Let's Dance

 Although it turned out that he had said something very different, what I heard, happily free of context was: “I’d rather marry Yoda.” This was, frankly, of greater interest than the actual discourse.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes,

We convince by our presence.

— Walt Whitman

Is it a sad number? Well, we’re still dancing. I finished The Dance at Ruin’s Edge, Op. 209 today, Part of the piece is a kind of echo of some shakuhachi music I listened to recently. I called Peter to apologize. The piece calls for bass flute, which it is no picnic to hold and play. at four minutes or so, the piece is not unreasonable in that way way, but requiring Peter to schlep a bass along with his C and Alto Flutes is no inconsiderable burden.

The Dance Goes On

 TFW it’s a three-dog night, and all you’ve got is a single irritable gerbil.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

But he had always treasured one particular idea drawn from the philosophy of Indian music above all — its thinking about silence. According to Indian theory, silence – anhad – lies at the heart of music, and anhad made audible is the primordial, indivisible sound, nad, or Nad Brahma, nad as the supreme reality made audible. It is only through experiencing Nad Brahma that we can lose ourselves in the eternal silent ocean of anhad. An echo of nad is to be heard in the endless dhran drones of the tanpura that underpin Indian music – and surely, then, it was also to be heard in the drones of his pipes. Finally he learned that it is only through the striking of two objects together – aghat, from the verb 'to wound' – that nad can be produced out of anhad. So — vulnerability, the piercing of the senses and of the heart, the pain of wounded silence: only from this can music be born. It was a beautiful, humble way of thinking about sound, and it always reminded him of his responsibility as a musician: to make sound I must destroy silence — is what I am playing worthy of this?
— I posted this on Facebook some years ago, but do not now remember the source at all, at all.

With all our family basically trying to feel better from this onerous flu-like ailment, it is some weeks since I’ve felt I had any steam for composing, and when I have reflected on that, I’ve found it mildly vexatious. Today, methought I would make a go at applying a little discipline (ma non troppo) and I made good progress on the Opus 209. Perhaps two weeks have passed since I composed the first four-ish measure of The Dance at Ruin’s Edge, the new trio for piccolo, bass flute and bassoon for the April program. One peculiarity is: m. 29 ff. feels like the genuine ending for the piece, so there will be creative insertion, but not today.

Going Trio for April

 The date rarely figures in my dreams, so when it does, of course it goes funny. Dreamt that the date was January 48th. You can imagine my puzzlement. Almost everyone I asked agreed that January should have 31 days, except one who suggested, "Maybe it was decided to have 50 days in January this year.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Confidence is what you have before you understand the problem.

— Woody Allen

It turns out that we shall be a threesome for our April concert in King’s Chapel. Dennis and Chris are graciously assisting with there-org by writing anew. And indeed Chris has just finished a superb six-minute piece for us: Pi Meson. I’ve begun a trio of mine own: The Dance at Ruin’s Edge.

Thanks to a wintry indisposition, I could not participate in any of the three rehearsals we slated for January. But this composer is so very fortunate in his colleagues, that the rehearsals went forward anyway. Now, to mend so that I can rehearse on 6 & 7 Feb.

Christopher Gordon Forbes · Pi Meson - 1 - 20 - 26

Yep: Nope Is Done

 It’s not what I would say to a friend who needs a leg up, but . . . surely, some things in life happen for no reason in particular.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Even if you cannot be discreet, at least use your imagination.

— Sidney Greenstreet giving Peter Lorre some advice in The Mask of Dimitrios

Did I plan that the first piece completed in 2026 would be the Opus 206? I neither confirm nor deny this. Earlier I noted that Stravinsky, Miles and Herrmann all skirted the Cape of Good Nope. To these let Zappa’s “Black Napkins” be added. It was one of those pieces which, once I got the lay of the musical landscape, seemed pretty much to write itself, so my Muse at on my shoulder. If I had been tempted to wonder, “Am I perhaps written out?” YouTube proceeded with the demos of the Opp. 205 & 200, which are strong contraindicators. I’m still recovering from whatever nasty bug this might be. I am hopeful of having steam enough tomorrow to proceed with the Janky Juke Joint.

Opus 206 May Just Be Done

 Remembering the guy on Winter Street who, whenever it was raining would hawk “FI’-DOLLAR UMBRELLAS!”

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Why, you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, and that’s not saying much for you.

Capt. Geoffrey T. Spaulding (Groucho Marx)

I appear to have made my way to the final double-bar of Cape of Good Nope. Letting it rest overnight. Will evaluate tomorrow.

More Nope and Chris' Pillars

 Midnight in the Snow Globe of Good & Evil

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

... I felt a hesitation about plunging into this muddy tide of human activity and pastime. It suited me better, for the present, to linger on the brink, or hover in the air above it. So I spent the first day, and the greater part of the second, in the laziest manner possible, in a rocking chair, inhaling the fragrance of a series of cigars, with my legs and slippered feet horizontally disposed, and in my hand a novel purchased of a railroad bibliopolist.

— Hawthorne, The Blithedale Romance

Progress is good on Cape of Good Nope, nearly at the three-minute mark. Stravinsky and Miles are both in the musical DNA of the intro, particularly, but I've also re-immersed myself in the first season of Twilight Zone, so Bernard Herrmann is certainly in the wings, too. I know where to take the piece from here, but I think I shall chip away at the Janky Juke Joint, now. Here, meanwhile, is the MIDI demo of Chris’ superb piece.

First Fresh Ink of 2026

 The guy with rosary beads dangling from the rear-view mirror didn't feel he was obliged to stop for the pedestrian in the crosswalk.
(Just reporting the fact.)
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call'd riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve ....
— Walt Whitman, “Song of the Open Road”

In some ways, I began thinking of our April concert in King’s Chapel last year, as I invited divers friends to compose music for it. Chris Forbes wrote his exquisite Pillars of Creation in impressively short order. Frank Warren’s Quartet № 3, Op. 119 looks to be done soon. There is still ample time for both Dennis Bathory-Kitsz and myself to compose our respective pieces. I’ve probably more or less planned on having the third of the Opus 178 flute duets, Janky Juke Joint, ready for Peter & Carol to play in April, but it seems I also want to write a new quartet. While no actual musical theft is involved, Frank’s piece gave me an idea which I have been mulling pretty much since I reviewed his score on New Year’s Day. An introduction to the piece came to me either in a genuine dream, or as my brain was in pre-sleep twilight last night. So the hunt for Cape of Good Nope, Opus 206 is on.

photo by Maria Bablyak:

The Henning Ensemble in 2025 & Moving Forward, and Bliss

 What the man said while on his cell phone was, "A car just tried to run me over." What the man did while concentrating on his cell phone was, just step off the curb without regard for his personal safety. Too dumb to live? You make the call....

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.

— Fyodor Dostoevsky

apart from my own pieces (among those listed here) in 2025 the Karl Henning Ensemble, now 32 performances strong, presented premières of Alan Westby’s Quiet Girl, Pam Marshall’s Carvoeiro Clifftop Walk, Robert Gross’ Four’s the Charm and Kevin Scott’s Min’khah: In Remembrance Shoshanna C. Winson. My auld friend, Christopher Gordon Forbes has already composed a beautiful piece for us for this season: Pillars of Creation. And another friend, here in Boston, Frank Warren, has composed his Quartet № 3, Op. 119 for us, a thoroughly charming piece. Yet another friend, Dennis Bathory-Kitsz is writing a piece for us, and both Alan Westby and Pam Marshall are working on new pieces for us.

Another big piece of 2025 news viz. the Ensemble, of course, was the welcoming of  two superb colleagues: clarinetist Todd Brunel and bassoonist Greta Rosen into the band.

Because I composed it on New Year’s Day (ten years ago today, in fact) I always recall Things Like Bliss on this day. Originally, it was one of those “well, it seemed practical instrumentation at the time” scorings: clarinet, two guitars and double-bass. “Hold my beer,” said the Universe.