Present Thoughtage

The We-Wouldn’t-Dream-of-Making-Trouble Dead
— Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

I was feeling a little disgruntled with the world at the time and had put together about six different plots, each of which ended with the destruction of the world in a different way, and for a different reason. It was to be called “The Ends of the Earth.” While I was filling in the details of the first plot—in which the earth was demolished to make way for a new hyperspace express route—I realized that I needed to have someone from another planet around to tell the reader what was going on, to give the story the context it needed. So I had to work out who he was and what he was doing on the Earth... ...the BBC’s attitude toward the show [the radio production of THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY] while it was in production was very similar to that which Macbeth had toward murdering people—initial doubts, followed by cautious enthusiasm and then greater and greater alarm at the sheer scale of the undertaking and still no end in sight. Reports that Geoffrey and I and the sound engineers were buried in a subterranean studio for weeks on end, taking as long to produce a single sound effect as other people took to produce an entire series (and stealing everybody else’s studio time in which to do so) were all vigorously denied but absolutely true. The budget of the series escalated to the point that it could have practically paid for a few seconds of DALLAS ....

— The late, great Douglass Adams

Having been around the block a few times, I know the difference between today and ever after. So yes, this is today.

All in all, pleased with what I have composed in 2026 so far, the Opp. 205-210, albeit less than half an hour of music all told.

Although I have some notions for a new piece/adaptation or two (and an unfinished chamber orchestra piece) the plain fact is that today I feel no particular motivation to creative work, particularly no need to write another large-scale work for the shelf.

This is not despondency, but merely a current report. I could see the situation turning on a dime. I do not, at the moment, see the dime.

I was thinking of a piece for horn and organ, but the response to my suggestion was at best unenthusiastic, and I do not feel like writing another piece no one else actually wants.

Gravity Is In

 Ernest Borgnine playing a Russian (in Ice Station Zebra.) Now I have lived!
— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

A dull, argumentative bigmouth who sets back the art of conversation a thousand years...
— Rod Serling (1963)

With the completion of One for Ahmad, Op. 208 for the 1 December troika, and apparently semi-subconsciously reflecting that there is probably room/need for another piece, yesterday I wrapped up the Opus 210. Semi-subconsciously, because a night or two before I dreamt of composing a piece. In my dream the initial conceit of the piece came to me clearly: an ostinato with the two flutes which takes its time, thereby setting up the drama of the bass clarinet entrance. In my dream the piece bore the title The Measure of a Life, which is one of those things which seemed better in the dreamworld than upon waking. But what I felt was the title which suited the piece as it took shape in my waking labors was Gravity Is What Keeps Me Abed at Night.

Photo by Maria Bablyak.

Re-Thinking December

 While it is by no means the chiefest of my quarrels with Peter Jackson’s Tolkien adaptation, the accent in Sméagol is so glaringly obvious, I fail to see any rationale whatsoever for rhyming it with “beagle.”
— Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

Gene Wilder: Do you call this tea?
Marty Feldman: No, I call it hot water. I was rinsing out the cup when you grabbed it.
— The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother

First thoughts for our December date at King’s Chapel appeared here. However, we shall again be a trio, though a different trio. As a result, I have designated a new scoring and discovered new musical material for One for Ahmad, Op. 208. Dennis Báthory-Kitsz, Frank Warren  & Chris Forbes have graciously and gamely consented to compose into the change, as well. And another new piece is sneaking up on me: Gravity Is What Keeps Me Abed at Night.

And we have July rehearsals in the book for the Sextet.