You gotta be tough to put up with Groucho Marks’ introductions. Nurturing? Try skeptical. But mmm mmmm! Listen to Ms Bentley. I wanna learn to play this. Do you suppose there is a notation of it somewhere? I can just smell the cigar smoke and feel those hot studio lights.
“Precious Memories” Wilburn Brothers, Del Reeves, Loretta Lynn & Harold Morrison (Late 1960’s)
Jason Moskovitz sent this in. “I’m the “light-skinned” guy on the big drum.” [on the left] I’ve gotta admit that this is one of the coolest orchestrations I’ve heard/seen is quite some time. The quivery instrument is a bowed saw, the percussion ensemble are members of the Taiko group Jason belongs to. Very cool. It’s like early 21st century chamber orchestra.
Maybe I should go to Florida and drink lots of beer and scream and get filmed by MTV so all my students will know what a party animal I am. Or, I could go to Palm Springs. Hmmmm…
I had the great fortune of two concerts this past weekend. On Saturday, Vox Femina/LA premiered my ALARCON MADRIGALS, BOOK 3 at the First United Methodist Church on Wilshire (LA). As I mentioned the other day, the concert was sold out. At the last minute, they opened up the good sized balcony in the back, as well as the huge choir loft that looks down to the presbytery. Every pew in the church was packed, including our pew. The only blank space was right in front of us: 2 pieces of paper holding two places for Francisco X. Alarcón, who was unable to attend. There was an excitement in the air. I looked at the program, and damn! I was the first half. I assumed that there would be some other music on the first half BESIDES me, but no. All me. Wow. As my piece was only 12 minutes or so, they added one selection from ALARCON MADRIGALS, BOOK 1, “A Neighborhood in LA”, and one from Book 2, the erotic “Both Page and Pen.” So with those two as a lead-in, Vox sang the hell out of my music. I was amazed. Oh, but did I mention Iris? Er, Dr. Levine, usually a sober, handsome, and lovable (for some), but tonight she was drop dead gorgeous. She glowed. After she acknowledged the audience, she turned to the women’s chorus, and it was as though a “smile spotlight” had been beamed on them: the whole chorus lit up, before the music even began. This is what true charisma is. And as they sang my songs–they all whizzed by so quickly–I realized how fortunate I am to have one of the best women’s chorus in the world really LIKE singing my music. It is such an honor to see a choir sing YOUR music from memory, and not just by rote, but as if they were really saying this stuff to you. Personal time is very mercurial for a composer hearing his work for the first time. Ditto the applause. It all gets smushed together, stumbles over itself. Errors (I didn’t hear any) get amplified a hundred-fold, the beautiful passages send adrenalin running through my body, I forget to breathe, and I have to remember I’m in public. The applause and comments were enthusiastic.
The second part of the concert was a 2-piano, percussion ensemble version of CARMINA BURANA, with the assembled forces of Vox Femina, GMCLA Classical Ensemble, the USC Percussion Ensemble, and the LA Children’s Chorus under Dr. Levine’s baton. One of the dangers of churches as concert halls is that they are so reverberant. This works in the chorus’s favor, but not so much the percussion instruments. I was terrified that the percussion ensemble would drown out everything, but Iris kept them on a short leash and kept the whole group in great balance. The soloists (Lori Stinson, Ralph Cato, and Brandon Brack) had entirely TOO much fun in their increasingly amusing solos. Even people who were slightly dreading hearing the piece again had to admit is was a fun performance. Three cheers to all involved, and especially to the amazingly diverse members of the audience. It was great to see so many of my old GMCLA buddies in the audience and in the chorus.
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Yesterday we had a group of friends come over for snacks and wine, and a little concert by me. Many of the songs were songs I used to play on the guitar and have now appropriated for the piano, but IN the guitar style whenever possible. I hauled out my guitar and banjo to illustrate some of the finger picking patterns I was trying to emulate. I also talked a bit about each song, what it was about, and sometimes gave some insight into interesting harmonic, melodic, or rhythmic features. People seemed to enjoy the banter with the songs. The Rufus Wainwright songs I did were “Poses,” “In a Graveyard,” “Complainte de la butte,” “Maker Makes,” and “My Phone’s on Vibrate.” Beatle songs: “Blackbird,” “You’ve got to Hide your Love Away,” and “Golden Slumbers” with the John Lennon song, “My Mummy’s Dead.” I also sang Joni Mitchell’s “Case of You,” and Bob Dylan’s “Tomorrow is such a long time.”
No, I’m not going on the road. No, I’m not making a CD. This is just something to share with friends. I realized how many songs from the 60s I know, and why don’t I play them for friends who might want to hear them? I used to be nervous confessing that I grew up on the Beatles and Byrds and Dylan. Nowadays, I’m not.
The Vox Femina premiere of my ALARCON MADRIGALS, BOOK 3 will happen tonight. I’m opening for Carl Orff’s CARMINA BURANA which will be performed by Vox, and the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles, The Los Angeles Children’s Choir, and the USC Percussion Ensemble, and conducted by Iris Levine.
Funny thing is, IT’S SOLD OUT! I’m afraid there will be a lot of people turned away tonight. Ah well, it should make for an exciting night.
As it is the end of the term, I have finals to correct, grades to calculate, a competition to adjudicate, a report about a new hire to make, and a document to create about what I think our new music school should be like, I have almost no time left to blog for a few days. So, I’ll just install a fermata over it and pick up as soon as I catch my breath.
Hold that thought!
RB
Here is a sweet clip from a family that lost their Italian Greyhound, Bitty, to bad dog food. Heartbreaking. We have 2 IGs, and Bitty looks a bit like our Cody. They are fragile dogs and have fragile digestive systems. If you have a dog, be sure you’re not feeding it tainted food.
[Rufus, takes a break from composing his opera, and watching Fellini's SATYRICON the screen freezes on the face of the young, brown hair, big-eyed gay boy, whose face slowly grows and fills the entire 50 inch flat screen display. Rufus bolts, knowing this is not in the movie. "Hello?" The face on the screen slowly changes from color to color until it becomes a negative image. And then the face slowly morphs into the face of a 34-year old Maurice Ravel, world famous French composer. The entire conversation was in French, and this translation is courtesy of Rosemary Brown.]
MR: Hello Rufus.
RW: (Startled) Who are you? You look very familiar.
MR: I am Maurice Ravel at your age. [34]
RW: Ah yes, Hector told me to expect you. He said that you would continue with my composition lessons. Very pleased to meet you sir.
MR: Please call me Maurice–not the English pronunciation “moh-rus” but the French, “mo-rees” with the accent on “rees.”
RW: Alright, Maurice, I can’t tell you what a relief it is being rid of that fag basher Ives. What are you going to teach me today?
MR: I don’t think you need teaching at all, you are fine just the way you are.
RW: (blushing) Ah c’mon, I’m nowhere near you in my craft.
MR: True.
RW: Hey, you didn’t have to agree quite so quickly.
MR: I really have very little interest in teaching, much less cloning or imparting my own musical language to another composer. Other composers need to be who they are. So, you are who you are, and that is just fine.
RW: Teach me.
MR: No.
RW: TEACH ME.
MR: No! [long pause] Alright, but just a little.
RW: (Turns his eyes to the ceiling, lets out a sigh, grabs a pencil and lights a cigarette) Ok, ready.
MR: I have just finished a new piano piece, “Tombeau de Couperin.” It is just what you need to study in terms of letting your piano technique continue to evolve. Those early songs of yours like “The Money Song” and “The Bela Song” have an attractive sophistication that your later piano accompaniments don’t. I know, you’ve been focusing on your VOICE. Your voice will fade as you age, but your piano technique can serve you well right up to the end. You’ve been favoring the “guitar-piano” style where your accompaniments are akin to guitar strumming. Fine for a while, but I want more.
I’d like for you to compose a set of piano preludes, each in a different character. Start with a Book I, a set of 12. I’d like you to study the following pieces, and procure several different performances:
I’ll give you a year to do it. I’ll pop in from time to time when I see that you’ve finished one.
RW: For solo piano right?
MR: Yes.
RW: This sounds like a great project, and something that will distract me from the opera.
MR: Well it’s late here, and I need to get going so I can have my walk in the park.
RW: This late?
MR: But of course.
RW: Oh, duhh. Got it. Have a nice cruise Maurice.
MR: Good luck on the piece.
RW: Good luck on your walk!
Since we have started a tradition of having little concerts in our home for friends, it seemed appropriate that I give a concert as well. The only music I have ever performed publically has been my music and pop music. I don’t play Mozart or Beethoven or Haydn piano sonatas in public. There are plenty of people that can do that.
Daniel and I put together a list of people we know who would likely appreciate hearing this kind of music and seeing that it was around 60 people and our home can only accommodate around 30, we decided to have 2 concerts. I then decided to have the first concert for the under-35 crowd and the 2nd one, over-35.
I was a bit nervous about the under-35 concert as much of the music was written before they were born. I was relieved that they seemed to enjoy the music.
The little concert went fairly well. My piano is so loud that I drowned my voice out several times despite trying to keep the damper pedal down and to play softly. I guess I’ll have to use a microphone next time–yuk. But then, I have never had voice lessons and am hardly a professional singer.
The song I nearly cut that seemed to draw the biggest response was “Complainte de la Butte,” sung by Rufus Wainwright on the MOULIN ROUGES film. John Lennon’s little song “My Mummy’s Dead” brought on some sniffles. Adrenaline wrecked my performance of Rufus’s “Poses” so Daniel suggested I move that to a later slot for the next concert.
For the next performance, I’ll have real musicians listening who likely had no idea that I was a closet folky and Beatles singer.
I’ve always wanted to be able to sing the art songs that I have written and will begin working on that goal with the intent of giving a concert of my own songs for next year.
When we debated buying the piano last year, it was Cameron Macnall who advised us to not postpone things that are important (he had 2 friends die in the past several months), and so we bought it instead of a new car. It was in that spirit that I felt compelled to give a concert of pop songs I like to sing–warts and all–for my friends. We just never know when things we take for granted will cease to be a possiblity.
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