Composer, flutist, professor, and close friend Mark Carlson is celebrating 20 years of presenting chamber music concerts in the Los Angeles area. The group is called Pacific Serenades and they pride themselves, and have been awarded two ASCAP grants for adventuresome programming, in commissioning a new composiition for every concert. Mark was the first in the LA area (possibly the country) to name each concert, a trend now copied by the LA Philharmonic as well as the LA Master Chorale.
Every season, Mark writes a welcome to our season statement to his subscribers. Today, I’d like to share his statement for his 20th season.
• • •
For many years, I’ve believed that the best hope for music—not just classical music, but jazz, Broadway, rock, etc.—lay in composers (and yes, song writers are composers, too) creating some kind of synthesis of the kinds of music they love.
That came to me in several waves. First of all, when I was a grad students at UCLA back in the 70s, it dawned on me how much “non-classical” music I loved and how all of it was automatically excluded from what was snobbishly called “art music.” I realized how much I loved American music: the songs that we now refer to as the Great American Songbook, folk music, jazz, the popular music I came of age to in the late 60s. One epiphany came to me (admittedly during a marijuana moment, but no less valid because of that) when my housemates and I were listening to an LP called, “Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Duke Ellington Songbook.” As if hit by a bolt of lightening, I thought, “These are as much art songs as Schumann and Schubert songs are,” and I became determined to include some aspect of my American-music roots in all of my music from that point on.
Besides that, my most interesting composition students at UCLA in the late 80s and early 90s were those who came into college with strong backgrounds in pop or jazz or rock, and they had no intention of abandoning their roots. They were, however, entirely willing to absorb all manner of classical music. To me, this seemed a strong indication of an ongoing healing process for music, and from what I can see today, it has born fruit in all kinds of music being not only more beautiful and more affecting, but also better written.
So the Pacific Serenades “manifesto” (below) has roots that go way back for me. And it has also been a running undercurrent in Pacific Serenades over the years, as many of our commissioned composers have incorporated various “non-classical” sources into their own so-called classical styles.
Somewhere along the way, walls were built around classical music, around jazz, around folk, around rock. “DO NOT CROSS” signs were posted in all directions. Sentries in every walled-off area spoke “truths” that only fortified the walls: our music is serious, ours is modern, ours is of the people, ours is profound, ours is genuine, ours is fun.
Composers of the past would be puzzled by the severity of these borders. Bach deliberately reached across national boundaries; Schubert loved to assimilate popular music; Brahms could not get enough of Gypsy and beer hall music. Their borders were strong, yet fluid. Even we can’t make sense of our fractured musical world, since most of us love music that carries us across various stylistic borders. And at some level, we recognize that the disconnection between one kind of music and another has hindered what music is all about: love, humanity, beauty, healing.
For all of its 20 years, Pacific Serenades has encouraged musicians and music lovers to play out of bounds: to go against the 20th century proscription that new music must be like castor oil-good for you, but unpleasant. Since its beginning, Pacific Serenades has been about rebuilding the broken trust that has made music lovers fearful of new music. This season we build onto that an invitation to composers whose backgrounds include jazz, world music, film music, and rock. As always, our hands reach across borders to reconnect with what really matters: that music is music; that music is supposed to be beautiful and moving; that music transcends all borders-and in so doing makes us all more human and more divine.
I’m going to take a few days off to concentrate on composing. Debussy allegedly said that music is a jealous mistress. Well, so is blogging.
My brother introduced me to one the most useful (to me) and brilliant blogs I’ve ever read: Creating Passionate Users. Bookmark it, read it, see what I mean. I wish I could just read IT for a few days.
My publishing company, Yelton Rhodes Music, publishes several choral works that use the folowing poem, a poem we all had thought was written by someone called Mary Frye. We knew nothing of her, what her dates were or anything else.
•
Do not stand at my grave and weep
For I am not there I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am diamond glints of snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn’s rain
When you awake in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds encircled flight
I am the soft star that shines at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there
I did not die
•
I received the following correspondence from Peter Ramsey who claims to be the ACTUAL poet.
I wrote my original poem about 45 years ago in a moment of reflection… my thoughts today still.
Don’t think I had any one particular person in mind though.
The first line read, “Please don’t stand at my grave and weep.”
Minimal sharing of the poem took place; but at some time, probably within 5 years I changed the first line to read, “Do not stand at my grave and weep.”
I didn’t really think too much about the poem; only pulling it out if I could find it in moments of need, or if I came across it’s hiding place.
It was shared with radio stations in my hometown Adelaide, Australia, who often mailed it out to listeners who wanted it.
I also had access to teledex, fax, etc…
As we entered the computer age, I remember scanning the handwritten poem & also transcribing it.
It also opened up the world via internet etc.. It was widely shared now.
None of my pre Microsoft files remain.
I still have some files from 1990, & several a little later.
About 5 or 6 years ago I came across a webpage suggesting my poem was written by an unknown author about 1940 as a song.
As I have written & shared much of the million pages I have written as a hobby using pseudonym “Perter Ferter” it only made me chuckle.
About a month ago I heard a Katherine Jenkins song.
I decided to investigate Katherine on the internet.
The search page made reference to “Do not stand at my grave and weep.”
Searches of this, & I find 1.4 million references to the poem…. Many of them crediting Mary Frye as author…. All info from one source.
Knowing the facts about the poem, I didn’t know what to do but correct what appears to me to be a fabrication.
Mary Frye claims appear to be without substance…. No one has produced a copy of her poem so widely distributed by her.
If I had been aware in 2000 what was happening, I doubt 1.4 million pages would be assigned to the poem & the lie.
I note that others claim to writing it.. but they are the ones where verses & lines have been changed, added etc.. they are not a problem to me.
It was my intention that the poem has more meaning to comfort if it has unknown or anon author.
I am happy to fwd my longest surviving computer files.. & if I come across the handwritten version a copy of that too.
Like I said… Until recently I didn’t think it very important… I can write it from memory now anyway.
Hope I comfort everyone who loses someone….
I have also found this article at businessballs.com giving a thumbnail bio of Mary Frye with a bit of background stating that SHE actually is the poet in fact Abigail Van Buren (”Dear Abbey”) helped identify the “true” author — maybe.
There are a lot of nut cases out there, and Mr Ramsey seemed to be a sober enough chap, but I’m at a loss as to what to do. Any advice?
A new device called the Monome features an 8 X 8 matrix of buttons. It reminds me of the analog sequencer modules from the early days of Moog where one can get a maximum of eight notes on one grid. It would repeat over and over (remember Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love”?) like a loop. Well, clearly this gadget, which runs for around $500, has more than just notes that can come out of it.
“The wonderful thing about this device is that is doesn’t do anything really. it wasn’t intended for any specific application. we’ll make several, and others will make more. we hope to share as many of these as possible. drum machines, loopers, 1bit video transformers, physics models, virtual sliders, math games, etc.”
(Click the picture to see the company’s demo of the Monome.)
I am a somewhat regular member of the Rufus Wainwright Message Board, hosted by Dreamworks. This group has been a tremendous help to me in researching my book. I’d like to share a few recents posts.
One of the strings I posted was “Does Rufus read music?” I asked because of the thousands of pictures I’ve seen of him, there is not a single one where he has sheet music anywhere near him. Many people pitched in trying to help, but not until this week did a member called “pes” find an interview that has helped answer my question:
In his own words from an August 2005 interview in The Pitch (pitch.com):
In reponse to the question, “There’s been some talk about how the term “classically trained” may be overused in describing musicians, from Emerson, Lake & Palmer to Alicia Keys. To you, what does it mean to be classically trained?”
“I was actually classically trained — I was badly classically trained. I never ever practiced piano. I can still hardly read music. I actually failed out of music school when I went to a conservatory. Saying that, though, I very much appreciate and cherish my experiences in that world. I mean, even if you’re not particularly good at the music, to still be around some of those dedicated musicians and some of those great works of art, it has an impact. Even just to be around classical music, even if you’re not being trained in it, is very important for the mind.”
I have to say I relate to Rufus’s situation as it is very similar to mine. I grew up having a really good “ear” meaning I could pick music off of LPs without the sheet music. I suspect Rufus has always had that gift as well.
Many “classically trained” musicians just can’t do this, they need sheet music in front of them in order to play. Playing by ear and improvisation is not always taught or encouraged in music schools. I came late to reading and writing down music, so as a result, I’m not very good at sitting down at the piano and just playing anything put in front of me. Musicians like Rufus and me develop a great ability to memorize to compensate for this lack. Danny Elfman is someone who, at the beginning, had absolutely no ability to notate music. Critical film composers in LA love to trash him for this “deficiency.” Elfman surrounds himself with a whole crew of assistants who notate his improvisations or unnotated music. To me, this does not diminish a composer’s talent at all. I never had classical piano lessons as a boy, but played the piano all the time — and guitar. Who knows what Danny’s reason was. Rufus very likely learned a great deal from his mother BY EAR.
Sooooo, if Rufus ain’t so good at notating music, he better get better or he’ll have to pay a fair amount of money to notate his opera, which evidently he had to do when he played with Pops orchestras a couple of years back. I’m also hoping that they are saving money by using Judy Garland’s original charts for his upcoming Carnegie Hall show. You can be sure that Rufus will not be making them!
———
My primary Rufus genius is known as Rhapsody, who posts on this blog as well, asked my the following question:
How confusing….he says he never practiced the piano, yet he says he likes to spend hours a day composing at the piano (confirmed in Martha’s song about Rufus, Laurel & Hardy–”plays the piano till he swoons…”). I wonder if his definition of “practicing” is highly specific to practicing written music, rather than practicing playing the piano itself (if that makes sense). I don’t see how anyone could play the way he does (singing at the same time) without practicing for hours and hours.
So….Roger….does this mean he would also not be able to notate? Can you understand music theory and composing/writing music without being able to sit and sightread piano pieces?
When someone studies piano, part and parcel of it is practicing scales and arpeggios. Can you imagine Rufus finding that boring? He might be assigned a Bach 2 part invention: ok, but fairly far from Rufus’s aesthetic. Or a Beethoven piano sonata, or a little piece by Schubert, or an intermezzo by Brahms, or a Mozart sonata or…
Well, you see? Rufus is not really an instrumental composer. I don’t ever expect him to write a set of Preludes (although I’d LOVE it if he did), or piano sonata or concerto, or a Symphony. Songs, of course; song cycles, stay tuned, I’m sure he’ll embrace that as he gets older; cantata, maybe; musical or opera — a natural but Rufus has zero experience in creating large scale forms like that. He’s a song writer. He says the melody always comes first. So what that would mean to me, is that he could sit for hours at the piano working out his ideas, over and over. Because he likely doesn’t write it down (I’ll bet he records many of his improvisations), he plays it till he memorizes it. Scales and arpeggios? Yuk. Guaranteed to help technique in a young pianist, but boring to a young songwriter.
Here is an 80s group from Finland called Armi and Danny. Living in a multi-national city like LA, one rarely hears criticisms like “too white” but this number is too damned white, even for my white ass tastes.
My father, ready to buy a stationary bicycle, wrote me to ask Teresina’s advice on what kind of bicycle to buy. Here is her response (I’ve kept her e e cummings punctuation and poetic lineation).
Dear Roger’s Dad,
I prefer a good sturdy upright bike.
however, you have to work harder to support
the upper body.
the recumbent bike makes for a nice smooth ride
you still have to work hard,
but you have a back support
if you and your wife are going to ride regularly
and you might even put in tv area
i suggest the recumbent
but remember to not get lazy
you have to sit up straight
abs in!
by adding a few arms to your bike routine
you will work the heart harder
burn more calories
accomplish more at one time
(more conditioning)
and best, keep it from getting terribly BORING!
i’m working on a mini routine dvd.
feel free to ask more questions.
as far as buying one…
probably go shopping and sit on them
it’s mainly the seat comfort for recumbent
and tension for upright (sometimes tooooo hard!)
start with sears
or even a used one!!
don’t need to spend a lot.
hope this helps,
l,t
My Dad lives with my mom, Jo Ann, in Sun City West, AZ with two dogs and a great house, full of stuff that is their life, and stuff that they are slowly giving away, selling, or throwing away. He has two articles today that may resonate with some of you. One on “Good Friday” and one on wise choices in one’s senior years. He was a great protestant minister for 40-some years, first United Methodist, and then United Church of Christ. He retired some time ago and after urging him to consider starting a blog, he has and realizes that he still has a hell of a lot to say. And it doesn’t require preparing a sermon, driving to work, managing a church and all that that entails. Some of Rog and Jo Ann’s favorite pasttimes these days is sitting in the Arizona room, each with their respective laptops in their laps, Jo Ann playing one of her many solitaire games (a passion she passed on to me), and my Dad surfing the internet and working on his blog. They are voracious readers and usually have their instant messaging programs on so that any of their five kids can chat with them if they wish. Their children live all over the country: Roger III (me) lives in LA, Andy lives in Andover MA, Elizabeth lives in Surprise AZ, Peter lives in Minneapolis, and Joe lives in Omaha. I know they are very proud of us all. In the spirit of my post yesterday, I don’t need an authorized mothers day or fathers day to say: Thanks Mom and Dad for being such good parents and friends. We love you!
“Eyes Closed: Rog and Jo Ann in Love” photo by Roger Bourland (III)
Daniel and I love to celebrate. We celebrate our first meeting, our first date, our first conjugal embrace, and the date we moved in together. Not having a marriage option we don’t have a wedding anniversary and we don’t celebrate the day we signed our domestic partner papers. I celebrate getting a commission to write a piece of music of score a film. Daniel celebrates gettting commissions to design websites. Then we celebrate when we finish our projects. We love to celebrate.
Celebration often means going out to a restaurant or inviting people over for dinner. We are active entertainers, and love having people over for home-made food and some great wine. When I’m composing something, I invariably corral the guests into my office to hear my latest piece in progress. This is my version of “screening” my work in progress to see what works and what doesn’t, and it continues the warm and fuzzy tradition of 19th century parlor music where all the guests would gather around in the living room while someone plays the piano, or sing songs.
Celebrations are everywhere in society. There is a panoply of holydays celebrated by people of faith around the globe. (My guess is that Catholics have the most holydays.) Each religion and culture has its own way of “celebrating” and rather than try to make a list of them all, I’d rather look at the elements that they have in common. The most prevalent feature of a celebration is a social gathering. The “birds-of-a-feather” phenomenon guarantees that most of the assembled celebrants are of the same faith or political affiliation or country or tax bracket or family, or have important similarities that bind the group together. Social gravity I call it.
Voluntary social gatherings that can be thought of as “celebrations” make up a spectrum–– some examples that spring to mind include a birthday; a memorial for a famous person; remembering the killing of a religious leader; funerals and wakes; going out drinking; a religious service; an anniversary, especially those divisible by 10; a starting again of the calendar; giving awards; getting married; and of course, parties.
The celebration I find the most puzzling is the desire by adults to have huge birthday party celebrations for themselves or each other. I understand children having birthday parties and gifts and cake and festive hats up to age 12, but beyond that, to me, a dinner out with family, a friend or close friends is sufficient. Presents should never be required; we’ve got too much junk already. If you must have a party to celebrate the day you were born, do it on a year divisible by 5 or 10. And if it involves a lot of your good friends and family, consider just getting one really nice (i.e. more costly) present. When I turned 50 (a birthday worth celebrating) my friends chipped in and bought me a REALLY nice espresso machine, one that was too expensive for me to buy myself. That was cool. But coming away with 10 to 30 little presents every year of your life will, I guarantee you, fill your homes with clutter, junk, knick knacks, and other stuff you can’t bare to throw away because so-and-so gave it to you.
I confess to being a complete Scrooge when it comes to Christmas, or as I prefer to call it these days, Xmas. There is very little Christ in the Xmas I see these days. I feel the same way about Xmas as I do about birthdays: every five years would be fine. Now that corporations have taken over Xmas, we have to experience Xmas for 1/4 of the year. Yuk. No thank you. It’s out of control. In a scrooged state, I watched a news show last December that told me that the American economy would utterly collapse if Xmas were to stop. Xmas is as profitable to our economy as war is. It’s wired into our lives now. There is no escaping it.
I am not a person who cares much for tradition. Just because “it’s always been done” is not reason to keep doing it, unless you’re talking about breathing, eating, or behaving in society. I prefer random moments of joy and celebration for things that happen NOW. I don’t need big-business or big-church telling me what and when to celebrate and what I must buy.
By now you’re thinking: jeez, what a grouch. Let me explain: briefly, I look in my house, in my garage, in the basement, in all my rooms and closets, and storage areas, and there is too much STUFF. And most of them are from birthdays and Xmas presents. OK, not all of it: I have been a hopeless materialist who loves to collect and hold onto stuff. So, I see what a product I am of this materialistic society. How did I get like this?
So, for the rest of my life, I’m going to start giving stuff away to friends and students (let it clutter up THEIR homes!). No more presents except dinners out, and a few for my 60th 70th, 80th… birthdays.
“Come over this Friday for dinner.” “Let’s go skiing.” “Let’s go to mass.” “Wanna go shopping?” “Up for drinks?” “Let’s go dancing this weekend!” “Up for some nooky tonight?” “Honey, I bought you this because I saw it, I thought of you, and I made me appreciate how much I love you.” These are the holydays, or more precisely, non-holydays I celebrate. I’m not telling the world to follow suit, this is just something I’ve had to do for myself.
I spent much of today digitizing old cassette tapes of improvisations I made between 1974 and 1976. I’m not exactly sure why, I don’t want them released commerciallly as they have no commercial interest. I guess I’ll leave them with my musical sketches.
I am amazed at the energy of a 30 year younger version of myself pouncing around on the piano, discovering the world of the avant garde composer. I wanted to grow up to be Elliott Carter; no, Karlheinz Stockhausen. Aaron Copland was a hopeless sentimentalist, my entire youth spent playing folk, and rock, and country, and church music, was useless and beyond redemption. I was to be a MODERN COMPOSER! I was brimming with energy to do so. I was an avid improvisor. I wanted to compose all the time.
Listening to these 32 year old improvisations is an interesting experience, as it calls up old neurons that haven’t been fired up for a long time, but are still there. It’s like certain smells that bring up old memories.
What do I want to do with these? Use them for future music if I dry up? Unlikely. Release them as a CD? Forget it Roger, you know you’re only a half-assed pianist. No, it’s for the sake of stimulating those old neural pathways on days that I need to remember where I am.
Engraving: Father Time and Baby New Year from Frolic & Fun, 1897
Page 8 from the sketches for “Hebzibah” by Roger Bourland
People often ask composers: “What comes first? The melody or the words?” For me, the words always come first. Many lyricists enjoy writing to an existing tune, many hate it. For this teeny “opera” or maybe I’ll call it a chamber opera (3 voices, violin, cello, and piano) I am continuing Nadia Boulanger’s mandate for the grand line, of which page 8 appears above. Yes, I compose with pencil, but then after I have the foreground/melody it goes right into Sibelius (music notation program). Having the melody stretched out creates a kind of scaffolding in time across the work. There are often little blank measures with squiggles, meaning “put something in here…”
In this story, Mary is carrying the infant Jesus on the donkey, Hepzibah, and Joseph is walking by their side. Here is my question: Joseph hardly has much material. I mean, I can add stuff like “she’s right” and so on. But it occurred to me that it might be amusing to have Joseph have a stutter. He has a bit more character, is more human, and is different from the other two characters. Now, according to Christian faith, Joseph is NOT the biological father of Jesus, so this shouldn’t be disrespectful. Or is it?
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For many years, I’ve believed that the best hope for music—not just classical music, but jazz, Broadway, rock, etc.—lay in composers (and yes, song writers are composers, too) creating some kind of synthesis of the kinds of music they love.
I have to say I relate to Rufus’s situation as it is very similar to mine. I grew up having a really good “ear” meaning I could pick music off of LPs without the sheet music. I suspect Rufus has always had that gift as well.
