and all night) is accurately represented by what is written down, and what is written down is in a form that makes physical sense to play, it is done. When I cannot find ways to improve it, it is done.
I did toy with the idea of adding another movement, thus postponing the void created by not having this piece as my companion; but I abandoned that idea because I felt the piece was the right length.
So now I'm writing a blog post about it because I guess I am having a bit of difficulty letting go of it.
The score and parts are on this page of the IMSLP. You can also listen to a computer-generated recording here.
I guess I'll go practice some scales now.
2 comments:
Congratulations! That's a wonderful piece. To me it feels like the piano keeps the ever forward motion going, giving the strings the freedom and space to create all those colors and shadings. It took me through a range of emotions. And for what it's worth, the music voice/personality here feels so much like your blogging voice/personality I've gotten to know over the years. I can see why it's sticking with you; it feels like a major achievement. (And you probably already know this, but in Swafford's recent Beethoven bio he talks about how Beethoven often had plot lines in his head when he wrote, but always kept them to himself.)
Thank you so much, Lyle!
I'd say more, but I just can't get the right combination of words to thank you properly.
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