Island

About two years ago, my friend Michelle Martinez and I took a day trip up to a beach in north Seattle, and had long deep conversations about love, relationships, and culture.  Somewhere along the beach, we got around to discussing writing songs together.

Later on that day, high on sunshine and Indian food, we took a look at a piece that I was working on, "Theme and Variations", of which I already completed the first variation and intended to write three more.  Using the pre-existing melody as counterpoint, and the harmonic structure with some changes to the form, we started to add a vocal melody with original lyrics.

It was amazing how quickly everything came together, once we started on the idea of telling the story about her past relationship with a woman who was distant and controlling, like an island surrounded by fast currents.  The music happened just as fast, and we completed the piece in less than two hours.

Putting it together afterwards turned out to be more difficult.  I had only just started learning how to mix and master recordings in Logic Pro X, and Michelle was just starting out learning recording techniques.  We experimented with different microphones, changing the key, and adding compression, but ultimately I was never completely satisfied with the final product.

About a month ago, Michelle suggested that we take another look at it, try re-recording and mixing the piece.  This time, everything came together pretty easily, and finally I'm proud to present what we created together.

Hub New Music

In a small, brick room resembling a vault in Seattle's lost corners of Capitol Hill, I joined an audience of maybe 15 persons for a performance of new music by mixed ensemble "Hub New Music".  As part of "Spontaneous Combustion"s mid-winter 3-week program, the group was invited with Michael Avitabile on flute, Jesse Christensen on Cello, David Dziardziel on Clarinet, and Zenas Hsu on violin.    It was a very intimate venue in an almost dead-space, where each instrument could be heard quite clearly.

The first piece, David Drexler's "Forgotten at Dawn", a score selected for the Spontaneous Combustion last year's call for scores, made good use of various string & cello techniques, with clear battuto col legion and on-bridge playing blended with the other instruments which swapped unison notes for a "who's got it this time" effect.  The Ensemble came together with a hollow balance, strings complementing winds and vice versa, with players who have been playing together long enough to resonate as a cohesive whole.

The second set, by Northwest composer Laura Kaminsky, depicted scenes from the Colorado Rocky Mountains, punctuated by the interruption of 9/11, which colored the set for the composer mid-through conception.  While there were some nice effects, I found myself disagreeing with the composer's endings; namely, that she either ended a piece of the set before I felt the development reached its peek, or adding a snippet where I felt the ending would be more effective.  For example, "Slate Riverbed" finished with a wholesome partnership of cello and clarinet, but where the mood and timing of clarinet would have been a satisfying ending, the composer chose to add a couple of extra notes in the cello that felt tacked on.  Furthermore, while "Boulders/Avalanche" had a very effective, tumbling beginning with gritty cello arpeggios, it recapped this thematic element near the end with none of satisfaction, nor even conclusion.  While I respect the composition and its method, I could not fully agree with its all the elements of its execution.

Robert Honstein's "Soul House", while drawing from a hum-drum programmatic subject, had some very satisfying and melodic pieces in the set.  For a world premiere of only 15 people in attendance, I thought it deserved a bigger audience.  Indeed, the conclusion of the first, "Bay Window", with its violin and cello harmonic arpeggios in varying speeds, drew goosebumps from my arms.  "Stairs" consisted of rising scales and major thirds for a whole tone series, bouncing, which was fun and creative.  I disagreed with "Alcove", with its static unison and pizzicato, which I felt lead nowhere, but my friend Jacob actually preferred this piece over the others.  "Hallway" was very loud and noisy - perhaps too much so for the small, dead interior.  I felt similarly about rising and falling "Driveway, which seemed to have little purpose though it had more motion than the former.  "Landing" felt like a technical study more than anything else.

"Cooper Beach", on the other hand, with a lovely 3rd ostinato passed from violin to flute to clarinet, had much harmonic purpose, with full but not cliche chords which pulled towards a goal.  The final piece, "Secret Place", started with a rising melody similar to "Ave Maria", and proceeded in a very carol-is set of unwinding chords.  While I agreed with the fluid harmonics, which kept returning to the melodic center, I cringed at the end.  As the violin rose in the melody to the highest pitch-perfect notes of the register, I felt deeply that it needed to decline in pitch to balance the obvious harmonics of the rest of the piece.  Unfortunately, it merely continued to rise to a conclusive tonic at the very top of the range of the violin, which felt so cliche that I thought it was a pity.

I wish "Hub New Music" all the best, and I hope to see them come to Seattle again in the future.

Recording 11/28/17

In October and November, I was asked to compose an original soundtrack for David Fowler's 40-minute movie "Lean On Me".  Eight of the tracks were programmed into MIDI in Logic Pro X; however, I chose two especially sensitive pieces to be recorded by soprano Achil Obenza, and cellist Ash.

We recorded together at Jack Straw Productions ( http://www.jackstraw.org ) in the University District in Seattle on November 28th.  It was a bit of a challenge, since due to Achil's illness and Ash's surgery immediately preceding the recording session, none of us had been able to rehearse together except by sending one another recordings of us playing our solo parts for the other to practice to.  Nonetheless, both of them were troopers, and we managed to get some really beautiful recordings.

Below are "Darryl" (track 6) and "Good Friend" (track 7).

Soundscape

Tonight, I had an existential crisis.

I think every artist has to go through these on a regular basis.

Somehow this happened as a result, and I won't lie, I'm rather proud of it.

Your Ma Must Be Proud 2017

In March, I had the privilege to debut two original compositions at the "Your Ma Must Be Proud" event, hosted by the Seattle Symphony Ushers.

My friend Janice Robinette, who wrote the poem "Bloodstones", asked me to write accompanying piano music for the poem.  In addition, I debuted "Theme Variation Number 3", which was recorded last year.

Here is the full program below:

48 Hour Film Festival 2017

In July, I had the privilege of participating in the 48 Hour Film Festival, as part of Team Estrogen.

As the name may suggest, the team was comprised entirely of women.  In addition to producers Michelle Shadday and Amanda Drewniak, our writer/director was the talented Christina Perry, our photographer was Erica Stauffer, and our editor was Whitney Bennett.  Actresses Yvonne Velez, Elyse Kleidon and Sunga Rose filled out the ranks.

We wrote, filmed and edited the entire 7-minute move on site at Sandra Geldenhuys-Scragg's beautiful residence in West Seattle, overlooking the Sound and Mount Rainier.

Below is the fruit of our labor, a fun 48 hour adventure in film making.

The Four Seasons at the Seattle Symphony

There are a few pieces of classical music which are, unfortunately, so overplayed as to become jokes to roll one's eyes at.  For example, part of the reason why I still struggle with Beethoven is because everyone knows Für Elise, the Moonlight Sonata (movement 1), and his illustrious Ninth Symphony (choral section of fourth movement).  I have become increasingly sick of them, if for no other reason than because every amateur on the face of the planet will attempt, to a greater or more likely lesser degree of success, to play (read: butcher) select fragments of these pieces.

Notice how the 'Hammerklavier' never caught on, by the way.

Another reason why some pieces become nauseating to me is because they are used freely to caricature or conjure the atmosphere of a particular situation or time period.  Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' for strings is a classic example of creating a courtly essence for anywhere from the 17th to the 19th centuries.  Aside from the point that clearly Vivaldi didn't live for 300 years, the sheer proliferation of uses of this set of works has trained me to quickly tune out.  This is a shame, because the four sets are strikingly original and exquisitely constructed.  It has been, in fact, more than a decade since I last purposefully listened to any of it.

So my presence at the Seattle Symphony's 'Four Seasons' program on the evening of December 29th was more of a fluke than anything else: I accepted a free ticket from a friend, and I have to admit that this was the first concert in quite a while that I have enjoyed from beginning to end - one that inspired me, filled me with wonder, and had me on the edge of my seat the entire time.

Vivaldi's work in this program is interspersed with another set of "Four Seasons" by 20th century Argentine composer Astor Piazzola, written as a set of four tangos, more or less actually danceable. In addition to providing the relief necessary for a full set of Vivaldi, this arrangement allows the soloists to rest and give their best performance, while directing the attention of the audience back and forth between a crisp aural experience and a sultry visual experience.

The first section, "Spring" of the Vivaldi began with a petite young woman on the solo violin, backed up with a compact string orchestra of classical dimensions.  As soon as she started to play, my thoughts were "This is so fresh!" and "Her baroque is just sublime."  With fluid bowing and flawless technique, crystal clear straight tones and brilliant, appropriately placed trills, combined with the energy of youth, I thought to myself that surely this young woman was channeling the spirit of young Hillary Hahn.

As the section ended, my companion turned to me and made some comment about "Simone Porter".  I did a double-take, scoured the program.  "That's Simone Porter?!"  Indeed, while I have heard of this rising star, I hadn't yet heard the real article.  And I still had three more sections of the Vivaldi to enjoy.

Piazolla's tango set began with "Summer", with SSO's Elisa Barston on solo violin.  She began to play a twisted dance, glimpses of the Vivaldi creeping in to comic effect.  In a few minutes, it became obvious that this performance wasn't going to be left to the instrumentalists alone.  With dramatic lighting from hard right and left, creating dark profiles, two dancers strode onto stage and began a typical Argentine tango.  It did not remain "typical" for long - as the music dictated, their dance became more and more flamboyant, with strong ballet influence demonstrated in the full jeté lifts and delicate arm placements of the female dancer.  

Thus set the stage, so to speak.  The remaining sections of the program unlaced the stays of the first two, opening up into more profound musicality, more sensual dance, going from the conventional to the abstract, step by step.  

With Vivaldi's "Summer", the Presto section opens into dizzyingly fast string crossing demanded of the soloist, and just as fast tremolos of the rest of the strings, to signify the onset of a summer storm.  Piazolla's answer with "Autumn" begins with the soloist bowing behind the bridge, evoking eerie screeches.  As the violin and the first cello intertwined their notes, the dancers began to intertwine themselves, with the male throwing his partner across the floor on her back, then coming down over her supine body in a passionate display of sensuality.  Lest the audience become altogether too uncomfortable, the section closed out the first half of the program.

After intermission and possibly cold showers backstage, Vivaldi's stately "Autumn" began.  The second movement was to me the most impressive of any in the program, with its sheer lack of virtuosity.  The low strings began in a sibilant murmur, building as the other sections joined in an unearthly groan.  (Here, I must complain, the harpsichord joined in with its usual lack of dynamic tact and rather spoiled the effect).  In full measures, gently evolving harmonies and evanescent top melodies from the soloists unwound note by note.  The third movement, by contrast, opened into a fun dance, punctuated with a short and heartbreaking B section as solo violin and cello again embraced each other's voices.

Piazolla's naked "Winter" section followed - easily the most melodically conventional of all four movements.  The dancers came in barefoot, no longer quite tango-ing, with bold modern dance evoking the desperation to leave and the necessity to stay.  Tension unwound in a very different way in this movement, as Ms. Barston dove into an impossibly long series of double-bowed intervals.

Naturally Vivaldi's vivid "Winter" followed, with its tell-tale fiery eight-note motive in all strings beginning unison and then unfolding into a chase.  I was struck for the first time by how much this section foreshadows 20th century harmony and techniques.  No longer wed to the rules of 18th century harmony, Vivaldi's full mastery of the strings is unveiled here.  Its minimalist short-bowing and atonality proved there was no need for 200 more years to play out before these techniques could be explored.  In a rather uncharacteristic tone, the third movement of "Winter" ends in a dark minor.

Finally, Piazolla's "Spring" introduces almost pure tango-style music, but the dancers, as they enter, seem to have little interest in such a dance.  Instead, they pick up a 30-foot length of virginal white gauzy fabric, tossing it in the air, wrapping themselves around it - evocative of flower petals or a veil?  Is it the beginning of a romance...or the ghost of love past?  It is left to the audience to decide.  

My final question at the end of the night was, "Who is the first cellist tonight?"  He shared some of the most exquisite moments with the leading ladies, pulling straining emotion into the darkest moments.  

Overall, this was the most balanced and best executed performance I've seen at Benaroya Hall in over a year.  The dancers were absolutely on-point.  All of the string players played as one.  The program was sensational.  I am eagerly looking forward to hearing more of Simone Porter's performances in the future.  

And best of all, perhaps, I do not dread Vivaldi so much as I did at the beginning of the evening.