Helen Bledsoe

Category: contemporary music

  • Interpretation of Contemporary Music: Finding the Composer’s Voice

    Familiarity with a composer’s style and esthetics is essential in preparation of music from any period. How can we go about learning these essentials when faced with music of a composer who is new to us?

    First, research and familiarize yourself with the composer’s other works, and perhaps more interestingly, find his/her sources of inspiration. These sources may be musical (traditional Japanese music, in Toru Takemitsu’s case) or non-musical (Edgar Varèse and Iannis Xenakis were both inspired by architecture). Here are some specific suggestions:

    Luciano Berio, Sequenza no. 1: listen to the Sequenza no. 3 for voice (even though the vocal Sequenza post-dates that of the flute). Listen to a recording of Cathy Berberian for whom the piece was written (recorded on the Wergo label), or Luisa Castellani (Deutsche Gramophon). If you ever have a chance to hear Ms. Castellani perform this piece live, jump at it, she does a stunning job from memory.

    Edgar Varèse, Density 21.5: listen to the woodwind solos in the ensemble pieces: Intgrales, Hyperprism and Octandre. Poeme Electronique, his last finished work, I believe, shows how he realized his concept of blocks of sound electronically. This piece, architecturally inspired by LeCorbusier, seems to be a culmination of his ideals.

    Toru Takemitsu, Voice or Itinérant: Listen to some traditional shakuhachi playing as well as music from Noh theater, although Takemitsu only later in his career composed with traditional Japanese elements and for Japanese instruments. In November Steps, a concerto for solo biwa and shakuhachi, you can hear how he combines these traditional instruments with modern orchestration. The films for which he wrote music show how he valued the notion of timing and movement.

    Kazuo Fukushima, Mei, Shun-San, Requiem: Fukushima was not a terribly prolific composer. Although he is still alive at the time of this writing, he seems to have stopped composing at the end of the nineteen-sixties and devoted himself to full-time teaching. To understand the esthetic of his works, one should be familiar with the sounds of traditional Japanese Noh Theater, its flutes, drums and chorus, and the experimental style of Western music of the sixties with its early forays into the use of extended techniques and graphic notation.

    Salvatore Sciarrino, Opera per flauto vol. 1 & 2 : Each piece in this two volume set exists in its own sound universe through the exploitation of a particular set of extended effects. For me it was useful to hear how he translates some of the same effects to other instruments such as the clarinet solo Let me die before I wake. His ensemble pieces Esplorazione del Bianco and Introduzione all’oscuro are good examples of how he uses particular instrumental effects to create atmosphere.

    Find the composer’s sources of inspiration by reading biographical information or reading his/her own writings, often easily found in libraries or the internet. If the composer has little internet presence one can also try:
    • searching the directories of national composer’s unions (ASCAP in the US)
    • sending inquiries through the composer’s publisher
    • sending inquiries to the CD or record label on which that composer is recorded

    Information about lesser-known composers may be scant, or recordings of their works may not be available. In this case, don’t despair, ask around. Use your own resources, knowledge of different styles and the knowledge of colleagues or friends. Ask the advice of other composers. If they are amenable, offer to play for them. Sometimes it has helped me to play for someone who is trained to listen to form.

  • Extended Techniques: Benefits, Applications and Tips

    I’d like to open with some inspiring words by Sax player Jack Wright

    In the early decades of free improv, when new techniques were the mark of a fresh approach to traditional instruments, they were often considered the new standard to be displayed. But at this point I find players using a more integrated technique, where nothing is “extended” because no technique by itself connotes a radical departure. […] [N]ow every technique tends to be subordinate to the direction of the music, and pyrotechnics are not flashed as a distinctive badge of mastery. Of course, there are some in every audience who will be impressed by circular breathing, the kind of “look, ma, he ain’t breathing!” reaction, but if we want to stay on course we know we aren’t about impressing people but rather opening up our musical hearts. And for me, this opening calls for the hugest range of sound the imagination can wring out of body and instrument. [From an interview with John Berndt]

    The study of extended techniques as an extension of good traditional technique and good practice habits gives our imagination wide scope for expression. Studied carefully, they will help to strengthen many aspects of flute technique: embouchure, air flow and the cultivation of patience! Below are some of the benefits and applications that I have discovered myself and collected from others:

    • Harmonics. Benefits: embouchure strengthening and development, improvement of upper register, especially articulation of quiet attacks, familiarization of “natural” tuning, finding the correct angle of a note, and their use as “alternate” fingerings
        Applications:

      • to relieve stuffy notes – take a high note that tends to stuffiness such as G#3. Play it first mf sustained. Then play it as a harmonic of C#, then as a harmonic of middle G#, then as a harmonic of E, then as a harmonic of low C#. At each step, play the note sustained, then with repeated articulations: single, double tongued, and flutter tongued. Listen to the intonation as well. Note how much or how little you have to do to “correct” it.
      • for third-octave rapid passages, use harmonic fingerings for ease and improved intonation
      • when playing alto or bass flute in the third octave, I almost always use harmonic fingerings as the “traditional” ones are inevitably too sharp.
    • Singing while playing. Benefits: opening of the sound, improvement of the sense of pitch, control of air flow
        Applications:

      • as an exercise for hitting high notes: sing and play low C, then blow up through the harmonic series. To reach the highest C, notice how you needn’t sing louder. The speed of the air is what produces this sound. You can create that speed by moving the lips forward – like you would sqeeze the nozzle of a garden hose to get the water out in a faster stream. Find the correct angle, focus your energy at the pelvic floor (as if you are about to cough) and blow! But notice how you can keep your throat relaxed: keep singing.
      • throat tuning to help smooth out potentially “bumpy” intervals – such as (above the staff) E down to A.
    • Multiphonics. Benefits: embouchure refinement and strength, control of air pressure and speed, control and awareness of angle of air column
        Applications

      • as an exercise for refinement of quiet tones: push the flute in all the way and play multiphonics of very small intervals (see Exercise L: Robert Dick Tone Development through Extended Techniques). My method is to play the notes separately and refine the sound of the upper note first. Once you have refined it – remember the air speed, this is the one you will need. It can’t be weaker and still produce the upper note! Then by changing the angle of the airstream find the lower note. (This is Robert Dick’s advice, then he further suggests to tune your throat to the weaker pitch.)
      • as an exercise for opening up the sound – (pull the flute back out if you have pushed it in) – play muliphonics of large intervals (see Exercises D and Q: Robert Dick Tone Development through Extended Techniques). For these intervals it helps to think of having a “tall” embouchure, the upper lip controlling the upper note, the lower lip controlling the lower note.
        Tip

      • When you need to hit a stable multiphonic in an ensemble situation, it is often advisable to aim for the top note and don’t let it waver, otherwise it will sound like a mistake. (For example, the multiphonics in Xenakis’ Jalons.) Of course, make the sound as rich as you can by including as much of the lower tone(s) as possible
    • Whistle tones. Benefits: control and awareness of the lip’s aperture, control of very slow air-stream
        Applications:

      • as listening and refining exercise choose a low note such as low C, play whistle tones carefully seeing which notes of the harmonic series you can pick out. To find the proper resonance, whistle the normal way – this prepares your oral cavity for the right shape of the whistle tone.
      • as a relaxing/de-stressing exercise: work on controlling slow air streams by practising low whistle tones. Your embouchure has to be very steady because there is little air behind it to support it. (Patience: It took me a long time to get to low C!) This is another case where thinking “tall embouchure” helps. It also helps to think of having a cushion of air behind your lips (i.e., your lips are not too flat against your teeth) and to relax your jaw. Once you can do this reliably, it is a good de-stressor before going on stage.
      • if you have trouble producing a fourth octave note, find the correct angle by first finding the whistle tone (you may find yourself rolling out more than usual), then blow. It should help.
    • Circular breathing. Benefits: development of the larger muscles for embouchure flexibility and stamina, ability to play longer phrases in moving passages.
        Applications:

      • in classical repertoire, one can use this for rapid or trill passages. I like to use it for long cadential trills because you can give full power without fear of having not enough air for the final note.
      • as a checkpoint for resonance. When I am warming up or just about to go on stage, I check my circular breathing regardless if it is required in the piece I am about to play. This is a sure-fire test to see if either of my nostrils or the back of my throat is blocked. If I am clear enough to circular breathe then I should be able to play with maximum resonance!

    To approach a given technique musically, ask yourself (or by all means the composer):

    • is the technique used to create a certain atmosphere?
    • does it evoke something concrete?
    • does the technique play a role in the form of the piece?

  • Extended Techniques, Blessing or Abomination?

    I am astonished by the occasional vitriol I encounter from some prominent flutists when it comes to extended techniques such as multiphonics, circular breathing and so on. They chant the same nonsense: “bad for your embouchure”, “waste of time”, “don’t be one of those players”. After over 20 years of experience with these techniques as a player and teacher, I am convinced of their benefit to traditional playing. But that’s not what I want to post about. I would like to approach this question from another angle.

    Some years ago in an active network forum a very prominent flutist remarked that flutists who can circular breathe belong to a certain class of players whose time would have been better spent working on learning to play properly. I won’t delve into the implications here. It made me livid. I spent 11 weeks in 1992 learning to circular breathe, did that hinder me from playing properly? How idiotic! This person has somewhat recanted this initial statement, but the shadow of stigma still applies in some circles.

    Now I have 5 years experience teaching at the conservatory level, and I’ve begun to understand this attitude. I won’t say I sympathize, but I understand it enough to offer some insights which I hope will help students, teachers and composers. There are two issues, as I see it.

    The first is a basic misunderstanding. Here is an illustration – this semester I had a student who was swamped with student ensemble compositions and several 20th century repertoire pieces. After this period, she came to me with an 18th century work. The sound was bad, no focus, articulation stuck, breathing shallow. She had tied herself into knots because of the difficulty of the contemporary works, which included circular breathing, microtonality and switching to alto and bass flutes. A typical teacher’s reaction would be “OK, see what that stuff does to you? No more!” But folks, the music itself is not at fault, it was the student’s attitude toward it that stressed her and put her practice into panic mode, causing physical problems that set her way back.

    That can happen with any repertoire. It can happen when you first learn to play the piccolo. Good and balanced practice on the piccolo can help and enrich your flute playing, as can good and balanced practice of extended techniques. Managing the airstream and angle for piccolo playing is also an extention of flute technique. Exercising the same management for multiphonics is not such an “out-there” thing.

    It wasn’t for nothing that Aurèle Nicolet always said: “You must play Baroque music every day, you must play Bach every day!” If you practice extended techniques as a true extension of good practice out of good flute technique, you won’t fall back, or at least if you do, the recovery time will be very quick.

    However, there is another aggravating element, which leads me to the second point, the disparity between composing and performing. Student composers don’t necessarily need endless years of training to write very complicated music. Student instrumentalists and singers need decades of training before they acheive the level it takes to play a complicated piece it took a student composer only one semester to write. I’ve put this rather crudely but you get what I mean. Since being a composer-performer is not really encouraged by the conservatory system, this artistic link has been severed. Our only hope is diplomacy! Communication of the issues of difficulty is very important. Encouraging an us-versus-them attitude will make the situation for both worse.

    When a flute student is first exposed to contemporary techniques at the conservatory level, it is likely s/he will be overwhelmed because that first exposure may be a standard repertoire piece written for a professional [think of all the works written for Pierre-Yves Artaud, Robert Aitken, Roberto Fabricciani and so on], or written by a student or faculty composer who assumes that level as the norm. The student is frustrated, the teacher, if inexperienced, is also frustrated and there’s another black mark against contemporary music. The earlier good, measured, positive exposure to extended techniques, the better.

  • Nono: a Bass Flutist Prepares

    Working on Das atmende Klarsein has provoked a bit of a crisis. Not that I can’t handle a piece for solo bass flute, small choir and live electronics. I eat that stuff for breakfast. Well, ok, I usually wait until after breakfast….

    The crisis comes from several directions. One is historical. You wouldn’t think a contemporary music person like me would be faced with issues of historical performance practice, but it happens all the time. Styles change, techniques change, instruments are built differently, all with the rapidity of less than one generation. And I’m not even thinking about the electronic components!

    I did not really like the piece at first. Take the first movement for flute: at first listening it is nothing more than a grab-bag of (now cliché) flute sounds: airy, elephantine honks on a piece of metal plumbing along with the rattling of ill-fitted key work. A real 1980’s museum piece. How on earth does one mould these sounds into something that can say something today? Was there even a “something” that needed to be moulded? My guess was yes. I have noticed a direct correlation: the more obscure something sounds you can bet the more heavy the philosophical component lurking behind the work. And it turns out I was right. At least that is somewhere to start! Research!

    There is no lack of information regarding the background of this piece. The score is sold with a DVD for didactic purposes. OK. I’m undyingly grateful and informed. However, the audience will not have the benefit of this DVD, they may not even bother to read the program notes. I need to present something that sounds convincing without a brief lecture on the philosophical texts of Plato, Hölderlin, Walter Benjamin and Rilke. Is it just me, or am I strange in thinking one should be able to enjoy music on a purely sensual level?

    That is crisis No. 1 in a nutshell. Crisis No. 2 is this: I’m having to eat my words. All my composer spanking has, in a way, come back as a great kick in the behind. Ok, some of you may be sniggering about that. Go ahead. You see, Nono was one of those great composers who really, really worked closely with the performer. This is what I’m always encouraging composers to do, telling them not to do this, not to do that, to be precise in notating what the player can do. Well it seems to me in this respect Nono was so successful that I see in the score what Roberto Fabbriciani could play, and in fact, I don’t know really what Nono himself wanted. I can only infer it by gathering background information on this piece and working with those who knew him. (So you see, oral tradition still plays a great role!) That is a grey area I can deal with, as I am experienced in interpreting and improvising. But it is an example where I wish the notation were a little, hmm, less precise and more open to variations of articulation, dynamics and sound color. As a matter of fact, I don’t feel as if I am playing a piece by Nono at all sometimes. Of course the overall concept of the piece is his, but when it comes to the flute part I feel less like I’m crawling into the skin of the composer and more like I’m crawling into the skin of Roberto Fabbriciani. Please note, I mean absolutely no disrespect here for the man!

    However, Fabbriciani says in the DVD that the score is a point of departure for interpreters. Whew! The role of the bass flute is also explained: it represents a nostalgia for the future, as the choir represents a nostalgia for the past. I wonder if it is the same esthetic as his work for violin, tape and electronics, La Lontananza Nostalgica Utopica Futura? In any case I found this a useful concept. Nostalgia for the future also goes through it’s fashion, from Star Trek to Sun Ra’s cult film Space is the Place. The trick is to present sounds, phrasing and so on that sound fresh and forward-looking in today’s world.

    I was reminded of a passage from Stanislavski’s book An Actor Prepares. The actor was to interpret the role of the hero who was a misogynist. The difficulty was, the piece was a light comedy, not a tragedy. What is funny about a misogyny? Analysing the role, the actor discovers that the hero does not really hate women, he only wants to project that image. That gives lots of scope for irony and self-deprecation. The parallel here is that I am reminded again not to take the written score at face value, but to find in it the voice I want to project.

    Was I successful? Well, depends on who you ask. After the concert I was pleased to hear from some that they enjoyed the piece on a purely musical level, not knowing Nono’s music. Approval from the non-cognoscenti, so to speak. However, one Famous Flutist remarked that it was impressive, but had nothing to do with actual flute playing. I was disappointed that was how it came across, as if intonation, long-ass phrases and extreme control of the direction of air stream have nothing to do with flute playing. Although maybe it was a compliment in that the technical processes were well hidden enough so that at least something came out?

    (edit) Here is a read-only share link to a later formal article that I co-authored with Daniel Agi concerning Nono’s late flute works.

    https://soundcloud.com/sfem-1/luigi-nono-das-atmende

  • Preview of Solo Concerts June 29th and July 5th

    Here I am just keeping tabs on myself again. I’m into the home stretch of preparations for my first solo concerts (not solo appearances, by the way) after the birth of Nikolai, Sept. 14, 2008.

    Now is the time to appreciate all the energy that goes into the preparation of a solo flute concert. Just being able to play the pieces is enough work (could spend a lifetime on that….). But I need to get in physical shape. I know the pieces, and my lips are in shape but as I ran through a few pieces today I realized I need more strength. That is going to be the hard work. Then there is the publicity, photos, program notes…. (sigh…)

    Lactation takes some of your energy away. And recovery from a c-section, major abdominal surgery, takes its time. (I don’t know why anyone would elect to have one, if not medically necessary. You are in pain for much longer than a normal labor – not at the time perhaps, but afterwards when you need to be working and up and about. No fun for flutists!) So in addition to my lackadaisical yoga routine, my occasional walking and biking I need to get my butt moving.

    So enough whinging. Here’s what’s on:

    June 29th, the German premiere of Jüri Reinvere’s Requiem for solo flute, 6 voices and video. This 50 – minute work will be performed during the week celebrating Estonian Culture in Münster, Germany.
    The concert will be at 20.00 hours at the Apostelkirche. The work is, how shall I describe, “post Sciarrino”. Many lovely quiet sounds, very poetic. I really enjoyed working with the composer, making some discoveries and clarifying some elements of extended techniques. However, the composer, and Richard Craig (who did the World Premiere) and I are still scratching our heads over how to notate the last movement. Notation remains the bug-bear and bane of contemporary music.

    next, July 5th in Cologne at the Altes Pfandhaus at 19.15
    Program will be moderated by local radio celebrity Michael Struck-Schloen, and is the final in the series “unvorhergehört” – a soloist series initiated by local composer Marcus Antonius Wesselmann. Actually, this program will be more of a mix of “unvorhergehört” (not heard before) and “1000 Mal vorhergehört” (heard 1000 times before). I think that will make it fun, though:

    Debussy – Syrinx
    Varese – Density 21.5
    Jüri Reinvere – opposite of thought from Requiem
    Marcus Antonius Wesselmann – Solo no. 1
    Toru Takemitsu – Voice
    Robert Dick – “Electric Blues” from Flying Lessons
    Improvisation – title will either be für Enno or That Cat Don’t Sit

  • Intonation III : the Spectre of Spectralism

    Some days ago I got the score for G. F. Haas’ new work „ … wie Stille brannte das Licht“. (What is it with German-speaking composers and their titles with elipses?). It got me thinking about how different composers notate microtonality. I like what Haas has done, it is explicit in placing the note within a frame of reference.

    The notated C quarter-sharp in bar 241 is the 11th partial of G, and the A-flat in bar 245 is the 21st partial of E-flat (along with the indication that you are in a perfect fifth with the clarinet). I like having this kind of information in the score, but if he had notated the exact deviation in cents, that would have been even more helpful. This is easy enough to find out in Wiki

    That 11th partial should a C# 49 cents flat, and the 21st partial should be an A-flat 29 cents flat. Like I said, easy enough for find out, but it would have been nice if the composer had provided this information.

    We haven’t had rehearsal yet, so I can’t say how this will sound or how easy this will be to hear. [ed. read my follow up at the bottom of this post]
    So now the question arises: How does one practice this stuff?

    First of all, I get my tuner. Trying the A-flat first, I make sure that our Eb’s are in tune. Then I play an A-flat ca. 29 cents flat. Then I keep that tone while putting the sound on to Eb and I hear a Bb combination tone. This is a clue that I am on the right track, or within the correct overtone spectrum. Your combination tone (it may be a true difference tone or not, depending on the timbre and register of instrument) should lie in close relationship to the fundamental – say an octave, fifth or major third (which is the 5th partial, you don’t want to go much farther than that). Put in simpler terms, it should be part of the major triad formed by the fundamental.

    Now to try the C# against the G. Again I tune the G’s, then test my C3 so the needle goes about 49 cents flat, then put the sound on G. My difference tone is B natural this time, still close enough (a major third – the 5th partial) in relation to G to be correct.

    Again, I have no idea how this will work in the context of the piece, or if it will be heard. But now I know, theoretically, how much adjustment is “correct”.

    Whether this works in context or not, I love working with combination tones. Scientists are still not in agreement as to what they are – but it is a wonderful example of how our brains work – how they “fill in the blanks” of the overtone spectrum. I wonder if this is the same phenomenon that allows transistor radios to work? Only the upper partials are projected, the brain fills in the rest.

    Also, I’ve noticed that I’m one of those people who can read things like this, hence my spelling problems, most likely. (Thanks to my like-minded Uncle T for this text):

    fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too. Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can.

    [Follow-up added May 5, 2009]
    The passage in question was actually not so difficult to hear! You are a part of this “lump” of sounds that are related to the fundamental. It is tricky that he has two harmonic spectrums going at once: those of G and E-flat.

    When considering dynamics in this piece we realized that there was a lot more going on than just playing loudly or softly. It helped to think of crescendo/decrescendo passages as adding/subtracting harmonics to your individual sound rather than just making the sound louder or softer. This made for a much more interesting color. Also, the very quiet passages must be played with focus and good attack. Even the quietest notes need some harmonics in the sound, none of this fluffy airy stuff! It just didn’t match the color system.

    I do admit the 11th partial gave me the most trouble in this piece. Tricky to hear! It must be 49 cents flat. I must make some exercises.

    Speaking of which, I asked the composer and my colleagues how one can study and practice this music. The answer is always the same, learn the overtone series, horizontally, note by note, by ear. How can one do this? Programming a synthesizer seems to be the most popular idea. However you do it, once the sounds are in your head, you have to find a way to play them (of course, in a comfortable range of your instrument. I’m thinking middle octave) by using a combination of alternate fingerings and lip bending. Another project for me!

  • Seminar with Brian Ferneyhough 25 March, 2009

    Almost didn’t get out of bed that day. I was under the weather, and a warm blanket, but I managed to hop on the train to Amsterdam in time for Ferneyhough’s seminar on his flute pieces, which was organized by Joel Bons (artistic director of the Nieuw Ensemble) and Harrie Starreveld.

    Harrie kicked off by playing a bit of Mnemosyne for bass flute and tape (or- and this I’d forgotten – 9 live players. I’d just love to be part of that someday!). He discussed how he learned and practiced the piece. Nowadays, you can put the notes into the computer and play them back, at all speeds. This would function as a kind of mnemonic learning device for the rhythm, but only an additional device, you would still need a click track to stay together with the tape. Ferneyhough highly recommends using a click track. Some players have tried without and not succeeded. The problem with getting out of sync with the tape is that the harmonies, which play a crucial role, will be all wrong.

    Harrie played a recording of a computer realization of one bar to show how one could slow it down to learn the rhythms mnemonically

    BUT…

    ….a computer-like rendering with literal-minded exactitude is not the point of this piece (or any of Ferneyhough’s music). Each of the three lines of the solo part has its own character. Indeed, that is one reason they are notated on separate staves. There is a play of interruptive polyphony between them. He also went on to say that his music is consideredcomplex because conservatory training in rhythm is only basic. The focus in ear training is on interval recognition, rather than rhythmic recognition.How does the human element come into play in this piece? One way: the performer is observing him/herself learn. There are the 3 textures/voices, the performer has to choose which one is primary at a given time. However, he cautioned against mere approximation: approximation is the negative side of interpretation.Harrie remarked that the end result sounds very flexible. This led Ferneyhough to remark that when you hear a performance of Beethoven, you don’t hear a reading of the score: you hear a translation of tradition. The vernacular of music is evident in Beethoven, it is not in contemporary music.

    To me, personally, this is an added human element to a performance of his music. This contemporary vernacular is yet-to-be defined, and seeking it is part of the creative process. Maybe this is also what he means by the performer observing his/herself learn?

    Next our student Daisuke played Cassandra’s Dream Song. One part of the opening passage was the best Ferneyhough had heard it to date. Way to go Daisuke! The opening strophe Ferneyhough described thus: the first half is “effort rhythm” then “precise rhythm”. It is a building up of energies, a somatic crescendo, then releasing. This is to engage the body from the very first moment of the piece. The flute as an extension of the body is how he thinks of this piece.

    I didn’t know that the original idea was to improvise the order of the strophes during performance. However, Ferneyhough has gotten away from this idea. One has to find a way to intersect the two pages and create chains of continuity.

    He touched on several of the techniques, the different vibrati/smorzato, and the section with voice. A male flutist should, ideally, sing falsetto. If not possible, you need to add the beating effect, as this passage should sound like two weaving sine waves. He is not sure if the fingering of the multiphonic with the high F# is a good one. He didn’t have an open-holed flute to work with, so was wondering if someone would come up with a better fingering.
    While discussing notation at one point he said: you don’t choose notation, it chooses you.

    Then a brave lady [must find out name, anyone?] played Superscriptio. This turns out to be not the first piece with irrational meters (1/10, 3/12). It was first done by Henry Cowell, then by Dieter Schnebel in the 1950’s. (See also my post on irrational meters.)

    He admits that the opening page and a half is cruel. However, that is not the intention. This piece opens his entire Carceri cycle: a single instrument – high and very light. The opening section is not meant to be “musical” – rather, it is coming to terms with ways of contrapuntal thinking. Later on, the material becomes “musical”. Harrie commented that the opening is however quite melodic, like a children’s ditty. He even performed it as such for a radio broadcast.

    The next section needs attention to the speed of articulated passages. They are at uncomfortable speeds, sometimes slower than expected. This is important, otherwise one can get carried away and go with the vertige, but then it ends up sounding like any other contemporary piccolo piece.

    There is a famous passage in this piece with repeated C’s that are notated differently, but performed at the same speed. This is because he has several systems running simultaneously. When things like this happen, OK. Even if his system comes up with something tonal like a reference to a major triad: so be it. The performer needs to be aware when this happening, but doesn’t need to show it to the audience.

    Further, he explained the meaning of the title “Superscriptio”. It’s part of an emblem (usually found in collections called emblem books). This was a 16th century form of learned entertainment – a combination of texts and images . Above the image a short motto (lemma, inscriptio [superscriptio – because it is above] ) is scratched or handwritten introducing the theme or subject, which is symbolically bodied in the picture itself (icon, pictura); the picture is then described and elucidated by an epigram ( subscriptio ) or short prose text.


    Here is an example of two French emblems


    This is not a complete reporting of my notes from the seminar, only some of the things I was able to jot down while also taking photos!

  • Bottom of the Food Chain


    Wondering why I haven’t posted recently? This is where I have been all week! At the bottom of the food chain! OK, maybe I exaggerate. Maybe more like a pawn on the chessboard of pieces where composers, conductors, organizers, managers are the big players. We play what sells, and ideas sell, beautiful packaging sells, regardless of the quality that is inside.

    I’ve worked with more living composers than you can shake a stick at. In today’s European Contemporary Music Scene, a handful of lucky composers are the stars, not the ensemble or orchestral musicians who play their music. These chosen few (composers) are promoted by organizers of festivals and the big publishing companies (who act as their agents as well). If you have a performance scheduled and receive a dud or embarrassing piece from one of them, or a piece that comes too late and is impossible to play: tough luck. It is your job to get it done and make it sound good. Cancelling a piece is politically incorrect, or would cause a scandal. The programs have been printed. The VIPs have been invited. The deals have been made. Money has changed hands. You are the sissy if you complain or can’t pull it off. Besides, you have a family to feed, and can’t afford to forgo your share of the money (minuscule as it may be).

    A question was posed recently on the Flute List: does one have a moral obligation to fulfill a composer’s intentions? I’d like to turn it around. Does a composer have similar moral obligations? Heck, does he even have a professional obligation when it comes to fulfilling a commission? It would seem not. More often than not, we find ourselves in a situation where a quality rendering of the premiere piece is severely compromised: too late, not for the instrumentation specified, unreadable manuscript, or unexplained, unclear notation. [I’m not talking about student workshops, I’m talking about well known composers who (even sadder) have teaching positions and are influencing the young generation.] Do we still pay the commission fee under such circumstances? Yes. We’re nice, we’re professionals, we’re capable. We’re pioneers, we can take anything anyone throws at us. Ahem.

    Still, I’m a big fan of composers, even tardy ones. I support contemporary music and all its endeavours: big, small, loud, quiet, beautiful, ugly, complex, minimalistic. For all my b–ing I am happy to be doing what I am. So now I will speak of me/us/performers and our obligations, moral or otherwise to the composer’s intentions.

    I’ll confine myself to 20th century and later composers – earlier music is another whole can of worms. I’ll be honest. There are a few composers whom I dread to play. I see them coming up on a program and think: “well, I’ll just go get my strait-jacket.” These are the ones that require slavish following of their notation, no deviations allowed. Dang. I got into contemporary music because I consider myself a bit of a deviant. If I wanted to slavishly follow someone I could make a heck of a lot more money in an orchestra somewhere. [OK, I know it’s not that bad in most orchestras! But you have to be darned lucky.]

    Here’s an example, though, of where this somewhat adolescent attitude of mine proved to be misplaced. I used to consider Karlheinz Stockhausen one of these dreaded composers. Working with him closely on the premiere of his Rotary Quintet gave me another perspective.

    For the premiere of this work he wanted to underscore the difference between male and female (This quintet is part of his Licht cycle). So he asked us to reflect this gender difference in our concert-wear. With some trepidation, and gentle respect, I objected on the grounds that as a musician, I don’t consider my gender, and my native English also reflects no differences of gender. To my utter astonishment, he readily conceded, in a very gentlemanly fashion.

    Rehearsal, 1997. Left to right: A. Wesly, K. Stockhausen, me,
    J. Babinec, P. Veale, N. Janssen (sitting)


    Now I am starting preparations for the flute solo Paradies from Klang, which we plan to premiere in its (all 21 hours) entirety. This has me looking back on those days 12 years ago. Stockhausen is no longer around to gently concede to my cultural baggage, so I will not have the chance to thwart his intentions in person, but would I want to? It would just seem disrespectful at this point. Besides, I look back on my objections of 12 years ago and find them a bit silly. Americans are so gung-ho gender blind, but I don’t think females do any better there than in Europe. In Europe it feels more realistic: nobody tries to pretend that men and women are alike.

    My point is: I’d think twice now before trying to turn a composer’s intention around. My objections may be parochial and egocentric, and have nothing to do with the real quality of the music. The composer’s intentions might also be parochial and egocentric, but, well, it’s their piece. If I want to express something else, I’ll write my own piece.