Happy Easter! As the quarantine continues, I won’t have the usual things to present in the blog here because I haven’t really had a chance to record things. The churches that I currently have access are (mostly) closed and with the end of the semester looming I’m not sure I will have a chance to finish recording Sonata No. 1 for a bit. But never avail, I have a few recordings to get through for the time being.
While I have labeled this as “chamber,” it is really full symphony. As a part of my DMA studies I was required to write a large scale work and this is the result of a lot of revisions. A LOT of revisions. I think I put in the video that I worked on the piece from 2015 to 2019 and it may be more accurate to say 2013 to 2019. When I was first accepted into WVU’s DMA composition program, I began work on Paschal, which started off as a single movement, 20 minute work. It was very tonal, very inspired by Messiaen in many ways, and it was generally conservative.
Well, that was then and what the piece has morphed into is a three movement work totaling about 15 minutes. The entire piece uses the chants found for the Easter morning Mass, but that is merely for precompositional purposes. Mostly, I used the term Paschal in the sense that it is about spring. Growing up in Alaska, Spring was an explosive time, usually about two to three weeks where everything buds and grows. And this first movement is that moment early in the morning when the condensation has gathered and that image guided the creation of Ros in lucem.
The last post introduced the Prelude of Sonata No. 1 and is its musical pair, the second movement, Chorale. I mentioned that the Prelude was somewhat inspired by Duruflé’s Prelude, Chorale and Variations on Veni Creator. I prelude (pun intended) this about the chorale as to talk about the one of the main inspirations for this movement, Franck’s Three Chorales.
There is no doubt that Cesar Franck’s Chorale in A minor is a staple of the organ repertoire. It is a rich fantasy like piece that derives its form from itself, organically growing from one section to another. I sought to do that with this movement – to let it naturally grow into each of its parts. Consequently, it is in an arch form and it was the first movement to be completed out of the four. Go listen to the link of the Franck at about 5’25” – hopefully you will hear the connection with this Sonata around 1’12”. Like the first movement and Duruflé, this is my little homage to Franck.
After the Prelude ends with sol-la-fi-sol in the pedals, it is stated immediately again in the Chorale. That little motif is the building block for the whole movement. The only little secret I’ll reveal is at the end: the registration for the beginning and ending chorale is flute, viole, and celeste. The box closes just before the coda and then opens to a mf and taking out the flute. It gives the impression of less while giving you room to get even quieter. It is a great trick my undergraduate professor taught me and I have never forgotten it. The Sonata No. 1 can be purchased here at Selah Publishing.
Finally. I am now here to present one of the best pieces I have ever written. In fact, I have been wanting to present the Sonata No. 1 for some time as it is probably the biggest premier of a work I have ever had. The piece was commissioned by the Kansas City AGO for 2018 the National Convention as a piece that would work for both concert and church – namely a piece that is technically accessible to most players. If there has been a theme in my compositional career, it is writing technically accessible works.
I do not mean to downplay that either! Philosophically, it is really important that composers engage with all levels of technical ability and accessibility. On this blog I have shown works with modernist tendencies, especially the Evening Improvisations (which aren’t really works, but hey, I’m the one counting here), in contrast to, say, the Miniatures, which are meant to be used in all sorts of occasions and are generally accessible technically and aesthetically. But it is that last part that I feel I have honed well.
I have attempted to record this Sonata many, many times. I did record it at my former position at the Monastery, but the Moller there was in no condition to release it publicly. I tried several times at Duquesne’s Chapel, where I have been doing most of my recording lately, but failed to perform it well enough. I also tried at St. Paul Cathedral but the air conditioning there made the recording unusable. I also tried at the church I am currently employed at and there is a tiny air leak that also made the recording unusable. So, before Duquesne closed indefinitely, I was able to get in there and get the first three movements successfully recorded.
The first movement, Prelude, is meant to introduce the simple theme of the Sonata: sol-la-fi-sol. It isn’t really spelled out until the very end, right before the Chorale. Admittedly, I was using Duruflé’s Prelude, Chorale, and Variations on Veni Creator as a model for the beginning of this piece. Even to the point that they are both in D and begin with a similar flowing motif. I do feel that this piece is best when it is performed with the Chorale directly afterward – they are two peas in a pod, at least in my head. Though I do think it stands well by itself; Enjoy! (The score can be purchased through Selah Publishing here.)
Obviously, it has been yet another busy time for me since I haven’t made a post in two months. Well, in that time I finished a symphonic work and had it read for my doctorate, subbed at a church and then became interim organist and director, and have been spending every waking moment on writing my dissertation. With all that going on, along with family, it has been a busy time and I unfortunately have neglected the blog. I have had all the intentions in the world to record the two Sonatas – I even had two failed recording sessions! I will try to get back to that soon.
In the mean time, I went through my things and I found a recording of a work that I have not yet published. I was commissioned by Michelle Kardos to write a work for organ and percussion for her graduate recital and I have the premier recording! It was a fun piece to write and one that I hope to edit in a publishable form soon. The percussion part needs some editing to be more accurate to my intentions. Percussion is my Achilles Heel in composing and I was really happy with the result here. From my perspective, I simply went to town with the percussion.
Let me present you with the first problem in my head: the organ is not a percussive instrument and keeping time between the two performers would be incredibly challenging. Let alone the space between the pipes, console and percussion instruments, coordination at the very least is a huge problem. First solution: an ostinato pulse throughout the entire work. Second, the contrast between the instruments need to work together. Next solution: have the percussion move through stations of similar instruments. Third thought and solution: if the percussion is progressing through various “stations,” than the form of the work should reflect that. Five stations and form moments seem correct; divide the work in a “mirror” fashion. As in, the form of the piece would reflect an ABCBA like form. I also had the stations reflect that as well – metallic percussion in the B sections, snare and tom toms in the As and C is something totally different! Final compositional consideration: this is a performance work not a liturgical one. That means I use materials that I might not normally use and in this case it is a tone row and its matrix. I decided to do it a tonal manner similar to the composer Joseph Wilcox Jenkins.
Before presenting the work, I want to give you all who read this an awesome quote. When I interviewed Olivier Latry for my doctorate, I mentioned that I was writing this work, specifically about the challenge of writing the non-percussive organ. His response was something like, “It depends on who the organist is.” So brilliant. I do want to mention the quality of the recording – it’s not perfect. That’s not because of the recording engineer – it’s more to do with the church space. As mentioned earlier, the percussion was physically closer to the mics than the pipes were and the diffusion in the church space was dominated by percussion. Finally, about the title: I wanted to write some heavy metal for the organ. I internet searched “heavy metal” and after the musical genre, it gave me “high density metal.” Sold.
Whew! At long last I have finally finished recording the second set of Miniatures. Actually, I made the recording several weeks ago, but I finally got around to editing it with noise filters and eq and the like. I’m in the midst of the last week of the semester and am gearing up for finals, which amazingly is giving me a little time to get this done.
Way back when I started this second volume of Miniatures, I mentioned how these works reflect my improvisational style and humor. Now that I am through the next eight, I can confidently say that this next set fits very well. Some have funny names, some are exploratory with repeat signs, some are simple and accessible. Miniature XV, another carillon, is a lively postlude or concert piece. Since that is how I ended the last set of Miniatures, I did not want to end the second volume the same way.
I broke my own rules! This is two pages! It has a line for the pedals! It’s somewhat challenging! There are no repeat signs! (That last one is meant as a joke!) Let me explain: my wonderful mentor in composition, Denis Bédard, has a particular style that has had a great influence on me. In trying to come up with something that would fit well with these Miniatures and I remembered something about his works that he often does: label one part non-legato while the melody is labeled legato. It is not unusual in organ music, but it is his particular way of labeling it that I thought about.
And that was it! That little thought led to this final Miniature XVI. It took a few edits and revisions like Miniature XV did, but I am quite happy with the end result. There are no registration changes in the way I performed the work, though I think there certainly could be, especially at the reprise. But I wanted to demonstrate how these Miniatures can be adapted and interpreted. I am not a composer, at least with these works, where I feel that my voice needs to be heard as much as the performer’s interpretation. Download the work here!
It feels like an eternity since I’ve posted and it has been quite a while. It’s not surprising because I started a new job this fall teaching full-time. But it is also because I was unsatisfied with the final two Miniatures. As these particular compositions are somewhat fluid from movement to movement, I wanted the last two to be solid postludes. This Miniature XV, is another carillon piece similar to Miniature VIII. Honestly, I did not set out to write another carillon, it just turned into one as the piece developed.
Here is where the trouble began. One of the criteria I have had with these miniatures is to keep the number of pages to a minimum, but that has gotten in the way particularly in this piece. I tried to keep Miniature XV to one page but that final coda section really needed to be longer. And not just longer, it needs a canon! Oh, now it needs that flat VI chord! And it needs to modulate to minor! And! And! Unlike many of the other Miniatures, this went through quite a few edits before I was satisfied and I am satisfied. Download Miniature XV here at IMSLP!
Miniature XIV is pretty emblematic of the miniatures as a series of works. It is on one page, it contains a simple accompanying motif and melody, repeat sign is there, and it has the kinds of progressions I like to wander through when writing tonal music. What then separates this Miniature from the rest of the series? For me, it is that back and forth between that Eb and E in the opening motif. It’s minor! Now it’s major for a moment! Back to minor! That kind of modal mixing very easily leads to some nice dissonances. It is ultimately tonal, meaning that C is the center of all the tonal wandering, but it is finding a different way to move away from that center and find a satisfying way back. The ritard at the end is really necessary to emphasize both the melodic direction and the final chords after E natural and B natural resolve to E flat and C.
This may sound a little strange, but I don’t usually keep track of the key signatures of these Miniatures. They are usually composed individually and maybe other than general aesthetic, I don’t compare them back to back. Except when I notice it! After I finished writing this particular Miniature, I discovered that two movements are in C, three in E, and one in A. I can say for sure that the next two Miniatures will not be in any of those key centers.
PS: the title can be roughly translated as “gone into the darkness.” I don’t think of darkness as implicitly bad, but in the context of looking into the night sky in complete darkness. Having grown up in Alaska, I really miss those skies filled with stars. That is what I was truly thinking of when composing this Miniature.
After several Miniatures that have been exploring repeat signs here, here, and here in this most recent set, I decided I needed a compositional palette cleanser. That cleanser took the form of a fugue, which is not always unusual for me. Improvisationally, fugues are generally something I go to as they are always challenging. Even in composition, it is tough to write a fugue that is truly successful and interesting. For Sonata No. 2, I wrote an easy four part fugue which presented all sorts of compositional challenges. Well, I decided to happily take up the challenge again.
This time, for Miniature XIII, I gave myself a few different parameters: 5/4 time signature, a “chorale fugue” with the subject used as the chorale in the pedals (not a REAL chorale), and keeping it generally easy. I think the funkiest thing about the fugue is that it is in 5/4. That time signature though allowed me to play with the accents between pairs of bars giving the impression of groups of 6 or 4 but never letter that take over the general accent that happens on a down beat. Download the score free on IMSLP!
My Miniature XII, latest in the series, is here and I hate to say it, it’s left overs. By that I mean, the kernel of the movement comes from Miniature X. In that blog post I mentioned my fascination with using repeats to create a lot of music with little in the score. That particular movement took a long time to write and generated a lot of material, some of it being worthy of its own movement.
Now when I talk about material, in this case it was more of a tonal progression than say a literal set of specific notes. Listening to Miniature X, there are a lot of places that I tried to take it, none of them correct until I found its C major/C minor interaction at the beginning. This Miniature XII uses one of those rejected progressions and maintains the use of repeats. Here is where I want to address something: I am not the biggest fan of 4×4 phrasing. Mozart and Haydn and much of pop music did/does it excellently and I have no problem with that for them. It’s fine, I am just not terribly interested in it and prefer to subvert it when necessary. (Honestly, it always depends on the composition.)
In order to avoid the constant 2×2 repeated measure groupings, I stuck a single measure in the middle of them once in a while. I am not claiming to be clever or anything like that, just that the solution to all the repeats giving the work a 4×4/2×2 like phrase structure is a single measure. 8 measures becomes 9, or 12 becomes 13. It gives the work an odd feel at moments when you might expect the harmony to follow the strict phrase structure. It keeps the work fresh and interesting! At least I hope so. You judge: get the score here on IMSLP.
Every once in a while I write something that needs no revisions. Or nearly very little editing upon its conception. This Sarabande de lo dulce or Miniature XI, is one of those works. I love it when an idea just flows out nearly in completion after conception. There were a few minor edits, but what you here in the recording is nearly what I began with.
Perhaps part of that is being an improviser/composer. There is a huge difference between the two: improvisation is truly in the moment, whereas composition has the time and patience to realize a fruition in its ideas. That’s a bit simplistic, but I don’t think it’s entirely inaccurate. I have experienced that ebb and flow of ideas when everything clicks or the opposite, when nothing works and it is kind of frustrating. This can happen both in the unfolding of an improvisation or as a composition is being developed.
As I said in the beginning, this piece just flowed easily. I would contrast that with Miniature X which went through a number of edits. In fact, I finished this work before Miniature X. I gave myself a limitation of being in the lowest parts of the organ, which requires an instrument that can speak in those octaves. If I were on the Moller at the Monastery, it would never work. But being at Holy Spirit in Missoula, on the wonderful Bond organ, I knew it would work really well. Download the piece here on IMSLP!