The Catching of Breath and Reflection on a New Life

 17 Aug 2016: So, a Famous Ensemble I follow on Twitter tweets, “What are your five essential [name of ensemble] recordings?” I’m not posting this to object to the apparent immodesty of the question. I mean: it was Twitter, fer gosh sake. Nor am I posting to object to the shrewd invitation to your fandom, letting them generate some of your publicity. Just posting with the observation that I don’t believe I have five recordings of theirs. And the reflection that I’m not sure I consider any of them essential. I guess I’m just a bad, no-good, undeserving ingrate of a fan.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

You poor old sod, you see it’s only me.

— Ian Anderson, “Aqualung”

Having at last finished the additive operation to the scores of Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used to Be, Down Along the Canal to Minerva Road, Jazz for Nostalgic Squirrels, Dark Side of the Sun and the Op. 197 Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia, I am conscious of an achievement seemingly outsized to the mundane nature of the work. And yet, there was creative work involved in there, too, so let me not denigrate it as mere housekeeping. So let me acknowledge the accomplishment as being as grand as it feels. The What next? is clear enough: the need to set dates both for the two concerts, and for more rehearsals (at present, the only rehearsal in the books is this Wednesday. Today, as I listed all the above-mentioned pieces, it is borne in upon me how in fact, it is a bigger program than it needs to be. We’ll strike Snootful of Hooch and revive it at a later date. Having so substantial a portfolio of pieces for the Ensemble is obviously a serious musical asset.

So: rehearsal with five of the now six members on May the 7^th. Once I finish exulting in the present victory lap, my musical mind is ready to take a few days off. Perhaps I’m just a father crowing over newborn twins, but I’m full of a feeling that Dark Side and the Op. 197 Fantasia are the best music I’ve written thus far. I am just so pleased with and so damned proud of them. This experience somehow sets me to remembering when I was in rehab after my stroke and my musical mind was champing at the bit to be about creative work again. At the time of the stroke neither White Nights nor the Symphony for Band was finished. I was full of a sense both of gratitude that my new life permitted me to complete those two projects and of renewed purpose: the simple fact that if I don’t write my music, there ain’t nobody else will. I was overjoyed to bring both the ballet and the Symphony to completion. So there is some similarity to my feelings this week. But I’m vividly aware of and rejoicing in a wonderful difference: In the spring of 2019, the Opp. 75 and 148 were (obviously) pieces, music I knew of already. Both Dark Side of the Sun and the Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasias represent a musical expression completely new to me, musical accomplishment of which I was completely unaware in the Before Time. So my pride and gratitude are deeper still. There are not merely personal but cultural reasons why it was granted to me to survive my medical “event.” And notwithstanding the challenges and uncertainty in my musical life which remain, I consider that today I simply do not yet know what pieces I may find myself able to compose in future.

Nuts and Bolts of the Op. 197a

 Well, those eggs didn’t devil themselves.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

And now, for no particular reason, this Goldie Hawn joke from
Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In

:My mother says I don’t know what good clean fun is. And she's right:
I don’t know what good it is.

In incorporating the bass clarinet and bassoon into the ​​Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia, sometimes I added material, sometimes I redistributed what was already there. The redistribution wasn’t any matter of robbing from the rich and giving to the poor, but rather of enjoying the expanded color palette. The changes fell into the following categories: In a couple of points of imitation, adding new entrances for the new instruments, at times in augmented rhythm. In a chorale or two, adding the two new voices. Adding, as noted yesterday, a bass clarinet/bassoon soli to the “trading solos” section. Most especially, though, in the spirit of adding the new colors as contrast without necessarily “bulking up” this or that passage, in places where I had essentially cannibalized the Opus 198 Second Fantasia for recorders, snipping entrances from higher voices, and swapping them into the lower. The last category: as occasionally I did with the similar expansion of Dark Side of the Sun, letting the bassoon double the double-bass, in the manner of basso continuo. Overall, the exercise has put me in mind of a compliment paid me by a parishioner at the Cathedral Church of St Paul when I served as Interim Choir Director. On Easter Sunday, we brought back two trombonists who had collaborated with us for my Evening Service in D during Lent. Since we had them assisting in the Service already, I had them double the tenors and basses for the Hallelujah Chorus, which we were singing for a Postlude, if I recall aright. “That was symphonic,” the parishioner enthused. My present point being that adding two instruments augments the whole to a greater degree than the mere number two might seem to suggest.

It's Easier Than You May Think

 What do we do your information?
What do we do your information?
What do we do your information
Ear-lye in the morning?
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

No one would believe me in a sheet.
Robt De Niro, turning down the role of Jesus in The Last Temptation of Christ.

Work on expanding the Fantasia on a Theme of Rahsaan Roland Kirk scoring
(which I succeeded in finishing yesterday) is the second time I have somehow triggered
a bug in Sibelius: I’d been working on a score, everything is comme il faut and then for some mysterious reason after a copy-&-paste operation, the file no longer plays back. I tried closing and re-opening Sibelius. Tried shutting down and re-starting the laptop. Since I work with
an old version which I bought outright and do not subscribe to the newer version, I get no Customer Support (which was always on the spotty side, really.) Anyway, I reached the
point where I believed the work to be done, though I should really have wanted playback of the
state of the score for my ear to confirm that my fingers did the work I intended.

I am fortunate in having a patient friend who has graciously permitted me to outsource the
occasional MIDI export operation and mine ears appear satisfied.

At an early-ish point in the process, I half-wondered if I might be spoiling an excellent, streamlined piece. But I soon set that nagging down to an echo of (rightly) having discarded my first attempt in the opening statement.  Once I realized that my initial notion was wrong, and the real way forward dawned upon me, the work very nearly did itself. The fact is, too, I love the “fatter” sound. I don’t believe I’ve muddied things. In a way, my gravest concern was that the clarinet solo (in m.263) which answers the flutes and which, when I first composed the piece in December, I presumed that Dan would play, well, I felt a pang that Todd was “taking that away” from Dan, which felt like shabby treatment on my part. Since it’s all pretty mad imitation, though, the easily obvious solution was adding an entrance for the bass clarinet. And I almost immediately decided that the bass clarinet and bassoon should play it in unison and thus we enjoy an entirely new color.

Maybe I’m just a father crowing over a newborn, but I’m apt to feel that Dark Side of the Sun and the Fantasia on a Theme of Rahsaan Roland Kirk are my very best work yet.

As a Matter of Fact, It's All Dark

 Trois ans de croissants

Sharknado V: The Sushi Strikes Back

Les gâteaux des châteaux

The elliptical pickle

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

The Robin cocks his head and looks at you, but you never know what he thinks.
This may be just as well.

— Will Cuppy, How to Tell Your Friends From the Apes

Firstly, Greta, Marie and Josh did a lovely job with the Opus 192 Fantasy on When Jesus Wept this morning, playing with very good sensitivity and lovely expression. It is highly gratifying to have one’s compositional work warmly appreciated by fellow musicians and fellow listeners alike.

Secondly, as I revisit the expansion of Dark Side of the Sun to a sextet, I like it.

Allowing the Music to Find Itself

I dreamt that in Paradise we all have mailboxes, but they never deliver junk mail....

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Men usually grow base by degrees. From me, in an instant, all virtue dropped bodily as a mantle.

— Edgar Allan Poe, “William Wilson.”

What I find with my weekly Physical Therapy is that in the first place it is enormously helpful (though the accumulated benefit discloses itself over the long term) and in the second, typically my brain is sufficiently taxed that not only do I have to rest through the remainder of the day, but I need to pick my energy battles the following day, as well. I wished to get more work in on the new clarinet line in Dark Side of the Sun today, but at first what I found I needed after lunch was a nap. The nap did sufficiently recharge my batteries that I felt more or less equal to applying myself to the task before needing to head out to make my way to Lowell for tonight’s Lowell Chamber Orchestra concert. I found, though, that my path to the desired result was to work smarter, not harder, and let the clarinet find its own way, keeping in mind that some space in the piece should in fact remain open. I’m leaving the question of whether my work is truly done until tomorrow. The first Henningmusick of tomorrow, though, will be another performance by the Redeemer Recorder Consort of the Opus 198 Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia. 

A Little More Darkness

 Dances With Wolves, meet Grooves in Pavement

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful.

— Titania, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Yesterday I pretty much got the bassoon part complete, always allowing for further tweaks and other modifications. I made but a start with the clarinet part. As I noted in yesterday’s post, today’s PT will put me on the bench (the simile relates to sport and not to jurisprudence) for the day. That did not stop me, however, from putting my as-yet-untaxed brain to musical work on Dark Side of the Sun this morning. Thus have I brought the clarinet part up to measure 72. I took advantage of this operation to cure truly an egregious error in my original: in one point of imitation, I failed to notice that I had assigned an impossible written low B to the Alto Flute. In our first read-through, I allowed Peter to raise it an octave. Reassigning that phrase to the clarinet, though, solves the problem of that note, and I re-wrote the Alto Flute in those measures.

See you Saturday!

Enrichment of the Dark Side

 To my own surprise, some of his notions were actually near-fetched.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

The tablet was not chalky like aspirin and not exactly capsule-slick either. It felt
strange in the hand, curiously sensitive to the touch but at the same time
giving the impression that it was synthetic, insoluble, elaborately engineered.

I watched her sit at the cluttered desk for two or three minutes, slowly rotating
the tablet between her thumb and index finger. She licked it and shrugged.

“Certainly doesn’t taste like much.”

"How long will it take to analyze the contents?”

"There’s a dolphin’s brain in my in-box but come see me in forty-eight hours.”

— Don Delillo, White Noise

As I reported yesterday, I made a good start on incorporating the clarinet and bassoon into the Op. 197 Fantasia. It was my intent to work more on that today but I really did not have the steam. I did, however, realize that I needed Todd and Greta to participate in Dark Side of the Sun as well. So I began the inclusion of clarinet and bassoon therein. Good work done. Tomorrow is PT, so I do not count on pursuing that task further until Saturday. Read all about it here, Gentle Reader.

Airy Daring

 Riskier skier
Wally at the Hallelujah Luau
The Persian Perjurer
Set sail on the Lovecraft!
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Is there anything honorable to destroy in Los Angeles?

— Toshiro Mifune in 1941

I have not always been diligent to post things in a timely manner. I am, accordingly mildly surprised to find today that more than 12 years ago, I did indeed make note of Meerenai Shim having acknowledged receipt of Airy Distillates, which I had written expressly for her. Although I posted optimistically then, we subsequently fell out (the fault on my side, I should suspect.) However, Peter H. Bloom having so brilliantly interpreted the piece on bass flute, the composer finds himself completely content with the fate of the Opus 110.

The Odd Thought

 “Guaranteed to tax your taste buds!”

(No taxation without mastication!)

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Kindness knows no defeat. Caring knows no end.

— Yogi Bhajan

I dreamt last night that I was workshopping an arrangement for full orchestra of Down Along the Canal to Minerva Road (a task which I am in no way actually contemplating) with a friend’s orchestra. Or perhaps I parenthesized over-hastily ... an adaptation for chamber orchestra? Well, not unless some more definite sign come to me from the Universe. I am in fact ruminating an arrangement for saxophone quartet for, well, the friend of a friend, whom I met Easter Sunday. It was certainly a propitious occasion. And unlike the dream, this project is eminently practical. I wrote to him today to verify scoring, so the project awaits that response.

Thoroughly separately, the few measures of bass clarinet and bassoon which I had added to the Opus 197 RRK Fantasia did not age well in my inner ear. Happily, I formed a much better and clearer idea of how to proceed. In brief, where such work in the case of the Opp. 191, 149 and 117 largely consisted in filling out textures/harmonies, those first tentative measures taught me that such an approach would not serve the Op. 197 well. I was going to let the matter rest until tomorrow (today having been rather a busy day) but I found myself ready just to get in a start. I am pleased with the new take, am downing tools for the night, and chilling while the chilling is good.

Not the “Prime Directive”

 You may wonder why a New Yorker like Billy Joel felt a need to opine about Allentown, Penna, or why a New Jersey boy like Bruce Springsteen would title an album Nebraska. You may indeed wonder these things in an offhand way and yet feel that the answer (insofar as there may be an answer) is really worth knowing.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Rivers do not drink their own water; trees do not eat their own fruit; the sun does not shine on itself and flowers do not spread their fragrance for themselves. Living for others is a rule of nature. We are all born to help each other. No matter how difficult it is...life is good when you are happy; but much better when others are happy because of you.

— Pope Francis

My sister told me a funny story just this morning. Her Girl Scout troop went on a field trip to New York, the taping of one of the game shows. One of the celebrity hosts was Wm Shatner, of whom she was at the time completely starstruck. In her naiveté, she asked him for an autograph. Shatner was a perfectly rude boor to her. And at that fresh age, my sister “gave as good as [she] got.” As a result of this mini-scene, the management asked her to leave. Which meant that the entire troop had to leave. So there was the embarrassment, the money wasted by all on the trip, and then the characteristic non-understanding from our late father. So that was the end of my sister’s starstruck days. I think all the better of her for pushing back at a prima donna. Truly, she boldly went where no Girl Scout had gone before.

Squirrels Now Completely Jazzed

 I think we want a combination of imagining the viola to be a bandoneón, and, “If we build a large wooden badger . . . .”
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Being in tune with every molecule in the universe requires a great deal of concentration.

— Re di tutto (the late, great Robin Williams.)

The bassoon and clarinet added themselves in to the Opus 117 quite readily. Those squirrels have come a long way, baby! The next (final?) task is to add a bassoon and bass clarinet to the Op. 197 Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia. I set to work a bit this afternoon, but I perceive that my process ought to be quite different in this case. Going to let it cure for a bit. Timing is good in that sense, as I am preoccupied with some housekeeping for a couple of days.

The Weeping

 These ethereal eateries

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

There were four of us: me, your big feet and you....

— Fats Waller

My friends of the Redeemer Recorder Consort did a lovely job with the plaintive Op. 162 at last night’s Good Friday service:

On to the Squirrels

From a parallel musical universe:

The Serene Beatles, “Calm Together”

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

This morning I added a bassoon to Jazz for Nostalgic Squirrels, and I rather feel as if it ought always to have been there. Today is PT, so the addition of the clarinet must wait until tomorrow.

9th Ear · Karl Henning, Jazz for Nostalgic Squirrels, Op.117

Two Down Now

Sir Neville Bartender and the Academy of St-Lemon-in-the-Peels

Conundrum the Barbarian

The Epic of Giggle Mesh

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Russell Bennett wrote a piece for symphony orchestra about Abe Lincoln at this time. When Irving Caesar heard it, he commented that he’d come to the conclusion that John Wilkes Booth didn’t kill Lincoln—Robert Russell Bennett did.

— Oscar Levant, The Memoirs of an Amnesiac

A bassoon and clarinet have now been added to Down Along the Canal to Minerva Road. One thing not reflected in the MIDI. At the sign three or so members of the group will hand off improvisations.My plan is: Dave Zox (bass), Todd Brunel (clarinet) and Peter Bloom (alto flute.) I am going to enjoy this

Groundwork for the Opus 200

 From the Department of Gawdelpus: “N.’s music is, in the deepest sense, a spiritual journey.” Dial down the unctuousness, please. More matter and less phosphorescence.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

You know, a lot of people don’t bother about their friends in the vegetable kingdom. They think, “What can I say?...”
— Zappa, “Call Any Vegetable”

I may or may not have duly reported the following in a timely fashion, so this is Old News. I met Matthew Marsit, Music Director of the Charles River Wind Ensemble on the occasion of a performance of the same in Lexington. He was (and always remains) gracious and welcoming. I mentioned a variety of scores I already had in my portfolio, such as Out in the Sun and In the Artist’s Studio, but he gently advised me that in the case of this group, he considers only pieces for the full ensemble, so that there should be musical occupation for everybody. Fair Enough. On returning home, therefore, I began work on a piece for full symphonic band, The Nerves, which I already planned for the first movement of what would become my Symphony N° 2 for Band, Karl’s Big (But Happily Incomplete) Map to the Body. Here is a blog post from that era. Matt & yours truly had a very nice refresher conversation at the latest CRWE concert. I am in some hope that he may consider programming the Opus 148. The principal concern, so to say, simply being that a 35-minute Symphony is perforce half a program. My takeaway is that in all events, I should have in my portfolio some pieces (yes, I’ll use the plural there) of shorter duration for not only Matt’s consideration, but for that of any other Band Director. That is where the Opus 200 will come in. Now (id est, at this time) of course, I am perforce happily pre-occupied with adding a bassoon and clarinet to a number of pieces for the present Henning Ensemble concerts, but a corner of my musical mind wished just to plant a stake in the sonic ground, so I have just done (what I seldom do in my advanced compositional age) some “pre-compositional” work, nothing as yet elaborate, just a bare outline with verbal cues for my musical mind. As in the past, having a sense of overall architecture can be an aid, always with the understanding that when I do set to work, I may modify or stray from the schema as the music itself may please. My present thought is a twelve-minute piece, and whether the piece says what it needs in twelve, or stretches to 15, we shall see hereafter.

Today, however, it’s more work on Down Along the Canal to Minerva Road.

Further Along the Canal

Canceled credit card?
Visa dolorosa.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Five years ago, I was a four-stone apology. Now, I am two separate gorillas.
 

— the late, great Vivian Stanshall in the persona of Mister Apollo,
a parody of body-builder Charles Atlas.
“Wrestle poodles and win!"

As reported yesterday, a clarinet and bassoon have been most satisfactorily integrated into Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used to Be. I have since been working on just that same task with Down along the Canal to Minerva Road. The work isn’t exactly slow, only it requires reflection and application. “auto-pilot” will not serve us here. Also, I had my weekly socializing at Lulu’s this afternoon, including a very nice turkey and rice soup. In large part the work is fairly intuitive, since there are many passages more or less in a “big band” vein, so that the additional voices are readily welcome. Something new which I want to try when we are all assembled, since I have very capable improvisers in the band, is the insertion of some free solos. I anticipate some success on that head. I have ample time. I’m thinking an arbitrary “soft deadline” of 24 April just for something to aim towards. There are also Jazz for Nostalgic Squirrels and the Op. 197 Fantasia into which to fold Greta and Todd, and perhaps also Dark Side of the Sun. Hey, you never know.

Separately, my friend Josh reports that the recorders had a good reading today of the Op. 198 Fantasia, which will be part of the Good Friday service in Arlington.

Sommes-Nous Devenus Sixtuor?

 Ribald gerbil

The vowels of the wolves.

Ouija squeegee?

Baroness in a burnous

—Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

If there were no sun, you would have this song
to give warmth and light and to keep you strong.

— Rahsaan Roland Kirk, “Theme for the Eulipions”

Since my stroke and my subsequent extended separation from playing an instrument, I have been alive (shall we say) to the lack of clarinet in the Henning Ensemble. Of course, recently Dan Zupan has stepped into that gap and I do not mean at all to slight so capable and bold a colleague. I am only at present referring to an old dream, as it were. For at first, years before we were fortunate enough to recruit Dan, the clarinetist I should have greatly wished to bring into the fold was Todd Brunel. And lo! what should happen but Todd’s most gratifyingly powerful affection for the Op. 197 Rahsaan Roland Kirk Fantasia has caused the realization of the old dream. Furthermore, by most peculiar but altogether felicitous coincidence, I have also succeeded in recruiting an old friend, bassoonist Greta Rosen. (Now, if only there were money to recompense them for their talents.)

For the time being, therefore, I am shelving composition of new pieces, and creating parts for Todd and Greta in pieces already in line for our two Woburn concerts. Indeed this morning, literally before dawn, I expanded the scoring of Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used to Be. On to the next ....

The Joint Opens

 Well, it’s that Eagles song again, and there will presently be an eighth woman on his mind. Takin’ it easy ....

How can they bear singing doo-wa diddy diddy dum diddy doo every day?

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

(Maury Chaykin) Nero Wolfe: “Does she lie?”

(Timothy Hutton) Archie Goodwin: “Certainly.”

Wolfe: “How the devil can you tell?”

Goodwin: “...Look, I’m only answering your question: Does she lie? She does.”

Wolfe: “Then we need the truth. Get it.”

Well begun is half done, goeth the old saw. When I was wondering what the musical matter of Janky Juke Joint might be, my inner ear immediately heard a mildly hopped-up version of “Three Blind Mice.” No, not aught like the opening of Dr. No. I still did not have much steam yesterday, so I wasn’t going to get much composing done. But sufficient juice to transcribe what I was already hearing? That, I had. And so, Gentle Reader, we have the first 15 bars of the Op. 178 № 3. I do think it a good start, and I am letting the further composition cook slowly in the background ...

Tentative Spring-Summer Henning Ensemble Program

 “Zero Garden Street” is such a Harvard Square address.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

The smoke alarm went off in the hallway upstairs, either to let us know the battery had just died or because the house was on fire. We finished our lunch in silence.
—Don Delillo, White Noise

Now that we appear to be closing in on actual dates for two concerts with the full quartet (plus, but I shall address that fascinating and delightful development hereafter) the band required guidance as to what music should be on the stands. The standing wish has always been, upon logging another concert at the blessedly welcoming venue of King’s Chapel, now that we’ve laid in the work of preparing the music, to bring it out in more performances. Thus, the program is a balance of music recently performed and stuff which is hot off the press. 

Dark Side of the Dance Floor

Alan Westby: Quiet Girl (revised version) 7:00
KH: Down Along the Canal to Minerva Road, Op. 149a 7;00
Pamela Marshall: Carvoeiro Clifftop Walk (revised version) 7:00
KH: Jazz for Nostalgic Squirrels, Op. 117a  7:00
KH: Dark Side of the Sun, Op. 193 (première) 8:30

Inyermission
KH: Snootful of Hooch, Op. 159a 8:30
KH: A Dance Floor for the Introverted, Op. 178 № 2 (première) 6:00

KH: Fantasia on a Theme by Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Op. 197 (première) 8:00
KH: Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used to Be, Op. 191 2:00

Total duration: one hour

The Un-Hip Hop Warn’t the End of It

 Methyl Ermine

Hank Aaron’s hankerin’s

Baron von Unchosen

—Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it.

— Edith Sitwell

All through the weeks that Carol and Peter were preparing Music for the Un-Hip Hop for the concert Tuesday last at King’s Chapel, they repeatedly offered me two assurances. Firstly, that it isn’t easy and secondly, that they find it fun to play. This is the sweet spot: to write music which accomplished musicians will find a fair (not extreme) challenge, and which they find sufficiently rewarding to repay the effort to learn it. That alone was (so to say) music to mine ears, but atop that they encouraged me (again—more than once, so they were in earnest) to write two more pieces so that the Hop would be the first in a set of three. (In a delightful intstance of the Universe cooperating with itself, my publisher also likes the marketability prospects of a set of three.) Practically immediately upon returning home from Tuesday’s concert I set to work on Opus 178 № 2, A Dance Floor for the Introverted. And lo! I did complete it yesterday. Furthermore, both Carol and Peter like it already, And now, while I am deferring actual work upon the piece until tomorrow, I have decided on the title of the Opus 178 № 3—Janky Juke Joint.

A couple items in addition.

I have had very nice feedback from several listeners who have listened to Tuesday’s concert either live or since it was “finalized” on YouTube. So the Henningmusick audience groweth.

My old friend Greta Rosen is game to play bassoon in the Henning Ensemble, so our lower register choir is strengthening.

And my friend the superb clarinetist Todd Brunel has taken a great fancy to the Op. 197 Fantasia, so he will come play it with us. I believe this will require the addition of a bass clarinet part for Dan so that he not be bumped from the lineup.

Hot New Music From Oz

 They can speak as breezily as they please about “the unmistakable thrill”; I know some who have mistaken the unmistakable thrill, and they’ll never be the same.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain – and most fools do.
— Benjamin Franklin

As my old friend and fellow composer, Houston Dunleavy and I caught up via texting, he shared this fine recording of a fairly recent piece. I like it.

Opus 197 Done

 I don’t know what it is, but a game titled Bricks Ball Crusher has zero appeal for me....
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I fear and dislike the music of Arnold Schoenberg... Schoenberg is the cruelest of all composers for he mingles with his music sharp daggers at white heat, with which he pares away tiny slices of his victim’s flesh
— A critic for The New York Times, not taking Pierrot Lunaire at all well (19 Jan 1913)

I was, perhaps predictably, jazzed by the supremely positive experience of Tuesday’s concert at King’s Chapel, and so yesterday I pert near sprinted to the finish of the Fantasia on a Theme by Rahsaan Roland Kirk. As befits the notion of conceptual continuity (expounded by a well-known—perhaps even notorious—20th-c. American musical figure, the Fantasia makes use of a point of imitation which first appeared in Crazy in a Bottle. Also, as to whether I honored my original concept of a piece to serve dual duty for the Redeemer Recorder, and Karl Henning Ensembles, or instead wrote distinct pieces suited to each particular outfit: Yes to both, as the Op. 197 absorbs passages of the Op. 198 in places.

We Came, We Saw, We Hopped

 Deus ex ocarina.

We are the champignons, my friend.

— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

Courtesy of my friend Joe Barron:

There’s a story about a concert in Los Angeles that included one of Copland’s more progressive pieces. Among the Hollywood notables in attendance was Groucho Marx, who told Copland he was surprised the piece sounded nothing like the scores the composer was writing for MGM.”I have a split personality,” Copland said, to which Groucho replied, “As long as you split it with Mr. Goldwyn.”

Hooch at the Hop?, the thirtieth performance by the Karl Henning Ensemble,  was a great musical success yesterday and therefore a highly gratifying experience. It is fitting that the composer note his profound gratitude both to those of his colleagues who not only performed the music so well, but have repeatedly expressed how highly they regard the work, and to Heinrich Christensen for the warm welcome he has extended to Henningmusick dating back to 2009.

Ready for Tomorrow

All-day breakfast, and other interminable meals ....

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

The world moves on a woman’s hips

The world moves and it swivels and bops

The world moves on a woman’s hips

The world moves and it bounces and hops

— The Talking Heads, “The Great Curve”

Our dress rehearsal today was excellent. Highly gratifying both in the wonderful talent of the players, and in the composer’s having effectively “written into” their abilities. And now, to Show Up.

Decimetring Along

 That old playground rhyme notwithstanding, I don’t recall even a single time that any of my teachers gave me a dirty look.

Quite possibly a failing of my own.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I thought, “Robert Fripp’s a good guitarist. Maybe we could do something.”

— Andy Summers of The Police

The duration of Music for the Un-Hip Hop is about six minutes and a half, so that is my goal for A Dance Floor for the Introverted. I have composed just a shade above two minutes thus far. At present the Fantasia on a Theme by Rahsaan Roland Kirk is at just about five minutes. I think I want to make it an eight-minute piece. We shall see. Good progress on both pieces today, and now they’ll rest for a couple of days.

Inching Along

Hearing that song from 1981 set me to thinking that the utter lack of imagination in the saxophone playing does not at all suggest a man at work.
Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

What was once regarded as roaring, blaring dissonance coupled with incoherent rhythmic and formal patterns has become accepted today as one of the great musical creations of the age.
—David Hall, from notes to the 1951 LP of the BSO playing Le sacre du printemps under Pierre Monteux’s direction.

It occurs to me, as I have begun composing the Opus 178 № 2, A Dance Floor for the Introverted, that I have unwittingly sidled into a kind of landmark. As I used routinely to do before my stroke, I am at work on more than one piece simultaneously. Both the Dance Floor and the Op. 197 Fantasia are at about the one-minute mark, as I have tweaked the latter and expanded it slightly.