Opus 213 Done

 When we drive through Middleton, I half-wonder if we've somehow missed either Beginnington or Endington.
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

True ignorance is not the absence of knowledge, but the refusal to acquire it.
— Karl Popper

Smooth is not how the course of the Opus 213 ran. Just reporting, not complaining.  Illusions I Can Live With began life at a time when I was expecting that we should have only Carol & Peter for the 1 December King’s Chapel concert. As of September the 7th, the score ran to 40 measures and less than two minutes of music. At that point, the piece waited (first) upon organizational work for the Library concert, and then sat tight while I composed the 16 little pieces comprising the Opp. 211 & 214. None of these considerations was any absolute impediment to work on Illusions, but the subtextual fact was that although I had set down notes which I liked, I had not yet found a sense of direction for the piece. In fact, although not in the back of my mind, but indeed in the shade of my mind’s forefront, the question, whether I ought to just start afresh was long a low-impact nag.

But then, to my delight, Dan Zupan is ready to be restored to the Active roster, and the obvious musical solution was to make the piece a trio. To the point of “although I had set down notes which I liked,” above, every single note in the 7 September score remained untouched whille I gleefully added the bass clarinet. And poof! the Opus 213 is complete.

Opus 214 Done

 This might be a commuter train. Or, it might be an e-reader showroom.
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Mortimer lighted the candles. They showed the the visitor to be an ill-looking visitor with a squinting leer, who, as he spoke, fumbled at an old sodden fur cap, formless and mangey, that looked like a furry animal, dog or cat, puppy or kitten, drowned and decaying.
— Dickens, Our Mutual Friend

The project was even more a caprice than the Opus 211 Simple Preludes, and unlike the latter I intended a set of ten from the outset. Did I need a goal? Dunno, but I set one. the Ten Inconsequentialities for Toy Piano are dedicated to my friend and colleague Olivia Kieffer who has graciously expressed enthusiasm for the pieces.

The set consists of:

i. artifice
ii. brouhaha
iii. change
iv. detritus
v. ego
vi. fandom
vii. glitz
viii. hindsight
ix. immateriality
x. jurisprudence

Further Inconsequentialities

 To paraphrase Twain: “I only want to interest the listener, he can go elsewhere for profit & instruction.”
— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

You can’t calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass.
— Buddha

Since my last report, I have composed four more Inconsequentialities. Three to go, Progress has not strictly been one daily, but then, I was unconcerned with progress, per se, so we consider the mission intact. Two more rehearsals before the Henning Ensemble program at the Library.

Chuffing Along

 Yes, I think I can tell a green field from a cold steel rail.

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Now don’t crowd me lady or I’ll fill up your shoe, I am a sweet bourbon daddy and tonight I am blue.

— Bob Dylan

I noted here that I might set the text No One Has Time for Anything But Life for unaccompanied choir and so I did, and thus was born the Opus 215. Triad alumnus Julian Bryson has responded positively. And another fellow composer writes: Looking at the score, what a delightful economy of means to make your musical and spiritual point.

Excellent Henning Ensemble rehearsal yesterday, another tomorrow.

Five Years Ago Today

 Euphoria in Peoria?

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

The trick is, not to get killed. That’s really the key to the benefit program.

— Peter Falk in The In-Laws

Remembering with great pleasure the commemorative launch of the Kerouac Centenary

Accumulating Inconsequentialities

 Seen on Twitter:
My husband purchased a world map and then gave me a dart and said, “Throw this and wherever it lands—that’s where I’m taking you when this pandemic ends.”
Turns out, we’re spending two weeks behind the fridge.
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

If you need drugs to be a good writer, you are not a good writer.
— Rod Serling

I’ve now composed the three last (id est, numbers 8-10) of the Op. 214 Inconsequentialities for toy piano. My loose plan is one day. We shall see.

Jayaprakash Satyamurthy (author of the tender text I set for When, has a new chapbook coming out soon, No One Has Time for Anything But Life. Some of my recreational listening (suggested by my friend Luke Ottevanger) has been Medieval and Renaissance choral music. It has been a while since I’ve composed for choir (no longer having one I work with) but having that sound in my ear, and knowing former Triad colleagues who have choirs they work with, the back of my musical mind has been angling towards setting JP’s title. Today we had an excellent Henning Ensemble rehearsal in which we heavily workshopped the Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia. So I’ve just begun tinkering with this notion.

@karl-henning-1

First (Last) Inconsequentiality

 Seen on Threads:
Me, to my 8yo: “Did you eat that cookie after I clearly said not to??”
8yo: “Look, I am focused on the future...”
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

I’m goin’ back to New York City, I do believe I’ve had enough.
— Bob Dylan

Day before yesterday, I chopped out the first of the projected ten Inconsequentialities.

@karl-henning-1