I have finished scoring a short film by a graduate of the Tisch School of the Arts – Ann Orrin. Those of you who have followed my musical path for a while will immediately recognize a dramatic shift in my compositional language. Oh, who are we kidding with this cautious statement? This soundtrack is completely nuts, and it was exactly my goal!
I was drawn to Ann’s film precisely because of its haphazard, bizarre nature. Mister Jung Stuffed ventures out into the territory of dreams and the collage of the surreal. There is no plot or logic, only the different layers of the subconscious.
“Every work comes into being in the same way as the cosmos – by means of catastrophes… The creation of the work of art is the creation of the world.” – Vasily Kandinsky
As I walked around the Guggenheim Museum today feeding my soul on the paintings of Vasily Kandinsky, I experienced once again the unmistakable feeling of loss that haunts me from time to time. I sometimes feel that I was born about seventy-five years or so too late, as I instinctively gravitate toward works of art created in the first half of the 20th century. I wish I were a contemporary of such inspiring painters as Vasily Kandinsky, Franz Marc, and Paul Klee, and composers like Igor Stravinsky, Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel, Bela Bartok, or Arnold Schoenberg.
What draws me to each one of them is the freedom of their artistic expression tempered by the principles of classic form resulting in some uniquely beautiful works of art. It seems to me that even after the horrors of World War I, as the artists pushed the boundaries of conservative expectations, there was a certain excitement and optimism in the air, as the expressionist movement in music paralleled its influence on paintings, reaching deeper into the personal expression, the spiritual, and the transcendent (lookup Scriabin’s Prometheus and synesthesia to fuel your thoughts). This trajectory was clearly seen in the Kandinsky exhibit, as the chronological sequence of artwork followed his earlier representative paintings gradually giving way to more figurative, and finally to full abstraction.
To Kandinsky abstraction was the holy grail of the artist. He argued that the abstraction (absolute, nonrepresentational art) is not counterintuitive to the natural order, but rather that it is the very essence of reality, as everything in nature is original and not derivative or representational of something else.
When I look at Kandinsky’s paintings, I don’t feel that I am deprived of seeing a landscape, or an inanimate object, or someone’s portrait. Instead, I see a thirst for life, beauty, spirituality. I sense excitement or repose. Sometimes I hear music or simply become overwhelmed to the point of tears when a verbal expression seems futile.
Kandinsky’s principles of proportion and design are a refreshing mix of order and disarray. His color palette is bursting with passion and energy. His pairing of fully saturated orange and blue with purples is unlike anything I have ever seen before. No computer monitor and no book reproduction can ever replace seeing these color combinations in person.
Speaking of loss again, I thought today about the fate of many artists who found themselves in Germany as Adolf Hitler came to power. His dictatorship stretched not only to enforcing his vision of the new Germany as it related to his political, economical, and ethnic ideas, but he also took it upon himself to decide what artistic expressions would be favored and which would be eradicated. The famous Bauhaus school of design, of which Kandinsky was a part at the time, was labeled as “un-German” and was forced to close, causing many influential artists to flee Germany.
I wondered what trajectory would the European art have followed if it were allowed to thrive in Germany as it had for centuries before. What other artistic trends would have sprung out of expressionism? What artists would have worked together and influenced one another?
Art is a dangerous business to be in. You only paint, or write a symphony, or a poem, or design a building, but in reality you create the world around you.
I recently finished scoring a short film by Josiah Signor – Homecoming. I attempted to illustrate the emotions of this intimate and moving film with the simple instrumentation of clarinet, viola, cello, piano, harp, and percussion.
The enclosed is a scene from the 1932 film “Freaks” I scored recently. Those of you who follow my whereabouts might know that I am currently studying scoring for film and multimedia at the New York University. Expect more projects to be posted here soon.
There are never enough hours in the day for me to do everything I want to do. This summer I am torn between composition, painting, and the flute. I have been devoting more time to flute lately, bringing my chops up to speed for upcoming auditions. I hope to connect with other musicians in New York and New Jersey this fall in chamber and orchestral settings.
Please click on the above link to hear my rendition of one of my favorite pieces in flute literature – Karl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s Sonata in A minor for flute alone. This sonata inspired a poem I wrote last year entitled Beautiful is the Mention of Your Name which I am reprinting here.
Beautiful is the mention of your name
Lovely is the shape of its sounds
But were it not for the language
My lips would call upon it still
With velvety timbres of golden sunrises
And soft whispers of hisses and shimmers
With every breath the muse soars
On swirling currents of warm air
The fingers tremble and thirst
For a touch of the sacred mystery
A glimpse of your longing
That fills my breast
From beyond the grave
And springs up life and desire
Say not that you love me
For love is a torment of poets
But shelter me under the weeping arches
That you may weep through me
And wrap me in strings of pearl butterflies
That I might unravel your passion
Fill me to overflowing
Play me to overfilling
Beautiful is the mention of your name
Karl Philipp Emanuel
“Color is the power which directly influences the soul. Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the hammers, the soul is the piano with the strings. The artist is the hand which plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.” – Vasily Kandinsky
She is looking for crumbs of him
At the table they sat
That day she could not eat
A nauseous heart
Is a sign of a different
Kind of hunger
One you cannot stuff
With a seven-layer
Lasagna of self-denial
This past winter I was invited by a fellow composer and my former teacher James R. Carlson to participate in the annual Art Moves, a collaboration of original art, music, and dance inspired by artwork at the Knoxville Museum of Art.
I was commissioned to compose music celebrating A Visionary Journey in Glass exhibit by the world-renown glass artist Josh Simpson. I collaborated with choreographer Mike Bensey, Momentum Dance Lab, and videographer Ren Cummings and composed a soundtrack to a multimedia presentation involving live dancers and video, entitled Glass.
This project was a refreshing departure from composing for acoustic instruments, as I decided to focus entirely on synthesized sound linked to the video. I was free to explore not only new harmonies, but also new timbres.
The sonic palette of my composition resembles sounds heard during the process of glass making; the sizzling of the furnace, the bright eerie sounds of thin goblets, and the blowing of air. The music is upbeat, driving to a climax with a steadily pounding drum sequence.
The dancers on the stage spin in circles individually and then meet together to form a sphere imitating the way in which Josh Simpson creates his glass “planets.” The music transitions to a slower and more reflective section brought on by the sound of a cooling rain while the glass and the dancers are stretched and moulded through a series of breathy sounds in the music. The piece ends with the return of the furnace sounds and upbeat drum sequences.
In my poem entitled Music Is I describe music as “the dance of the soul.” I draw on that metaphor quite often when I compose and sometimes when I listen to music that moves me. So when I had the opportunity to compose a soundtrack for a dance company, I did not hesitate. I found the entire experience, from initial conceptual talks, through composition, rehearsals, and performance to be very rewarding and inspiring, and I hope to collaborate with other artists on multimedia presentations in the future.
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Photography by Johnny Newman
Plush velvet cottonwheat
Strands of mauve and milk
In snug pleats enveloping
Faded gray wooing
Fond weave of yarn
Shelter petals rust
Safely closely holding
Folding and unfolding
Winter’s hush
Spring’s rush
Braided surrender
Warmth suspended
Wool sheets
Silk dreams
Barely bed of feathers
Layers upon layers
Shawls in fringes wild
Turn around
Linen sleeves
Smooth sweeps
Press with flare
Wash with care
Visible
Untouchable
Used to carry wind in his pockets
The call of the forests
Chirped in his ears
No more
Found strangled in his sleep
Smothered he was
By a crafty hand
She promised him
Ever after
Happily she poisoned
With infectious sameness
Day in day out
Two-car garage
Till death do us part
All the bison he would hunt
All the falcons he would fly
Alas he only cowered away
From incessant slaughter
Of passive aggressive hacking
At the cadaver of his
Bloody soul
Bloody hell of self-denial
She clawed out his vision
With her French manicure
And sucked out his will
With Kool-aid drama of
Beautiful Living
Feasts of the mind
Rawness of the heart
Taken hostage
Faithfully she served
Starvation by gourmet preoccupation
Pear in autumn
Cellulite in springtime
Lethal injections
Of exotic inebriants
Numbed
Stabbings of dull words
Mountain peaks crumbling
North Poles thawing
Stranded he was
By blizzards of mortgages
Braces, dues, and social graces
Wildness of the soul
Now in full remission
Thanks to advancements in
Channel subscription
Keep him from
Rudely blowing up
His brains
On patented prescription
Delay
Death by settling down
I am very excited to introduce my new composition for chamber orchestra entitled Three Laments of Heloise. The Laments were inspired by the Letters of Abelard and Heloise I read this spring. I was deeply moved by the story, especially the character of Heloise.
Although the book is frequently marketed as a forbidden love affair between a nun and a monk, I found it to be quite inaccurate as Abelard and Heloise both entered monastic life only after they were married and consequently separated.
I don’t want to divulge too much of the story line in case you might want to trace it yourself. Suffice it to say that yes, in Abelard’s Historia calamitatum and couple of Heloise’s letters the passion rages on freely, but overall the story centers around a crushing loss, self-denial, sacrifice, and conformity to the standards of medieval society.
The first movement of my composition entitled Queens Envied Me My Joys is Heloise’s recollection of early days with Abelard. “Every wife, every young girl desired you in absence and was on fire in your presence”, writes Heloise. “The pleasures of lovers which we shared have been too sweet… They are always there before my eyes, bringing with them awakened longings…”
The second movement entitled If Not With You, My Heart Is Nowhere, expresses Heloise’s sense of abandonment by her lover. She writes to him: “My heart was not in me but with you, and now, even more, if it is not with you it is nowhere; truly, without you I cannot exist.”
The third movement, My Most Wretched Soul gives voice to Heloise’s continued struggle with her loss and the reality of the convent life. She does not see herself as a servant of God, but rather a hypocrite who remains pious on the outside and rages inwardly. “Of all wretched women I am the most wretched, and amongst the unhappy I am unhappiest.” “How can it be called repentance for sins, however great the mortification of the flesh, if the mind still retains the will to sin and is on fire with its old desires?”
I have orchestrated the Laments for chamber orchestra consisting of a flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, tambourine, drum, and strings. Modal scales and dance sequences give them a Renaissance feel. Music theory students might appreciate the fact that the unifying element of the three movements is the interval of the 7th which appears very frequently in melodic and harmonic gestures and creates a feeling of ambiguity and of a lack of resolution.
For now I am enclosing only MIDI realizations of the score, but the piece is scheduled to be premiered by the University of Tennessee Contemporary Music Ensemble on April 19 and another performance will take place on April 23 under the direction of Rachel Grubb.
Silence on the verge
Is weightier than
Oceans of words
Air as thick as
A snow cloud
Ready to burst
Holding her breath
In expectation
Almost
Nearly
Not yet
Vibrant
Sweet fever rising
To delirium of
Being
Long after we are gone
They will unearth our bones
From beneath warm glaciers
Or cold ashes of extinct volcanoes
They will store our frail artifacts
In hermetic containers
And date them
Somewhere between
Pre and Post
With an acceptable margin of error
We will be a topic
Of someone’s dissertation
They will chart our journeys
Outline our courage
Measure our grasp
And explain our fears
Then we will finally know
Why we were
The way we were
(Samples from a live performance by Jeffrey St. John Sherwood, clarinet and Melony Maness, piano, March 29, 2009.)
I am happy to unveil Two Moods – my latest composition for clarinet and piano, written for clarinetist Jeffrey St John Sherwood.
Jeffrey and I discussed collaboration on a piece as early as spring of 2007, but because of time constraints and other projects I was involved in, it wasn’t until last November that the idea for the composition began to emerge.
I anticipated couple of weeks of uninterrupted writing time in December and I remember telling Jeffrey that the time has finally come because I was beginning to “hear things.” I had a sudden rush of ideas. I improvised on the piano and scribbled on the whiteboard in my studio, then jotted some runs and adjectives on staff paper.
But before I committed to any of them I really wanted to hear Jeffrey’s take on the piece. Jeffrey proved to be rather undemanding and told me that he trusted my judgment. His only request was that I don’t write academic “think” music. He wanted “mood” and “feel” music. This, of course, was music to my ears (pun intended).
My initial instincts were on target. I decided to explore two contrasting moods. Thus, the first movement entitled Haunted illustrates an eery, suspenseful feeling, intertwined with passages of sheer panic and terror. I recalled my childhood struggle with the fear of darkness and I wanted to confront those kinds of cold-sweat fears in my music. Haunted takes a few unexpected turns and is bound to “freak out” those who enjoy the lyrical aspect of my compositions.
Wind Chimes, if one can brave through Haunted, brings the listener to the other side of the emotional spectrum. In this movement I wanted to portray a feeling of freedom, release, and beauty. Perhaps I owe the inspiration to the wind chimes on my deck, which have been a faithful companion to my writing since last fall. Somehow I had managed to write several other pieces ignoring their gentle rattle, but this time the chimes finally found their voice in the abundance of the pentatonic melodic and harmonic figures in the movement.
The sonic palette of my composition resembles sounds heard during the process of glass making; the sizzling of the furnace, the bright eerie sounds of thin goblets, and the blowing of air. The music is upbeat, driving to a climax with a steadily pounding drum sequence. 
In my poem entitled 
