Guitar P.I.C - Performance, Improvisation and Composition

I was really enjoying brainstorming some ideas tonight for a talk on Mahler that I am going to give to some Year 12 Music 2 students (Music advanced or Music extension, something equivalent to that). Here I was writing about ways I could motivate others to immerse themselves in music and how important it is to just create something or anything without trying to be good, when I realised that I had been slacking off on my own composing. I have been stuck at home all week with a fairly severe head cold, so I haven’t really felt up to it for a while.

I recorded myself singing and playing guitar for 40 mins tonight through the inbuilt mic on my laptop. I started off just trying to improvise for the duration with little hope of striking gold. A few minutes into my announcement of whatever sub-lyric idea I had over the same old chord patterns, I felt the self-loathing coming on; however, I quickly reminded myself that I was just warming up and that improvisation is a continual process of practicing and reviewing (hence, the recording).

I don’t think that I came out with anything particularly substantial, but this cannot be decided until I’ve listened back to the recording. It was a really excellent experience though, and I actually had a lot of affirmations about things that were not entirely related to music while I was sitting there singing and playing. I’m pretty sure I managed to capture some of these thoughts because I sang them. Thinking about this process now makes me really look forward to entering this state again. I will become better at describing it, as I practice it more often.

Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity

This evening I read an old friend's facebook status update that simply said "Jupiter". In a flurry of excitement, I opened up my planetarium software to see if it was in fact visible from my location and found that it was quite low in the eastern sky. I felt compelled to walk to the beach and look at it, even though this meant I would have to avoid plans to do some composing in Pro Tools and more exercises in Scales, Intervals, Keys, Triads, Rhythm and Meter.

I walked out into the cold winter air and noticed that I could actually see Jupiter from my house. I decided to keep going, as I'd already resolved to go the whole distance and as soon as I started walking down the road I noticed that my state of mind changed. That feeling of fascination and inspiration that comes from standing by the ocean at night and under a clear sky was activated instantly, and triggered all sorts of memories and emotions of times I had felt it before. Even though I was alone on this walk, I had the company of multiple imagined visions of myself in my home town at all different stages of my life.

I took my phone with me for the walk and pulled it out several times to record some vocal improvisations of words and melodies. After the first one I did, I listened to it and noticed that my attention started to shift from the customary appraisal of the recording's worth to a simple appreciation of having the ability to do these things.

I returned home and had a listen to the piano I recorded into Reason a couple of weeks ago. It inspired me to get more familiar with the key that I was working with and try out some chords, but I spent most of the time just adding comments to the ideas I liked for future reference. While there is a temptation to dedicate some time to collating every idea that I've ever recorded to make sure they're all easily accessible, I am wary of overcompensating by trying to organise everything and not placing enough trust in the more productive, spontaneous part of my mind.

New direction for the critical self

The more I look back over last week and recall conversations with people, the more I notice how much more productive and expansive I have become from changing my approach to composing. To become a master composer is my dream, and I am now free to just enjoy learning as I practice being creative daily. I have no obligations when it comes to composing and I can just experiment and continue finding new and exciting ways to use my time effectively.

At the end of last week I spent my train rides to and from work doing two things. The first was listening to the keyboard ideas that I recorded and making note of the parts that I liked. In that 40 min recording I heard many ideas that I can take and start crafting a composition out of. I look forward to this process, because I know that when I listen again I'll experience the creative energy I need to decide how the ideas fit together.

The second thing was writing lyrics! Yes, the dreaded lyrics. I know this is a frustration for a lot of composers in music of many styles and the most important thing I can tell you right now is that you don't have to be good at writing lyrics. Just write. Chances are you are already a lot better than most of the lyric writers putting their stuff out there. I can say this because I believe that if you are so critical of yourself that you fear writing lyrics and worry about embarrassment, then you probably know what makes good lyrics and have the potential to create them yourself.

There are many strategies and techniques out there to help you become a master lyricist and in the near future I will be starting to put my own ideas into an actual music coaching package. For now, I will just share the success I've been having with my writing during the train rides. What I did was just write a stream of couplets with no structure or pre-conceived idea for 40 mins. I wasn't trying to write amazing lyrics, I was just practicing and having fun, noticing how I think, how I think I think and noticing words and rhymes.

I'm just having a look over these lyrics now and I think it will be fun to share some of them with you. Notice the inner experience that this stream of couplets creates within you. Does it sometimes seem like you're reading about me and sometimes seem like you're reading about yourself? Remember that this is not a finished piece of work, it is just an exercise in becoming more confident with lyric writing. Try to imagine how you might take some of these themes and create a piece out of them. Could some of the lines be moved around to create a more consistent and powerful verse? Could some others be removed altogether?

There are ways you could try
To feel and act more alive
You might think that you've grown
But you're still on your own
You can block out the noise
And never use your own voice
All those drugs cause you pain
Yet you won't choose to refrain
Now you want people to meet
The true you that's unseen
And you've bought all the tools
And unlearned all the rules
You've prepared all the questions
And absorbed the suggestions
You're perturbed by your thoughts
While other people just talk
You wish you were bolder
And waited til you were older
How your unconscious goes
Towards what you want to disclose
You were taught dreams mean nothing
Just cause sometimes they're frightening
But you know they felt real
And it's important to feel
Put down your magazine
And turn away from the screen
The most beautiful people
Are the ones that can see you
You think you ain't racist
But do you hold the same gazes?
We all want the lunch special
But we're always too careful
And I always get sidetracked
And notice it's my trap
I turn to a blank page
And worry about the next phase
There's few friends you can lean on
And you don't have to be strong
This obsession with connection is killing us slow
There's nothing to gain and nowhere to go
And there's no way to tell other than in the flesh
Who the real person is and how they rank in the contest
And if you look inside then you probably know
If you think too much then you're labelled as slow
What's the point of talking
If you can't say what you mean
When you dance around the issue it will show
You'll never get the perfect thought
The inner search is unworldly
But if you practice long and hard
It won't be so unnerving

Reason as a compositional tool

I am becoming more confident in my abilities on the piano and now find myself composing on it as the instrument that the composition will be performed on. It think it is also useful for me to seperate the process of scoring the individuals parts for ensemble works seperate to this piano composition phase.

I have spent the last few nights composing on a MIDI keyboard hooked up to Reason. I have just been hitting record and playing for the whole 40 minutes, improvising and experimenting with different note combinations, and being free to leave decisions about what is worth keeping until some later point. There is still a lot of conscious effort being put in during this time trying to find the best ways to put notes together, and the beauty of recording everything is that I will get a chance to hear more of the unconscious playing when I listen to it.

Composition Diary Mk II

After months of not posting, I have decided to reevaluate my goals and start composing regularly again. Given my reasons for creating this blog, I can understand how the lack of entries appeared as a sign of me abandoning composing altogether; however, this was not the case. It was more my attitude towards composing that changed during this time. I became too concerned with achieving the end result and lost sight of why I commited to doing 40 mins of composing a day in the first place.

The main problem was trying to sequence the ideas I already had into a bigger piece. I became very frustrated when the individual sections didn't join smoothly and ended up dreading the whole composition process because of this! It is very easy to become uninspired trying to work through a composition from start to finish. Your unconscious mind does not work like that. The whole point of the 40 mins is to give the compositional part of the brain a workout and to train it to generate states of flow and inspiration automatically. It is a time to get as many ideas down as possible without thinking about whether or not they're up to scratch. Chances are they are all up to scratch. You should thank your critical mind for all the fantastic unique work it has helped you create in the past and ask it to find new ways to help you that are less negatively stressful during any creative process.

I am now looking forward to composing often and approaching it with a sense of fun and adventure, integrating all aspects of my life (=learning) and noticing the states of inspiration as they come more frequently with practice.

Mahler 1 – The Odyssey Begins (Review)

Markus Eiche, Vladimir Ashkenazy and Sydney Symphony Orchestra
Sydney Opera House Concert Hall
Wed 10, Fri 12, Sat 13 February 2010 8pm
Thu 11 February 2010 1.30pm

Vladimir Ashkenazy and the Sydney Symphony Orchestra began The Mahler Odyssey 2010-11 with a programme revolving around Mahler’s First Symphony. I attended both the Thursday afternoon and Saturday evening concerts, sitting in the front circle during the former and the mid stalls during the latter.

The programme began with Richard Strauss’ symphonic poem, Don Juan. Strauss and Mahler were friends as well as rivals, and Don Juan was premiered just weeks apart from Mahler’s First Symphony in 1889. At this time and throughout most of Mahler’s life, his compositions were considered controversial while Strauss’ received adulation and success.

The performance by the orchestra was energetic and slick, with athletic strings and wind, heroic brass and a general sense of the grandeur of the Romantic era. Boisterous climaxes were interlaced with more subdued, intimate affairs and themes were combined and transformed throughout before an unexpected sparse, quiet ending in the minor key. This is the Don Juan that looks for total love and fails to find it, in contrast to Albert Camus’ idea that Don Juan loves each woman with the same passion and becomes dependent on that repetition.

Mahler’s Blumine movement, which he dropped from his First Symphony, was performed next in the programme. Upon hearing the first performance I regarded the work as short and pretty, and it seemed obvious that it did not fit with the rest of the symphony. At the Saturday performance, I was imagining what this simple, uncomplicated serenade would sound like in the first half of the symphony, between the first and second movements. The possibilities for development and expansion of the movement’s material were evident, particularly in sections like the dual between oboe and double basses.

The first violinists moved their seats back to make way for baritone Markus Eiche in preparation for the next part of the programme, Mahler’s Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (Songs of a Wayfarer). The four-movement song cycle, composed 1883-5 contains many themes that also appear in Symphony No. 1. For instance, in the opening bars of the first song, Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht (On my sweetheart’s wedding day) Mahler achieves a ‘cuckoo’-like call through the interval of a descending fourth in the clarinet that reoccurs in various pitches, rhythms and timbres throughout the four movements of the song cycle and the entire First Symphony.

The orchestration and interplay between instruments and voice were quite striking in this song, especially where the voice and pianissimo string accompaniment were interrupted by the clarinet ‘cuckoo’-like calls in the first verse in D minor. Eiche’s low and midrange tones were crisp, but a little too much pharynx resonance was apparent at times. For instance, on the highly expressive line “Hab’ich meinen traurigen Tag!” (It will be a sad day for me!), his high notes sounded squashed, lacking the warmth and clarity from his lower registers.

The contrast of the second verse in Eb major was well delivered, with lighter and more animated woodwinds complimenting the interaction between the solo violin and flowing vocal line. The point of the climax at the end of this verse could be said to serve as a simple, yet powerful initiation into Mahler’s world. That is, the point where the Wayfarer pleads with nature to never cease its eternal cycle of flowers blooming and birds singing, before he returns to his solitary world of resignation and agony in the third verse in D minor.

Eiche beautifully portrayed the return of the nature-loving Wayfarer in the second song, Ging heut’ morgen übers Feld (I went out this morning into the fields). The main melody in D major – that would be heard again after interval as the primary theme in the first movement of Mahler’s First Symphony – was handled superbly by Eiche, who maintained tonal depth and clear diction over the lightest and most bouncy passages. For the comparatively sombre final verse in B major, Eiche demonstrated a clear and consistent pianissimo sob that was particularly moving, especially on the final line “Nein, nein, das ich mein’, Mir nimmer blühen kann!” (No, no, that happiness can never bloom for me!).

After all these vacillations between the beauty of nature and personal angst, the orchestra broke out in a stormy fortissimo D minor for the third song, Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer (I have a red-hot knife). From the front circle of the Sydney Opera House concert hall it sounded like Eiche was being overpowered by the orchestra at times, an effect that may have been intentional given that it is the Wayfarer who is the victim in this violent outburst.

The fourth and final song, Die zwei blauen Augen (The two blue eyes) contained a theme that not only would be heard after interval in the third movement of Mahler’s First Symphony, but in every single concert of the Sydney Symphony 2010-11 Mahler Odyssey: the funeral march. Leonard Bernstein pointed out in his 1984 television essay The Little Drummer Boy that Mahler was obsessed with death to the point that he included a funeral march in every single major work. The effect of the orchestra’s and Eiche’s performance of this quiet and minimal song, with its subtle chromatic variations and changing meter was hypnotic. It left an unsettling feeling that was strong enough to draw attention away from the anxious anticipation of the main event after interval.

The beginning of the First Symphony, with its bare opening consisting of the note A spread over seven octaves, could have easily been confused with the orchestra tuning up! The sustained notes continued in a meditative hum, as several of the symphony’s main themes were slowly introduced: the ‘cuckoo’-like call, fanfares (played by trumpets offstage) and a chromatic bass motif. As the cuckoo calls became more frequent and the trumpet players tiptoed onstage, it suddenly became apparent that the cuckoo motif was really a preparation for the main melody from the second Wayfarer song, Ging heut’ morgen übers Feld.

Vladimir Ashkenazy was very delicate in his interpretation of Mahler’s symphonic treatment of the song, especially during the exposition where the melodies from the first verse are reintroduced and a gradual, but steady increase in tempo is required. He managed to hold back and not get too carried away with the short, but momentous crescendo/decrescendo, so that the simultaneous presentation of the first and third verse material in the next section was truly a celebration.

The development section was played steadily, enabling one to become immersed in the variations of the main motifs and the process of the song’s various melodic fragments conjoining in different shapes. It also made one more deeply aware of Mahler’s use of suspense, not only as a way of playing with the listener’s expectations, but also as a way of making the most out of structural landmarks like the recapitulation and ending.

The main section of the second movement was a lot of fun to watch and hear, as the synchronised bowing movements of the string section made the music even more visceral. It was also clear from the smiles on the player’s faces how much they enjoyed this part. The movement as a whole is an appropriation of Mahler’s 1880-1 song, Hans und Grethe. The trio section contains a sublime symphonic treatment of the song’s melodic material which comes across as a reverie, like an imagining of the song itself in the midst of the jaunty outer sections.

The third and fourth movements were a major contrast to the first two, with the humour becoming darker and the nature motifs turning into something more demonic. The third movement contained the children’s round Frère Jacques played by the gloomiest instruments of the orchestra in the minor mode and at a funeral march tempo. After having recourse to the fourth Wayfarer song and returning to the mock funeral march, one got the feeling of being under some sort of murky spell as the movement wound to a close.

An extremely loud cymbal crash shocked everyone back into consciousness at the beginning of the fourth and final movement, as the orchestra launched into an inferno of wild strings and demonic fanfares. The beginning of this movement was so raucous that some audience members had to leave. This is music that was completed in 1899 – over a decade before Stravinsky’s infamous Rite of Spring – and it can still be considered violent over a century later.

Well and truly initiated with Mahler’s dualities by this point in the concert, the listener could understand how all this violence could lead into a cantabile sentimental passage for strings and horns, complete with woodwind calls, chromatic wanderings and lots of rubato. The themes introduced at the very beginning of the symphony were heard in many different forms as the stormy/sentimental duality continued, and the expectations of the audience were violated as certain sections seemed to be abandoned prematurely, creating tensions that needed to accumulate for the life-changing release at the end.

There was a great feeling of unification and universality at both concerts during the applause after the conclusion of the symphony’s last movement. It was as if the liberation I felt was what everyone else felt as well, like a giant wave of energy that allowed us to walk out of the concert hall on air together just for a few moments before returning to our own individual lives. While all parts of the programme were engaging having experienced them all once on Thursday, I was mostly excited about hearing the symphony itself again before Saturday’s concert and afterwards, as well. The rest of the Mahler concerts played by Sydney Symphony are sure to be monumental events and 2010-11 will be a special time in Sydney’s musical history.

Pro Tools as a compositional tool

I worked on my arrangement of Theatre of Cruelty tonight using Pro Tools. I wanted to feel that step closer to the finished product in composing for this project - being able to hear the arrangements straight after I think of them. So far I have recorded three electric guitar parts and an electric bass part for the intro. My main reaction to what I heard was that it would be better suited to strings. I am going to continue these composing sessions recording in Pro Tools, because I feel like I will benefit a lot from this process, especially seeing as it requires me to actually execute parts written for other instruments on the guitar.

Matter over mind - Piano composition

On Monday, Craig Cavanough and I set up to record another section for our composition. We spent a long time trying to expand on the very first riff that I started playing, before we realised that it was weak material. What ended up being recorded in the session came out pretty quickly and was more complementary to the bit we recorded last week. Craig also re-recorded his drum part from last week, to account for his drums being tuned differently.

I tried to do some composing on the piano Monday night, but I was feeling lost away from my usual set up. I spoke to Gail about it on Tuesday and explained how I felt more comfortable translating the notes I heard in my head with the guitar. She suggested that I should try composing on the piano using cells (I can't explain the difference between cells and motifs, if there is one) and concentrate more on the physical nature of the instrument, rather than getting too carried away with notating what is in my head. It is possible that what is going on in my head is too complicated a lot of the time, and the visual nature of the piano might help me to take a step back and start composing more efficiently.

I still place a great deal of importance in being able to write without an instrument. It may not be the most ideal situation all the time, but it is certainly a useful skill to have. It would certainly make commuting to Sydney by train - as I am inevitably going to have to do soon - a more productive way to use 2-3 hours of the day. I trialed the journey today attending a job interview. I managed to write some lyrics for the composition with Craig Cavanough, start notating a few ideas for my arrangement of Benjamin Kunkler's Theatre of Cruelty, and give some thought to the overall structure of the Benjamin Britten arrangement.

Multi-Layer Recording and Music Puzzles

It feels like I've acquired several projects to balance since the beginning of this diary. Productivity measured in small increments adds up to a much larger effort than I've ever been able to reflect on before. The Tetanus Rig composition process has been slow and meticulous, but now it seems like I have more evidence to support the beauty of it. It is amazing to work with people who have the patience to let each other search for their optimum part in a composition. I certainly take my time with this, as I struggle to play my ideas as I think of them. There is something about working in a group that makes the ideas come quicker.

Molto-talented drummer/producer/engineer Craig Cavanough and I got together for a jam on the weekend for the first time in nearly a year and a half. We have been planning to record some multi-layered, asymmetrical tones for a while now, and when we set our instruments up on Sunday we started realising them straight away. I urged myself to get away from repetition (i.e. the riff) in favour of rhythmic and melodic alterations to a simple idea introduced at the start. This is something that fascinates me in my own listening and it is what motivates me to study orchestral works. Craig and I bounced ideas off each other in our customary way, though he was a lot quicker than me at executing his on the drums. Craig engineered the recording of what we'd come up with and pulled a great sound in a short amount of time.

As we listened back to it, I started to hear a low two-part vocal idea in my head. I explained to Craig how it could follow the drums and decided to work on it at home. I came up with some harmonies tonight and started trying to write lyrics to them. This was in addition to 40 mins on the Britten arrangement, which I haven't worked on since my last entry. I still haven't worked out the structure of the whole piece or even the current section. Writing with the pencil and paper is like a riveting puzzle that wakes up some obscure part of the brain. Learning piano is a bit like that too. When the time comes to worry about the structure, I'll have a wealth of material to play with.

Musique concrète on a parlour guitar

A mate recorded me doing some improvising on his parlour guitar last night. I played it fingerstyle and tried to push the tempo of some arpeggio finger exercises that I've been learning. I cut the best phrases from my improvisation and pasted them together using audio editing software. He was rather amused with this particular approach and what resulted from it. I stopped as soon as I lost the enthusiasm and flow that I started with and saved the audio file for listening some other time.

I had a pretty productive composing session tonight, even though I had to stop the clock half way through to answer a phone call. I am composing more quickly and freely now without worrying about the structure, dynamics, expressive techniques, etc. I am really happy to just focus on getting as many of the notes down as possible at this stage.

Piano lessons are going really well. My practice is scheduled in such a way that I only focus on learning, not revising. I have a list of new scales and cadences to practice each week, and I only ever spend a maximum of 5 minutes on each one. I take 2 minute breaks in between each short burst of intense learning to clear my head with some light reading. I save learning new pieces for the very end as a reward. I focus on 2 new pieces a week and spend 10 mins a day on each. I got this idea of time limits in my practice from a book called Chord-Tone Soloing by Barrett Tagliarino. I find that it keeps practice sessions focused and is proving to be highly effectice.

Lastly, I would like to suggest an activity. Put on some headphones, go to Rainy Mood and find a piece of music to listen to in combination with the sounds you hear. Try and adjust the volume levels of the rain sounds and the music so that you get the optimum mix between the two. Shift between listening to individual sounds and the overall combination. Write down how this makes you feel. Describe any urges you may have, or any images or colours that you can visualise. How is the music affected by the rain sounds? Do you hear the music now in a different context? Do you favour different parts of the music now over the ones you do normally?

Mobile composing

After several composing sessions with the manuscript paper and pencil, I have gotten to know the notes pretty well. This is handy at times when I have nothing to occupy myself with, such as on the weekend when I was waiting for someone. I started to try and play the individual parts in my head from memory and then to try and hear them all together. Then, all of a sudden I was actually hearing ideas for what could come next! I didn't write them down, but I didn't have any trouble remembering them either. I found that I was much quicker when I sat down to write this evening, as the composition is starting to enter my mind more often when I am away from it.

I haven't forgotten about the Mahler reviews. I will aim to complete these by the end of this week.

Goal setting and spotting gems

I read a great article in Computer Music magazine today that explained the importance of scheduled composition time. It referred to the composition process as an exploration of musical fragments, where the composer has to sort through them and decide which to accept and reject. The idea of composing regularly is to practice this sorting process and become quicker at it over time. In other words, the more composing you do, the easier it is to find the ideas you'll want to keep. Inspiration comes with training.

I did some goal setting today using Aleks Srbinoski's Fulfilling Happiness (I composed the music for this program- to hear some: follow the link, scroll down and click "Sample 1"). It is overwhelming to discover how planning a few major outcomes for the near future can influence so many factors in the present. The main thing for me to keep checking is that the goals are achievable and the process of achieving them is enjoyable.

The most relevant goal to this blog is that I reach a point with the Britten arrangement where I can start seeking out people to perform it in July. I am thinking this point will be a complete movement of at least 10 mins in length. I want to compose more movements, but I figure if rehearsals begin earlier I will be able to uncover major problems and write more efficiently after developing a rapport with the players. I will be repeating this goal to my close friends so that they know come July whether I deserve my birthday drinks or not.

Piano fingers assembles bookshelf

If you needed any measure of how easy it is to assemble Officeworks' furniture, then I can say that I managed quite well today. It reminds me of the old joke that my dad often cites from his own OH&S class, about how his son thinks that Manual Handling is a spanish guitarist. Apart from the purchase of a new computer chair, the construction of the bookshelf was supposed to be the last step in my workspace optimisation; however, I only managed to squeeze my music books on there. There are still several physics textbooks, computer reference books and novels with no place to go. At least now I have some experience in the assembly of bookshelves to match the inevitability of me purchasing more books.

I must have made an impression at my first piano lesson, because Gail started giving me more work to do for next lesson before I even played a note today. I was glad that she decided to push me harder, because as I was practicing over the week I felt like I could have been learning more new material. Also, since I mentioned playing in Tetanus Rig, she has started pointing out where certain techniques can be applied to rock piano. She was very complimentary about my technique, which makes me more confident about my instincts towards what feels right while I'm practicing.

I think I am making progress with the Britten arrangement. The section I have been working on for the duration of this blog is very busy harmonically and dynamically. I reached the end of a kind of 4 bar arch tonight that I feel should be followed with something even more intense. I want to make sure that I get as much out of this section as possible before trying something more sparse or atmospheric. By that stage I will have three sections and most probably not be too bothered about the order in which they will appear.

Guitar fretboard workout

It has been almost a week since I last worked on the Britten arrangement; however, I have been participating in the creation of some new Tetanus Rig material. During these group writing sessions I have noticed the positive influence of piano lessons and composing by hand. I feel like I already have more of a grasp of the theory and a greater sense of the potential for note choices. It makes sense that composing and playing music more often is an effective way to study theory.

I spent about ten minutes figuring out what the Britten arrangement thus far would sound like. After convincing myself that it was okay, I wrote some more of the guitar chords with a vague idea of the direction that I wanted the melody to take. It is a familiar trait of the guitarist to strum some chords first and come up with a melody second. I feel the need to break away from this, although in a way I have already started with piano lessons and composing by hand. Already I am becoming much more aware of the actual notes on the guitar fretboard.

Patience - Brain power will increase with time

I had my first piano lesson with Gail this afternoon. We worked through two pieces from the Suzuki piano school book: The Happy Farmer by Robert Schumann (the one with syncopations I was talking about) and Hungarian Folk Song by Bela Bartok. She told me that mature students should practice two pieces a week, as only practicing one usually leads them to become fed up with it. I found that most of my attention was focused on where I was putting my fingers and I was concerned that I was training myself to memorise finger positions rather than actually read and play the music. She told me she was pushing me pretty hard by getting me to play the pieces start to finish, and that this can be a real brain strain for beginners. I learnt the C major scale with both hands going in the same direction to have the thumb-under technique ready for when I start learning harder pieces.

I almost completely rewrote the bar of the Britten arrangement that I spent all of the last composing session on. I must have been deliberating over the guitar part last time, because when I looked at what I had for the string quartet tonight it looked rushed. I referred to the actual melody of At the mid hour of night (as I do when in need of inspiration) and new parts for the 1st and 2nd violin and viola grew from there. I am still unsure about the length of this phrase and the broader structure of the piece. This is in part due to the fact that I can't hear what all the parts I've written sound like together. For the time being I'm going to continue composing bar by bar on paper, because I feel that if I keep at it then I'll gradually develop the brain power to hear all the parts in my head. This is probably a good time for me to pull out a fantastic book called Hearing and Writing Music by Ron Gorow. It contains many exercises for developing the ability to hear music in your head.

Mahler 8 - Love as the creator

I spent 40 mins composing a single bar of the Britten arrangement tonight. The main difficulty I faced was in picking it up from where I left it last time - about three quarters of the way through a phrase. I'm never exactly sure where a phrase should end; most times I probably end them prematurely. This isn't a major concern though, as these composing sessions are about getting all the ideas down and evaluating them later. You have to work hard to gain a wealth of material, whilst not worrying too much about how it will be shaped into the finished product. In terms of obtaining a finished product, it is useful to have a deadline to work towards. At this stage, the Britten arrangement isn't established well enough in my mind for me to think about a deadline. Once I spend more time manipulating the initial motives and phrases, a broader structure or outline for the piece might start to materialise.

I experienced some more Mahler played by Vladamir Ashkenazy, Sydney Symphony and several choirs and soloists at the Opera House last night. It was Mahler's Eighth Symphony, which is renowned for the hundreds of singers and musicians required to perform it. The choral parts were the highlight for me. I was really impressed with the choirs' precision and control. From the softest to loudest dynamics, their tone was always consistent and clear. I also intend to write a review on this performance, so I'll save any elaboration on the actual content and my reaction to it until then.

Piano lessons, Robert Schumann and syncopation

When I first picked up the manuscript paper with the Benjamin Britten arrangement on it tonight I noticed that I had composed 2 new bars without Finale. I was so tempted to hear them that I got up and started walking towards the computer to program them in. After taking a few steps (roughly halfway along on the journey from lounge room to bedroom) I realised how mundane and time-consuming that was and sat back down with guitar, pencil and paper. Good move, because I ended up breaking the time limit commandment again by continuing to write after my 40 mins was up. At that point I had just started a new bar of guitar and already knew what I wanted. I didn't trust myself to remember it without writing it down.

I have been thinking a lot about the melodic line of each instrument and trying to have less movement over time. I think what I am doing is mainly homophonic because the guitar is involved and I like lots of chord changes, but the guitar is now getting closer to four-part harmony than the usual tugging on the neck with barre chords. I've also picked up a few new chords from playing Bach.

I'm starting piano lessons next week! This is something I've wanted to do for a while, but I only recently thought to ask a great piano player that I already know. I told her that I want to learn classical piano and that all I can do at the moment is play bass in the left hand and chords in the right. To get the whole two hand thing working we're going to start with scales and the pieces in the Suzuki books. I had a look at volume 2 earlier and the highlight was a piece by Schumann. His use of syncopation is instantly recognisable. They come out gentle and slippery compared to the more measured, jarring syncopations of Stravinsky. The staggered moments at the start of the Britten arrangement that I mentioned in my first post have been a constant source of inspiration for new material. I hope that my syncopations come out as a pleasant suprise when they are eventually played.

Mahler review and recount writing

I’m yet again faced with the trap of having too many ideas at once and not acting on any of them. It isn’t really a trap anymore, given that I know it’s there. Ugh, the internet is not coping with my mass video uploading, so this entry is being created offline. This I can cope with. Computer/internet power is a much lower priority than a more comfortable workspace. I’ve had plans for my workspace for a few months now. If I had gotten started on it sooner, it probably wouldn’t need as much work as it does now. There’s no video blog until I start looking a bit less sloppy.

I experienced a live orchestra for the first time last Thursday and again on Saturday. During both I witnessed Vladamir Ashkenazy and Sydney Symphony fully realise the tsunami pinnacle of Mahler’s First Symphony. I have been trying to write a review of these concerts over the last two nights, but words escape me. I have so many ideas about the concerts. Too many, you see. I want to write an essay, not a review. Maybe I’ll have the sense to just write about what happened when I pick up the pen again tomorrow.

Last night I wrote a recount of my visit to Wollongong’s shopping centre. This proved to be a good way to get material for songs and those other outlets for dark, private and depraved thoughts. I love hearing those kinds of thoughts that other people have, but I don’t trust any expressed through “becoming a fan” on Facebook. Even ironically becoming fans of things is getting old. C’mon guys, sign out and draw more attention to yourself.

Manuscript paper a better composition tool

I did some composing tonight after a five day break. I have been spending a lot of time with family dealing with the death of my pop. It is the first time something tragic has brought my mum's side of the family together and in a way we are lucky for that. My pop was an amazing man and was very proud of his family. We had such a good relationship and though that makes this a very difficult time, it also reaffirms faith and hope for myself and others in the future. This amazing urge towards perseverance has been brilliantly demonstrated to me by my family during this time and I feel like I have gained courage just from learning more about them and their history. My aunty, Helen O'Keefe Crehan has created an amazing DVD tribute for the funeral tomorrow. I strongly believe that being constructive and creative during difficult times is important and takes courage. Expressing yourself takes courage, but it is so worth it because it strengthens your connection with other people. She also created a DVD for nanna and pop's 60th wedding anniversary that can be viewed on youtube if you are interested in learning some of the history.

I decided to stop composing on the computer and get the pencil and paper out for tonight's session. During the 40 mins I copied down the first bar of a new section from the computer screen and composed the second bar! I think I will get quicker at it over time. My biggest problem with Finale was that I would be too tempted to guess what notes could come next, rather than think them through. It can do so much for your musicianship to use your instrument, voice and handwriting as the composing tools.

Finding flow in the songwriting process

I went well over 40 mins writing and rewriting the poem about my grandfather. The rewriting was on the stuff I'd come up with over the last couple of days. I decided to change it so that it featured more third person and the verse structure was simpler. I think I'm just about finished. I didn't expect to get to this stage tonight, but I got on a role and ended up doing about 80 mins worth of work. The key was to start with a vague concept of what each verse was going to be about and how they would colour the refrain: "there's always something to leave behind." Then, once I had established what the rhyming pattern was, it all poured out of me.

I decided to try and complete the last verse tomorrow. It will have a couple of extra lines to give emphasis to the twist on the refrain. In the first four verses, the refrain "...leave behind" refers to the inevitability of moving away from things in life, or being moved away from. In the last verse I want the refrain to refer to what you leave behind in death being the consolation.

I am not going to broadcast this poem over the internet or by any other means because it is written for a specific occasion and there are some things that should be kept as a one off. It is for my family, not for peer review. I just wanted to share my breakthrough regarding the actual writing process and am pleased to say that I will be writing words in addition to music more often. Put Pat Pattison's Writing Better Lyrics on your shopping list. It will show you a lot.

Heaven on Earth

The acoustic metal composed yesterday sounded dark and cold on the electrics at the Tetanus Rig jam this evening. The addition of Sally Wiggins' melodic drums got us fired up to try and write more as a group. What I said about the lack of confidence in material written on electrics wasn't an issue tonight, because all three of us seemed to be taking the sensible creative step of "let's keep moving and edit everything later." When there's a week between jam sessions, there can be a concern about not remembering how to play the stuff we worked so hard to come up with. I don't find this to be such a big deal when composing more regularly though, because I am just as content to be coming up with something else.

I wrote some more for the poem about my grandfather. It has distracted me from my folk song arrangement, but that can wait. I do have to stop myself from editing it as I go, because it is the difference between getting stuck on one line and writing five verses. I wasn't too worried about my clunky verses tonight as I know I can edit them later. I was just concerned that it might be too philosophical and self-indulgent. I decided to stop after 20 mins and put it away until tomorrow.

I was thinking about Christian heaven just before and wondered how well equipped a believer is for what happens before death? I know that Christianity has some worthwhile things to say about living with others on Earth, but that largely gets overshadowed by its answer to the BIG QUESTION. I would like to think that in the end life just slips away one loving memory at a time. That you could catch a whiff of every season and every object of your affection one last time before saying goodnight.

Acoustic metal and songwriting ideas

Songwriter's songwriter Nick Wilson and I had a much needed writing session on the acoustics this afternoon. I felt like we were challenging ourselves with the parts we were coming up with. I am looking forward to testing these out on the electrics at the Tetanus Rig jam tomorrow. The reason we prefer to write the guitar and bass parts acoustically is because it allows us to squeeze more musical arrangement out of a song's lyrics and melodies. Many times we have left a jam on the electrics unsure of the bogan riffs or arpeggiated chords that we have come up with. Anything that compromises the importance of structure or development over repetition will get junked.

Group writing and collaboration can also be a strange mix of the spontaneous and the deliberate. I often say that improvising in a group really exposes a musician's ability and breadth in listening. This is even more true for group composition because there is a higher level of mental engagement required. This is the essence of flow (which I mentioned in the previous post), where an individual's strengths are being used to overcome a challenging task. The sensation of losing track of time is one you often get from being in a state of flow [1]. Our writing session today suprisingly lasted roughly two hours.

Tonight I dedicated my 40 mins composing time to lyrics and it went better than I anticipated. I am trying to write a reflection of my grandfather's life and how much he means to all of his family. For a while I have had a vague idea of the verses describing different stages of life, where they all colour the refrain: "there's always something to leave behind" in different ways. I was happy with the ideas I came up with for two verses tonight, even though I didn't quite nail the word choices or the rhythm. One of the biggest things I've learnt is that it is important to get the ideas down first and then polish them later, rather than getting stuck and labouring over one line before giving up entirely [2].

I mentioned a couple of ideas that I must attribute to the following:

1. Sydney Psychologist Aleks Srbinoski's program Fulfilling Happiness (I composed the music in this program. Visit http://www.fulfillinghappiness.com/ and scroll down to the "Sample 1" link to hear some of it)
2. Pat Pattison's Writing Better Lyrics - http://www.patpattison.com/home/

Pitch lessons and Bach

I finally got to composing at around 10.30pm this evening, after returning from my first rehearsal with the Illawarra Choral Society for the year. We began hectic preparations for a performance of Bach's Jesu, Priceless Treasure and some of the chorales from his St. Matthew Passion. I also started learning some Bach pieces on classical guitar at my first lesson back this year. Why all this Bach? I see it as an important part of my musical education. What better way to learn about four-part harmony and the twelve-tone system than to analyse a Bach score? I haven't done any analysing yet, but already I am suprised with how my sight reading has improved from singing Bach tonight.

I have decided to dedicate 40 mins a day to composing. This might not seem like much, but if I didn't do this I would compose for 3 hours one day and none the next. Self-discipline has to take precedence over the delights and dangers of creative flow ("flow" is a psychological concept that is worth looking up). I didn't make much progress tonight. I got stuck on trying to work out the dynamics of one bar and when I finally got to composing the notes for the next one, my time was up and I had to force myself to stop.

I had some thoughts while listening to Mahler's 5th today. I wondered if his dramatic genius had something to do with his unique ability to synthesise vastly opposing themes and motives, so that the rivalry between them became the foundation for a movement. This could be an idea to keep in mind for both the overall structure of a piece and the orchestration from bar to bar; however, I don't think it works without having an advanced understanding of texture and detail. I have the feeling this ties in closely with visual arts as well.

Composition Diary

I have created this blog to document the thoughts and actions involved in creating my music. On the one hand, this is a feeble attempt at gaining self-discipline and on the other, a way to keep track of music composition techniques that I might usually take for granted. Hopefully this is a worthwhile resource for other musicians as well, particularly those who may be interested in performing my music or simply learning more about music composition.

During December last year I began working on an instrumental interpretation of At the mid hour of night, which I came to know through Benjamin Britten's version from Vol. 4 ('Moore's Irish Melodies') of his Folksong arrangements. The song is sung from the perspective of someone who is remembering and trying to recapture the experiences they shared with a lover who has passed. The mood of the music and the text is regretful, but contemplative. The persona finds solace in the midnight sky and in song (the respective subjects of the two verses), as these things allow him/her to still feel connected to their lover.

My arrangement is for two classical guitars and string quartet. The dynamics are always a major concerrn when writing for classical guitars, as their sound tends to get drowned out by most other orchestral instruments. Being a guitarist myself, I naturally want the guitars to be a prominent element of the work. In order to achieve the correct balance I have to use the string quartet sparingly, so that the guitars have a chance to seep through the cracks of the entire instrumental mass. When I say sparingly, I don't mean to turn any string players off this piece. Every instrument is important to me and the players should all get their turn in the spotlight. I have been searching through the scores of composers such as Mahler and Debussy in the hope that their amazing treatment of the string section might rub off on me. Maybe delicately is a better word than sparingly. I can work with that.

My starting point was at lifting the 9/8 time signature and Eb major key signature from Britten's arrangement. Since then I've just freely composed little bits here and there, only thinking about the actual melody when in need of some inspiration. My main focus has been on instrumental colour, rhythm and of course, dynamics. For the opening (see excerpt below), I tried to recreate the celestial mood of the first verse's text with the instruments. The second guitar plays harmonics, while the first guitar, viola and cello pluck around an Eb major chord. The rhythmic and dynamic changes in the first guitar part create the effect of a stumbling start to a waltz-like dance. In fact, I like the idea that the memory of this funny dance incident could be what takes the persona's mind back to their beloved.

Fig 1: Opening bars of At the mid hour of night arrangement