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.
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.
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!"
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 ....
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 ...
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.
