27 October 2018


How could you even hope that your music might please someone else, if you did not write it to please yourself?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Monday (whew, where hath the week gone?) I had a productive, superb rehearsal of The Mystic Trumpeter with Sudie Marcuse.  Which is not to say that I will not benefit from more practice on my own (it all falls under the fingers quite readily, though).  Afterwards, at the Triad rehearsal, the Veloso went very well, and I have specific tasks to address for our rehearsal-cum-retreat Saturday (i.e., tomorrow).  And It Might Happen Today is making fair progress;  its (my) characteristic rhythmic challenges still invite tighter engagement, but with the concert four weeks away yet, the composer is at (alert) ease.  My chief complaint was that my voice is not yet restored to full musical reliability.  Soon, I am sure.

This stage of the recovery is less a matter of the inconvenient symptoms, and more simply the ongoing requirement for rest.  Where I feel that most, is in the need to prepare for the Christmas concert.  This week, I have been either absolutely useless for creative work in the evening, or capable of only a short shift.  The necessity, then, will be simplicity, both in my preparation, and of the music itself, for the sake of my choir.  Well, these are the times as are given me, and it is useless either to complain of the week’s schedule, or to pretend that I am Superman.

I made a slight alteration in the text of the Pavan, the second of the Sauna Songs.  I have been thinking a bit, too, of the cinematography.  Oh, and of the music.

No comments: