15 June 2021

Pulmonary Progress


Too early for twirly?
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

I think it doesn’t matter to him anyway. He’s just satisfied to wander around and forget things.

— Jack Kerouac. The Dharma Bums

There have been four phases of my work on the third movement of Karl’s Big (But Happily Incomplete) Map of The Body:

Phase 1: In which I earnestly intended to start writing it. This phase began pretty much on the point when I wrapped up The Heart, at which point I thought I was dubbing Movement 3 The Noggin, and I already knew the initial anacrustic gesture with which to set it in motion. This phase lasted months. I knew it would not last forever, but for a while that was all I knew for a certainty.

Phase 2: In which I at last set up the Sibelius file, plugged in the snare drum anacrusis, and learnt that (at first, anyway, the movement would be in a brisk 5/4.  This phase lasted perhaps 3-4 days.

Phase 3: In which I built out the percussion intro to the movement. This phase lasted two days, by the end of which the movement did not quite run 40 seconds.

Phase 2: In which I finally find that I have well primed the pump, and work began in enthusiastic and positively-reinforced earnest.

Per my musing here (on April Fool’s Day),  I am aiming for six minutes for The Lungs. With today’s work done, the movement is just shy of half-complete.

11 June 2021

Trending back towards normal

L’enfer, c’est les autres (Hell is other people)
— Jean-Paul Sartre, Huis clos (No Exit)
’Cuz there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
— America “A Horse With No Name”

Last night, my church choir had their (our) first rehearsal since March of last year. Just want to report how great that feels.

Separately, here is the Jacksonville University Choral Union’s February 2021 performance of the Op. 170 № 1

06 June 2021

Centimetering Along


It isn’t talking to yourself,
if you address your parakeet, right?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Nobody knows whether we were catalysts or invented something, or just the froth riding on a wave of its own. We were all three, I suppose.

— Allen Ginsberg

There is now 35" of the third movement.  Progress too inconsiderable to bother reporting? Maybe. Fact is that between the oppressive heat, and my ‘recovering’ from Friday’s PT, I am happy that the piece is advancing, even if it only outpaces the glacier.

04 June 2021

Erm, at Last


I think I could never grill a gorilla.
But, a few questions, I might ask politely.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.

— T.S. Eliot

As I finished The Heart at the end of March, I have been “meaning to start” work on the third movement for months. Friday is PT day, so I perforce spent the afternoon resting. Upon re-verticalizing, I have managed at last to set up the Sibelius file for The Lungs (I shan’t say that I got started on the composing, although I have indeed input what in my mind was always the opening gesture of the movement.) I only discovered today that the movement begins in 5/4. Now shall I resume taking the remains of the day easy: Proper work tomorrow, and the determination to have the movement—and therefore the Symphony—finished by July.

03 June 2021

Today’s Modest Work


Wreckage & unbeknownstage.
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

If they give you ruled paper, write the other way.

— Juan Ramón Jiménez

This afternoon I finished my arrangement of “O Waly Waly” for the HTUMC choir for use this month (It will also serve, warmed up, for All Saint’s Day.

This evening I rather amused myself. I learnt today of a call for orchestral scores. As the call said they would consider pieces for string orchestra as well, I felt that I wanted to submit the string choir version of Misapprehension. Why not, right?  The call specifies that the piece should be 6 - 12 minutes in length.  The mp3 of Misapprehension runs 5:58.  Not wanting to submit the piece such that it was just possible they'd disqualify a piece whose MIDI realization falls just shy of 6' (which would be stupid. Because any actual performance would “breathe” and run longer (but when you may not be counting on a colleague’s consideration, and one can rely on the lack of imagination in bureaucrats)— I inserted three mm. in the middle, so that the new running time of the mp3 is 6:06.  The insertion is not merely unobtrusive, it is positively organic.

31 May 2021

A little sheepish

End the beguine!
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

The sparrow hops along the veranda, with wet feet.

— Shiki

On April the 23rd, as I neglected to note here, I made a start on Till Love create a place, the Op. 169 № 7 piece for Michael Joseph. I then neglected it until Saturday.  I have finished it today.

In parakeet news, Richie likes Paul McCartney's “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey,” partly because the telephone ring-tone is a kind of trilling sound, partly because another sound effect is a bird.

Another piece I have neglected is the third movement of the Second Symphony. My first title for it was A Piece of My Mind, but dissatisfaction with this did not take long to emerge. I then softened this to The Noggin, removing the title from the audience’s face (as we might say) At first I thought I did not mind the neural overlap with Movement 1, The Nerves. However, when my friend and fellow clarintetist Bruce Gelin remarked on the systemic redundancy, I saw light, and knew I should change it.  Now going with what I belatedly realize was the obvious choice for a band piece, The Lungs.

First, though (and quickly) as our church choir will present anthems at last for two services in June, I must chop out an easy arrangement of “O Waly Waly.”

I am very excited that I have been commissioned to write a piece for a Jack Kerouac festival in October, on the eve (as it were) of his centenary, so I have been combing for a text, or assembling one, really. My instrumentation will be pf/fl/cl/vc & soprano.

04 April 2021

A Kind of Resurrection

Why mimic a cynic?
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Found them? In Mercia?! The coconut’s tropical!

“Monty Python and the Holy Grail”

In an exchange with a clarinetist friend last week, I came to remember a piece I had long forgotten about: Square Dance, Op. 72 for clarinet quartet (three soprano and one bass) which I had originally composed for a group at Cornell, the Ezra Quartet (after, IIRC, Ezra Cornell.  I composed the Opus 72 back when I was still using Finale, and so I have no electronic file, per se, but at least I have a PDF file. I have set to rebuilding the score in Sibelius, before either resuming the organ pieces, or starting on The Noggin.

01 April 2021

Crown Laid Aside

The Silence of the Clams, the Justice of the Peas.
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Tomorrow is a busy day,
we got things to do and eggs to lay.

— Alex Kramer & Joan Whitney “Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens” (ca. 1946)

Yesterday evening I chopped out To lay aside his crown for my soul, Op. 169 № 6 for Gigi Mitchell-Velasco. I know what tunes I mean to use (abuse?) for Nos. 7 through 9. I may just get № 7 set up before setting to work on Movement 3 of the Op. 148.

In Dec 2018, which is to say, early in my recovery, as I was still pretty much just in a state of eagerness to get back to composing, I reported that Mvt 3 would be A Piece of My Mind, but I think that, in the interests of paralellism, it shall instead be headed The Noggin.

The Nerves clocks in at seven minutes, and The Heart at fourteen. Let me aim for a six-minute Noggin to wrap the Symphony up.

30 March 2021

The Tweaking of Movement 2, or, Cardio Tune-up

The cows and chickens are goin’ to the dickens.

— Frank Loesser “A Bushel and a Peck” (1950)

As reported, or at least alluded to here, my mind went back and forth as to whether I should make modifications, and the pendulum soon came to rest.

So, At [L] I inserted a new start to the fanfare. “Robin’s Ordination

At m. 423, I made an insertion before the trumpet/soprano sax duo.

M. 441ff., I modified the retransition.

M. 451ff., new material for the recap. “Recirculation

And from [O] changes both minor and significant for the ending.

I am now thoroughly pleased.  I know the opening gesture for movement 3, but first, let me finish the Op. 169 № 6 for Gigi.

26 March 2021

Movement 2 Done (?)

I sometimes wonder if we need fortune cookies with an expiry date on the fortune.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

You tore a big hole in the convertible top,
What will you tell your mom and pop?

— Zappa “You’re Probably Wondering Why I’m Here”

Yesterday, I made it to the final double-bar of The Heart. Did I perhaps rush my way thither?

In anticipating my schedule today, which included both a trip to MGH for my first dose of the vaccine, and physical therapy (which always requires a nap afterward) I may have been too eager for the taste of accomplishment.  Nearly from the moment that I first reviewed the MIDI mp3 of the movement, I have half-wondered if the pace of the ending needs tweaking.

I’m of a mind both that I ought to fashion a dynamic insert after [N] to shake up the recap, and that the ending (while I like the passage) is too much of a “question mark” (cf. Dyagilev’s comment to Stravinsky on the closing of Petrushka) for a movement with such a robust opening theme.  I do already have ideas for a new coda (to follow, not replace, the “question mark”) a third question I pose myself is whether the fanfare at [L] may need a “clarifying” extension.

I guess I find myself in the curious situation of on the one hand, substantial contentment with the piece as is, and an engaged willingness to build upon it, subtly, selectively.

And in another curious situation of my physical therapist teaching me, a right-hander, to throw with my left hand.

25 March 2021

Give and Take

 On Monday I made a start on the Op. 169 № 6, To lay aside his crown for my soul, for Gigi Mitchell-Velasco. I wrote up to a key and meter change, and having reached a kind of question mark (for the composer, not in the music) I resumed work on The Heart, yesterday. Will continue later today.

21 March 2021

Op. 169 № 5 done.

 Today I finished (or, rather, quite composed in its entirety) the fifth of the Opus 169 organ solo pieces, Be thou our guide while life shall last, for Heinrich Christensen.  I am inclined to go ahead and start #6, not much minding the break from determining how to bring The Heart to a close.

The photo must be four or five years old, when serving as an auxiliary percussionist for the Arlington Philharmonic

13 March 2021

Working Interlude (Brief—I Hope)

One fish
two fish
dork fish
shrew fish.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

“and what is the use of a book, thought Alice, without pictures or conversation?”
— Lewis Carroll

While I let the question of how to move on with The Heart rattle around the back of my brain, I shall write up the next of the Op. 169 pieces, this one for Heinrich Christensen at King’s Chapel: Be thou our guide while life shall last, based on Ein’ feste Burg.

11 March 2021

Mild Pussyfooting

Alfred Hitchcock famously advised, “Always make the audience suffer as much as possible,” but while this may work in the Cinema, in the realm of Music, the composer may wish to reconsider that tack.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Am I part of the cure, or am I part of the disease?

— Coldplay “Clocks”

The Coldplay song (2002) predates the pandemic, yet it poses a question upon which perhaps every adult on the planet might well reflect, in our day.

I have only nudged The Heart along, these past few days, amid various non-musical demands.

The Contrarian Playlist

10. Boston: “Less Than a Feeling”

9. Queen: “Slender-Hipped Girls”

8. Bachman-Turner Overdrive: “ You’ve Seen This Already”

7. Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers: “You’ve Got to Live Like a Refugee”

6. Carly Simon: “You’re So Modest”

5. Jim Croce: “Sure, Go On, Mess Around With Jim”

4. Joe Jackson: “It’s About the Same for Girls”

3. The Bee-Gees: “Buyin’ the Farm”

2. The Talking Heads: “Death During Peacetime”

1. U2: “Found It”

07 March 2021

Nigh Unto the Home Stretch

The Toblerone Rebellion
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

People explode all the time: Natural Causes!

— Agent Rogersz in Repo Man (1984)

As of this evening, The Heart runs ten minutes (all right, so the timing of the mp3 is 9:59) I am ready to let it rest overnight.

06 March 2021

State of the Heart

What’s the use, Dr Seuss?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

My heart-core went Boom-Boom-Boom!

— Peter Gabriel “Solsbury Hill”

My work yesterday and today has brought The Heart just to the nine-minute mark, so I can almost taste the end.  The unfolding episodes of the movement are:

The Mighty Pump

Distant Loved Ones

Morning Walk

Her Dancing Heart

Journey to Sacro Cuore

Neva Wedding Palace


Zhenya and the Icon

Robin’s Ordination


The movement looks to keep true to the 12-minute plan; we shall see.

04 March 2021

Ya Gotta Have Heart

 With today’s work, the movement runs to five and three-quarters minutes.


03 March 2021

About the Opus 88

  I had known New England Conservatory Wind Ensemble director Charles Peltz some years before, when we were both in Buffalo (where I did my doctoral work). After my years abroad (in Tallinn and St Petersburg) when I found myself living in the Boston area and I learnt that Charles was at NEC, I called, and we got together to talk. I brought with me the score for I Sang to the Sky, and Day Broke for orchestral winds and harp (which I had composed for Andrew Levin, director of the Clemson University orchestra.) The Boston Chapter of the American Composer’s Forum (I think it’s now the New England Chapter) together with the NEC Wind Ensemble had an annual call for scores for a reading. They would select the best pieces from among those submitted, and the composers would come to Jordan Hall, and the ensemble (who had all been given parts to look at ahead of time) would read through the pieces. Charles suggested to me that I submit the piece for that reading.

Some years later, my submission to this call was the trunk of a piece I had begun a many months earlier, five minutes of the start of a piece for six saxophones and four low brass. I wrote that opening paragraph of the piece in a New England April, when winter had at last released its grasp, and I simply reflected on how good it felt at last to be out in the sun. It was a chunk of music I liked a great deal, and which I had not meant to leave unfinished so long. But one of the reasons I don’t like writing music “for the shelf” is, I don’t have a performance to motivate me to finish it, and then, if there is demand for another piece which will be performed – I find that instantly more attractive. That was why Out in the Sun lay unfinished (and in the shade) so long: there were other pieces which wanted writing.

And so, when in 2005 (probably) I saw the latest annual call for scores co-sponsored by the American Composers Forum and NEC, I felt that perhaps this was the occasion to dust off Out in the Sun. I was not yet setting myself to finish it; I thought I would just submit that (self-contained) opening of the piece, which was in essence already composed. All that needed doing at the time was, I had to modify the scoring to suit the call: six saxophones were too many. I reacquainted myself with this old sketch, and found that I could recast some of the writing, so that I could substitute clarinets for two of the saxophones, which would bring my score into compliance with the specs of the call.

So: yet again (I am pleased to say) my piece was among those selected; and this time the piece made such an impression on Charles, that he spoke to me about a performance. The piece was unfinished as it was, but I could readily complete it. That trunk of the piece was about five minutes long, and I was planning on about a 15-minute piece.  Charles encouraged me to finish it, and then gave the complete Op.88 its première performance.  Indeed, he thought (and thinks still) so highly of the piece, that he spread the word among his conducting colleagues.

Brief Interlude

Sometimes you take the hiatus, sometimes the hiatus takes you.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

We are our own slaves, not of the British. This should be engraved on our minds. The whites cannot remain if we do not want them. If the idea is to drive them out with firearms, let every Indian consider what precious little profit Europe has found in these.

— Mahatma Gandhi

Work on The Heart was briefly interrupted by the mechanical work of re-building the score for my Op. 42, a two-part choral setting of Ps. 34 which I wrote for use at First Congo in Woburn 22 years ago. That was back when I was still using Finale ... so that by now, I had no soft copy of it. But, I needed a Sibelius file to send to Lux Nova Press, as my old friend Houston Dunleavy plans to have his choir sing it. It is a great feeling, to revisit a piece you wrote 22 years before, and to find that you still own it entirely. Houston and I were graduate composers together at the University at Buffalo (that dark, dark place) and we were participants in the generally neglected new music ensemble, The Fires of Tonawanda. In the unlikely and sonically hostile venue of The Calumet Club, Houston sang what was then a setting of Oscar Wilde’s “The Dole of the King’s Daughter” — a piece which has since morphed into the vn/cl/pf trio, Night of the Weeping Crocodiles. The impossibility of presenting that piece to a club full of people jealously reserving their attentions for their cocktails, nachos and Molson Golden ale is actually one of the more pleasant stories I could tell you about our Buffalo experience

01 March 2021

Still working

 Close to 5 minutes done on The Heart.

28 February 2021

Berlioz Interlude

 Without (I think) beating a dead horse, I have made no secret in this blog of my general dissatisfaction with the fact that CRB (Boston’s primary classical music radio station) plays a ‘sub-library’ of (say) 200 musical items with appalling repetitive frequency. (It isn’t as if the literature is not much, much richer, and ought to be sensibly curated)

Well, earlier today they played Berlioz’s Le Carnaval romain (mind you, I still enjoy this, and notably better than both Rob Roy and Le Corsaire, which receive disproportionate programming love—YMMV)

Thought I, “This is nice, and of course, Berlioz is good and safe for you. Still, too bad you never play a substantial B. piece”

No sooner had my thought finished forming itself as a sentence, than I made mental allowance for the Symphonie fantastique. And lo! now, at 10 PM, what should they play, but the Op. 14.

And, be fair. How should I complain?

The Erroneous Cinema List

 Landmines at the Box Office:

  1. One Flaw Over the Cuckoo's Nest
  2. Mistake Pizza
  3. Ferris Bueller's Data Off
  4. Rosemary’s Boo-boo
  5. The Goof, the Bad and the Ugly
  6. Jane Err
  7. Into the Whoops
  8. Starship Bloopers
  9. Flub, Actually
  10. Wrong Day’s Journey Into Night
  11. The 39 Missteps
  12. The Legend of Sleepy Bollix
  13. Snafu Private Ryan
  14. Schindler’s Slips
  15. The Lion, the Glitch and the Wardrobe
  16. A Quantum of Solecism
  17. RoboFlop
  18. The Grapes of Gaffe
  19. La Cage au Fault

Separately, I reached the four-minute mark in The Heart today, and I am mighty pleased.

27 February 2021

Still Hearty

Razzy Dazzy Spasm Band
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Trust in God, but row to shore.
— Russian Proverb

Continued composing The Heart today, a new section titled “Her Dancing Heart.” Work goes quite smoothly ... We’ve broken three and a half minutes, now,

I stole the photo

26 February 2021

Day of Rest

 At physical therapy today, I told my therapist that I have gotten back to doing quite a bit of composing.  As he took his reading of my musculature, he said, “Your brain likes composing, everything feels great.” “I take that as a medical imperative to keep at it, then.”

As we worked, we finished listening to Uncle Meat (1968)

I told my occupational therapist yesterday that when I started returning to composing (and using the computer) At first I found it very frustrating, at times when I need to depress the Control or Shift key with my left hand while doing something else with my right—frustrating, because I would have to work very hard to try to get my left index finger to perform even this simple operation, and even when I would bend all my attention upon it. So I was very pleased to tell my OT that this week I have observed that my left index finger has been more useful and cooperative than it had been in some time.

Said I to a neighbor who was walking up my sidewalk this morning, “Beautiful day!” “Any day we don’t have to shovel [snow] is a good day!

More Cardio

I sometimes wonder, Is there any point to asking myself rhetorical questions?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.

— Khalil Gibran “The Prophet”

Yesterday, I added a bit more than a minute’s music to Wednesday’s work on The Heart. The piece is unfolding as something of a novelty in my work: as I discover it, it feels similar to Schoenberg’s idea of “developing variation.” Just how I got there, I could not say, but it’s certainly an engaging place to be.

At 7:30PM (Florida time) on Saturday the 27th (i.e. tomorrow) the Choral Union and the University Singers of Jacksonville University will sing a program under the direction of my friend (and Triad founding member) Julian Bryson, which will include my piece, The Last Invocation. The concert will be livestreamed via YouTube.

24 February 2021

I Found My Heart (so to speak)

Anemic Iceman Cinema
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Be composed—be at ease with me—I am Walt Whitman, liberal and lusty as Nature,
Not till the sun excludes you do I exclude you,
Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you,
do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you....

— Walt Whitman “To a Common Prostitute”

While I was in sub-acute rehab (recovering from stroke) and my mind was raring to return to composition, one idea I had was for The Heart (the second movement of my Symphony № 2 (for band) I have a 30-second soundfile for The Heart from 1 May, 2020.  That is all I can really say, today, about the start of actual work, except that it was entirely unrelated to those first thoughts which turned in my inner ear, in February of 2019.  Did that fact annoy the back of my mind, and is that why I have been slow to return to work? Perhaps I did, in fact, want to return to my original idea, but was still waiting for the right notes. I wrote nine days ago about the recent listening which instilled in me new confidence in my original thoughts. I also hinted at my openness, in principle, to pitching the May 2020 material, and starting from scratch.

Well, I revisited that “errant” composition today, and I find it good.  Nevertheless, in deference to my original “plan” we shan’t have that rogue music open the movement.  I had aurally envisioned the movement opening with a strong unison, and 'I suppose I did not know until last night, just what shape that opening melody would take.  It is not at all related to my recent piece for flute and organ, Come unto me and live (which has been very graciously received by Dolores and Robert), but it seems to have come to quickly, once my mind was clear from that work. There it is: I have now (out of order) composed the opening of the second movement as I always wanted it, and made some minor tweaks to what used to be the opening (the darned interloper)—most importantly, I got out of the way of an alto flute solo, which would have had to struggle against a too-busy accompaniment.” The second movement, as I down tools for the day, runs to one minute and three-quarters, and I am excited to see just where the music may take us tomorrow.

A very kind “virtual friend” (i. e. someone I have as yet only “met” online, but with whom I expect I should be great friends if/when geographic distance might be overcome) Dan Cazazza, as a very kind gift to spur me on to recovery, wrote for me a cracking and lively Clarinet Sonata, which piece is yet another reason why I am keen to be able to return to the clarinet.

23 February 2021

Oh, and another thing (Star Trek Edition)

James and the Giant Leach
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

you've got a collapse of confidence in the currency—people are gonna panic—there's gonna be gold riots, atonal music, political chaos, mass suicide!...

— Peter Falk as Vince Ricardo in The In-Laws

On the theme of inconsistencies/contradictions where no man has gone before, In the first Star Trek pilot (how wonderful that they were afforded the chance of a second) “The Cage” (and of course in the episode they creatively cobbled therefrom, “The Menagerie”) Captain Pike is captured by the inhabitants of Talos IV, humanoids with incredibly powerful mental capabilities who can thoroughly deceive the human sense of sight (especially) and who communicate with their charge by direct mental transference. Indeed, they can probe Pike's inmost mental recesses. They have lured Pike there to serve as the mate of Vina, a voluptuously beautiful (as Pike beholds her) earth woman who is the sole crash survivor of the survey ship Columbia. At the end, in order to convince Pike that Vina’s desire to remain on Talos is sincere, the Talosians show her to Pike as she really is.  The Talosians had pulled her out of the wreckage of the Columbia and “put her back together” — everything works, Vina explains to Pike — but they had never seen a human, and had no model to guide their reconstruction.

So these creatures with such extraordinary mental powers (they selected (through the vast distance of space) Pike because, Vina told us, he looks just like her ideal man.  Why, then, the Talosians could not have had their visual model of what humans (in general) and Vina (in pointed particular) look like (from the mind of Vina) is, I submit, one of the great gaffes in Star Trek scriptdom.

Just finished Come Unto Me and Live, Opus 169 № 4 for flute and organ, for Dolores and Robert Jan August

22 February 2021

Work and all

Excavations, Incarnations and Vexatious Vaccinations
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

When a good day turns around, you must whip it
You will never live it down, unless you whip it.

— Devo

Hot off the virtual press: Review: Danish String Quartet serves up Nordic treats along with Mozart.

I got the ear of a pianist friend today, and I have reminded him of my Visions fugitives de nouveau, Op.131.

I made a fair start today on the Op. 169 № 4, Come unto me and live, but then, there intruded the latest Sibelius licensing rannygazoo, so I have had to give the day up.  Spent more time puttering with playlists so that it is practical to listen to more of my library on Amazon Music. I have now at last unlocked Bart van Oort’s Mozart sonatas.

This week I finished my third viewing of the three seasons of the original Star Trek. It is not surprising, given that several writers were engaged to write scripts, and in spite of the oversight of Gene Roddenberry and DC Fontana, to find what may arguably be inconsistencies or contradictions.  And there may well be inc. and cont. for other reasons.  In “Requiem for Methusaleh,” Kirk falls like a ton of [insert gratuitous and quite possibly invented space locale adjective here] bricks for a “woman” whom he inevitably discovers to be an android. He begs her to go with him in spite of A. the question of just where “they” would go together, and B. the fact that she is Flint’s long-term companion, But that isn’t the contradiction that really bothers me, which is something which compares with another episode:  McCoy is sympathetic (of course) with Kirk in his inconsolable loss.

Compare this with McCoy in “All Our Yesterdays” (one of the best of Season 3, I think) Because Bones and Spock are transferred for a while to an epoch predating the Vulcans’ saving embrace of logic, it is Spock who is deeply smitten, by an exiled woman for whom escape is impossible.  Of course, I get that there is something of an edge in the friendship between Bones and Spock.  But far from expressing any sympathy, McCoy needles Spock.

So, one may be tempted to excuse this on McCoy’s part because (well) he is human.  But I think that in fact it reflects horribly on McCoy — who has twitted Spock a hundred times for being an unfeeling machine. Well, if he is such the emotionally superior Earth man, this would have been the perfect occasion for it.

21 February 2021

The Joy of the Recently Cleared Desk

Moloch's Maalox (Iconic colonic)
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Smell Your harmonica: Go on, smell it, son!
— Johnny “Guitar” Watson, in Frank Zappa’s “In France”

Two years ago today, I reported my first post-stroke composing activity, work on the toy piano piece, Penny Candy. With the completion (announced yesterday) of both the Op.169 № 3 and the Op. 171, I thought I would start work on the Op.169 № 4, but I learnt that I must somehow have deleted the Sibelius file of the Op.169 № 1, so actually I took some time to rebuild it last night.

18 February 2021

Two in the Bag

Unnecessary earliness.
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Tallinn is a city big enough, that if you’re trying to find somebody, you can’t; and a town small enough, that if you’re trying to avoid somebody, you can’t either.
— Estonian Aphorism

I went from Mildly annoyed at myself for neglecting to work on a pieceI Dreamt of Reconciliation and Harmony, Op. 171) which I like very much to The piece is done in the space of three days.  The piece is a duet for flute and alto saxophone, dedicated to Paul Gardner and Greg Weber, and is six minutes or so in duration.

As the k a rl h e nn i ng Ensemble are thinking of re-entering public performance (when possible) in outdoor settings I shall add horn and violin, to make Op.171a an outdoorsy quartet.

Also finished today: the Op.169 № 3, Love is come again like wheat that springeth green, organ solo, dedicated to Carson Cooman, and running three minutes and a half.

17 February 2021

Dreaming On

Jesu, Toy of Man’s Conspiring.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I replied—"This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its sibyllic splendor is beaming
With hope and in beauty to-night:
See, it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright:
We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night

— Edgar Allan Poe “Ulalume”

Another review which I don’t believe I’ve posted here—Review: Emory Streams All-Star Trio concert, reduced to Duo for on-demand viewing.

I began work on the new duet for flute and alto saxophone, I dreamt of reconciliation and harmony, Op. 171 on 11 Dec. I worked on it next (a little) on 3 Jan. Yesterday (at last!) I resumed [or began] proper work and brought the piece just past the three-minute mark. I’ve worked more today, and the piece is ten seconds shy of four minutes now. I’m aiming for a five-minute piece, may or may not do a little more work on it this evening.  Will try to have it “in the can” Friday, so that the work is done before I need my post-therapy nap.  I reached a listening milestone today, having at last listened to the whole of the Dennis Russell Davies/Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra box of the complete Haydn symphonies, absolutely all of which are masterful, and many of them are brilliant.
I don't believe I have yet posted Carson Cooman’s realization of the Opus 169 № 1, Where bright angel feet have trod.

16 February 2021

Back at Last to the Opus 169

Grand Theft Typo
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavotte
— Carly Simon, “You’re So Vain”

You know, I think Carly Simon really meant one eye on the mirror ....

I see that I last mentioned the Op. 169 last summer. At first I thought I would write four pieces, but happily I have more friends/colleagues to thank, so we are now looking at 9 pieces. Op. 169 № 1, Where bright angel feet have trod I wrote for Barbara Otto, my collaborator here at Holy Trinity United Methodist Church. Op. 169 № 2, While the dew is still on the roses is for my friend David Bohn in Wisconsin. I prepped the Sibelius file for Op. 169 № 3, Love is come again like wheat that springeth green (for my friend Carson Cooman) back in November, but I was a while deciding just how I wanted to set the piece in motion. The only musical decision (apart from the source hymn (a French carol) I baked into the piece then was a Gavotte-like start (on beat 2 alla breve)

I have at last begun composition in earnest, and tomorrow is wide open, too.

Yes, I blogged yesterday about The Heart, but I want to get Love is come again (and the flute/alto sax duet) wrapped up first, i.e. complete two smaller-scale pieces before rolling up the sleeves for a 12-minute symphonic movement.

Amon other things for which I have David Bohn to thank, is this recording of Remembering Jacquie Levy, which I submitted for his clavietta call, “20 Seconds of 2020.” Thanks, David! If, as I did not, you don’t know what a clavietta is: watch the video.

15 February 2021

Whither Now the Heart?

Squid Pro Quo.
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

We inhabitants of the north feel differently. Life’s experiences touch us either not at all or sink deep into our souls. With us, it is either mad boisterousness or or bitter tears. Even love, that wondrous emotion which brightens the entire universe [Not Vulcan, corrects Mr Spock] is always bound up in us with a certain sadness. There is no doubt that our melancholy Russian songs are children from the north that we have, perhaps, taken over from the east. The songs of the orientals are just as melancholy, even in carefree Andalusia.
— Mikhail Glinka

A review I neglected to share here: Spektral Quartet plays into the juxtapositions with Experiments in Living.

Lieutenant Columbo appeared in my dream last night.  “Well, this is all interesting, Mr Henning, but since this is a dream of yours, it’s not going to be of much use in my case, I’m afraid. Thanks all the same.”  It did not occur to me until I had awakened, that he might perhaps have considered me a suspect.

In June of 2018, I finished the first movement, The Nerves of a Symphony for Band.  In November, I would suffer a severe stroke.  As I was in rehab, and mentally wishing to return to composing, I had a wisp of an idea for the second movement, The Heart.

In the spring of 2020, for a call for scores, I prepared a different scoring of The Nerves (no, my submission went nowhere—but then, the original scoring is specific to a local ensemble who have not acknowledged the piece in any way. so we might well say it has gone nowhere. period.)

That bootless arrangement done, I began composing The Heart, and yet in a way not at all reflecting my February 2019 thoughts. I have not yet resumed work, but am fixin’ to. My listening of late has included Rued Langgaard’s Sfærernes Musik, Hovhaness’ Symphony № 20, Op.223 « Three Journeys to a Holy Mountain » and Weinberg’s Symphony № 20, Op. 150. These have inspired me to return to The Heart, and indeed to take up properly my original musical idea.

As yet unknown is whether I keep my May 2020 material or jettison it.

14 February 2021

The Odd Reflection

Be fearless. But be good.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I had a serious talk with Strauss in Berlin and tried to show him the blind alley he had got into [with Salome] Unfortunately, he could not quite follow what I meant. He’s a charming fellow, and I’m touched by his attitude toward me. And yet I can mean nothing to him—for whereas I see over his head, he sees only up to my knees.

— Gustav Mahler, in a letter to his Alma (Dresden, 19 Dec 1901)

My first reflection on reading this, was a mild revulsion at what might appear Mahler’s self-absorbed hauteur.

Then I thought of a later encounter of Strauss’s:

Strauss: Why do you compose atonal music? You have talent.

Hindemith: You compose your music, Herr Professor Doktor, and I’ll compose mine.

One of the things I miss at present, but which I am working to restore, is being able to hold and read a book and turn its pages normally.

Latest review: Chilean Music for viola and piano.

I’m suffering (mildly) doubts of whether I may be inconsistent.  I do not, as a rule, care much for the Shostakovich Chamber Symphonies (which I almost cast in quotes, but I forbear for reasons presently to emerge) which are simply arrangements for string choir/orchestra of a few of the quartets. Why? Is it because (although I still need to get to know many of the quartets better still) I really enjoy and admire the quartets as quartets? Yet, while I clearly prefer the original sextet version of Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht, I love the “big band” string orchestra version very well.

The reason for this ultimately inconsiderable micro-episode of self-doubt is Weinberg, I have even more work cut out in getting to know his quartets than Shostakovich’s ( at present, I have done little more than complete my initial survey of all the seventeen) and possibly because they are for me at present an additional means of getting to know the quartets better, possibly (as well) because of the excellence of Kremerata Baltica, I find the Weinberg Chamber Symphonies immediately and unqualifiedly enjoyable. Maybe the lesson for me is: just give the Shostakovich Chamber Symphonies a chance.

Ive also been listening to the Holmboe Chamber Symphonies, which are another thing entirely.

02 February 2021

Henningmusick Performances in the Offing

The lucky contestant, the winner of our discontent!
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

The very active composer is always a thief—he makes use of every single thing he can put his hands on.
— Pierre Boulez

I do not as yet know any dates.  Both Verb-Blur and The Last Invocation will receive their live-performance première down in Jacksonville, Florida in February or April.  The University of Indiana has purchased a performance set of Out in the Sun. And a graduate conducting student at the University of Michigan informs me that she is doing me the fine service of leading what will be the third performance of Out in the Sun in Ann Arbor.

04 January 2021

Keeping at It


The bartender calls this cocktail, the Pain in the Ass.
Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

A painting is not a picture of an experience, it is an experience.
— Mark Rothko

And, Exhibit B: Considering My Bliss Options, Op. 137 № 2b

Per my challenge to myself yesterday, it pleases me to report that I have worked more on I dreamt of reconciliation and harmony; I've now reached the 90-second mark, and I'm off for the night.

03 January 2021

Timbrally Heterogeneous Duo

 Late in October, flutist Paul Gardner and alto saxophonist Greg Weber sent recordings they made of two arrangements of mine: Zen on the WingOp. 114 № 2a (here) and Considering My Bliss OptionsOp. 137 № 2b

On 11 Dec as a thank-you, I began a new duo especially for them, I dreamt of reconciliation and harmony (which in fact, I recently had) my Op. 171. Almost a month later, I resumed work on it today, with an eye to restoring a habit of doing at least a little composing each day.