Composing as Self-Discovery
Recently I was asked to “come in” (aka log into zoom and fumble as I toggle between displays of scanned sketches and hitting “play” on iTunes, while cursing silently about why the sound isn’t playing, or why I can’t zoom in on my now magnified digitalized sketch, and oh, how to toggle on my Zoom HN4 [the audio device] between my piano mics and my device’s mics…) as a guest composer for a class with the University of Connecticut’s Jazz Ensemble, run by John Mastroianni, as well as Earl MacDonald, who runs the department. It was a fun time! The students were a very insightful bunch, and questions ranged from where a composer gets their ideas, to what to do when you realize your piece starts sounding like someone else’s (been there!), to what constitutes as jazz (which has been one of my [almost] life-long questions, and could comprise of an entirely different blog post, but to put it really short: I’ve cared less and less over the years if a piece of music fits into a “mold,” whatever that is, and more so about the essence of it, which is, as Duke Ellington would say, “Beyond Category”.) We did an exercise of recalling a vivid memory, emotion, or experience, and brainstormed how these ideas could be translated into music, starting from the vague/broad and gradually working into specific musical details.
For my presentation, I compiled a list of themes I’ve found essential in my composition/musical/creative journey up to this point. I find that most of these ideas can apply to just about any creative process as well:
Speak from your own experience- There is plenty of great music out in the world about the political situation, about the environment, about social issues. There is plenty of great music that swings and is great for dancing. There is plenty of great music that is abstract, “avant-garde,” or serialist. There is plenty of great music that is inspired by someone’s culture or travels. Creating music about any of these things is great if it “resonates” with you on a personal level. And if it doesn’t, there’s some other story you have that is just as important as the music that’s “trending” in the world right now. Find out who you are, and create music true to that. Perhaps it’s something really bizarre that fascinates you… maybe some very geeky sci-fi novel you grew up loving. Or maybe it’s a more esoteric experience you can’t quite put to words but can feel fully. Maybe it’s one memory in your past that really stuck with you. Or perhaps a struggle you’ve faced. Think beyond the category of “is it ‘traditional?’” or “is it edgy or avant-garde enough?” Think beyond whether what you write (or play, or create) will be a broad enough “universal” external message, or political or social enough.
Both feet in the present- You may hear “one foot in the past, one foot in the future.” Our only reality is this moment now. When we’re concerned with whether our music pays enough “homage” to the past, or whether it will usher in a newer “modern” era, we are not being authentic and open to our present experience. Everything we’ve experienced in the past (recordings we’ve come to love, what we’ve been taught, what we’ve liked and didn’t like, pieces we’ve learned, etc.) will naturally come through whatever you create without needing to focus on if it pays enough respect to the past. What you create… through your own authentic lens, will create something that has never been quite done before and therefore creates “the future” (whatever that is). Trying to chase either the past or future will always fall short of your greatest potential- the present.
Acknowledge fear, uncertainty, vulnerability, and it’s potential for growth- Sometimes the pieces we’re most afraid of writing, or the new direction we might want to take as a performer but are afraid to, or the new ensemble we dream of but then doubt of…. These often are our breakthroughs in disguise. And even if we eventually decide it’s not for us after trying, we still have gained a lot of growth and knowledge from pursuing these avenues. Often when we feel fear, we tend to run away, or stuff it, or don’t allow ourselves to feel everything we need to. But (at risk of sounding like some generic new age coach) this is usually a signpost to pursue exactly what fear to meet a need we may not be aware of yet.
If you are a composer, put your own band together now- The best possible way to learn as a composer is by experience: hearing your own work, and then obsessively ruminating about how you can more effectively and clearly get your message, your sound across. You can be told all day what a clarinet sounds like doubled with trumpet. You can study a score with a recording and get an approximate idea (in someone else’s context) what that sounds like. You won’t truly know until you just try it. I’ve had many “happy accidents” (accident?, of course I meant that!) just by being curious if something would work, sounds I now have in my palette that I use from time to time. And the ones that don’t…. Out comes the eraser…. Speaking of which…
Don’t be afraid to just catapult a few bars, a whole section, or even most of the piece out into the abyss to be eaten by Carrion Beetles- Many a time I’ve been stumped of how to finish a piece or write a section of a piece… all because I was in a dependent marriage with some delusional not-as-great-as-it-seemed brilliant section that HAD to be in the piece. Sometimes all it took was a [72 measures, getting rid of that section I spent days getting the voicings just right, re-doing the entire concept] little innocent snip, and now the piece had a chance to develop freely, to finally breathe.
That’s not to say it’s not painful… and I have yet to find it get easier.
