An "Ain't" Addendum

No one teases the bejeezus out of "Bringing in the Sheaves," like Chas Ives
Every night, Barry fights to keep it in.
From the Bureau of Sentimental Claptrap: “We don’t have tomorrow, but we had yesterday.”
Il n’y a personne ici, sauf nous les poulets.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Schoenberg remains; those who cannot understand him come and go.

— Chas Wuorinen

Something I meant to say as a reflection upon our first rehearsal for the November concert at King’s Chapel: Even as I know that I should not make the reading of this blog at all tedious for you, the Reader, and must not therefore keep sounding a sour note, I’ve struggled to remain optimistic as a composer trying to make a name for himself. The paucity of performances in whose organization I am not directly involved. The considerable body of music which (although eminently likeable) sits unperformed. All the scores I submit to calls which result only in the latest rejection. If I had perhaps begun to feel that I was something of a failure, I’m deeply grateful to my colleagues for Monday’s session made me feel again that I really am a composer. To this quixotic end I decided to write another chamber orchestra piece, 15 minutes in duration. I’ll reserve my provisional title as I suspect it’s really off-puttingly sentimental and I strongly suspect a change even before I get to notes. I set up the file in Sibelius (Opus 192) but—as just suggested—there are as yet no notes. I felt like shaking up my process a bit, just for a change-up. It’s a long time since I’ve done this, but I’m graphing the piece out and shall work in from the abstract. This work, I have begun.

The picture is Michelangelo’s David bricked up for protection during the throes of the Second World War.