How do you compose music?

[Mandryka]

Are there any books, papers, blogs, diaries, letters I can read which try to explain just what goes on in someone's brain when they write a piece of music? What they think about, care about in their deepest selves?  I don't mean technically - I'm not interested in tuplets and stuff. And I don't mean materially - I don't want to find out about commissions or prizes or sponsors. I mean metaphysically, aesthetically, psychologically, semiotically.

The thing that made me ask this question is a paper I read about Pli selon Pli - an essay which looks at unpublished correspondence between Stockhausen and Boulez. It's interesting to me how much Boulez especially was interested in the world of ideas - philosophy, politics. And somehow, in a way which is far from limpid to me, ideas he found in Mallarmé and others just led him to a conception of what music can be. And anyway, while reading it it coocured to me that I have no idea how people compose music.

The essay I read is in a wonderful little book on Pli selon Pli published by Contrechamps. Hightly recommended.

[jochanaan]

In my experience, it's different for every person.

[Ian Moore]

I think it can change over time.  When I was quite young, I played everything on the piano.  But I became aware that everything was limited to my technique, the register, the rhythmic structure etc.. As I got a bit older, I realised that if I wanted to write more 'interesting' music, I would have to stop using the piano or any instrument. I would usually write the whole piece down in one go, or as much as possible.  Later on, as I began to study music, I made elaborate plans organise every single element of my music.  As time went on , I realised that I was generating much more music than I was using.  Then, I discovered more efficient methods of planning my music.  Currently, I make a detailed plan of how I am going to deliver the music and then write whatever comes into my mind largely based on those ideas (but sometimes I completely ignore the plan!).  In the end, it doesn't matter how you compose, it only matters what you compose.

[Mandryka]

In my experience, it's different for every person.

Maybe but has anyone written anything about it, letters, a blog that sort of thing. Something which maps out the thought processes?

Apart from the Boulez /Stockhausen correspondence, which is really what prompted me to ask,  I thought some of the things Luc Ferrari and John Cage  have said in interview are interesting. Cage especially on invention, being an inventor, on his ideas about the function of music.

[Karl Henning]

In my experience, it's different for every person.

Probably true.

I think it can change over time.

And quite probably ought to.

[Mandryka]

OK let me ask a question. Have any of the composers around here ever been led to their music by a picture?

I'm asking because of a comment Ferneyhough makes about Transit

The starting point for my work on this composition was an anonymous woodcut depicting a renaissance magus in the act of penetrating the last sphere separating the mortal from the divine, the contingent from the absolute. I adopted the structure of this rich image in two distinct but complementary ways - on the one hand as a "plan" governing the spatial layout of the instrumental and vocal forces at my disposal, on the other as a set of "operating instructions" influencing more or less directly the course and nature of the musical events and processes forming the actual fabric of the composition.

[Karl Henning]

Two members of my family are wonderfully talented artists, so visually, I am inspired all the time.

[Mandryka]

Two members of my family are wonderfully talented artists, so visually, I am inspired all the time.

And has it ever been anything like the way Ferneyhough describes? Like the form of the picture leads you to something formal about the music. Or the subject of the painting (in BF's case the magus's breakthrough) leads you to the way things happen in your music.

[Karl Henning]

I suppose I could, but I don't suppose I have.

[Karl Henning]

To be less elliptical . . . there was a time, either when 'there was a lot of that going around', or when I was hearing about that sort of thing fairly often. E.g., it was in a graduate composers' seminar at Buffalo that we heard Louis Andriessen discussing how he took the floor plan of a certain cathedral as a formal model for I forget just which piece.  And, I mean, maybe that's fine (and probably, one needs to get back to making music, i.e. making musical adjustments from the "extramusical mold").  The process struck me as a sort of "training wheels," and at the time I was already bicycling fairly confidently;  I was internalizing much of my compositional processes, and (not that any other composer might not benefit from the practice) I felt that for myself, such literal adaption would be peculiarly artificial.

My own manner has been, as I think of it, less "mechanical."  I contemplate the painting, resisting urges to reduce the experience to particulars, and over time get a sense of the visceral impact I receive from the piece, resisting urges to label specific emotions.  I then imagine myself with my clarinet, and consider, if I were improvising and I wanted to express this impression / these impressions, what might I play?

[jochanaan]

Rachmaninoff was often inspired by visual stimuli, most particularly in the cases of Isle of the Dead and the Études tableaux.

[relm1]

Are there any books, papers, blogs, diaries, letters I can read which try to explain just what goes on in someone's brain when they write a piece of music? What they think about, care about in their deepest selves?  I don't mean technically - I'm not interested in tuplets and stuff. And I don't mean materially - I don't want to find out about commissions or prizes or sponsors. I mean metaphysically, aesthetically, psychologically, semiotically.

The thing that made me ask this question is a paper I read about Pli selon Pli - an essay which looks at unpublished correspondence between Stockhausen and Boulez. It's interesting to me how much Boulez especially was interested in the world of ideas - philosophy, politics. And somehow, in a way which is far from limpid to me, ideas he found in Mallarmé and others just led him to a conception of what music can be. And anyway, while reading it it coocured to me that I have no idea how people compose music.

The essay I read is in a wonderful little book on Pli selon Pli published by Contrechamps. Hightly recommended.

I recommend you read this book, "Talks with Great Composers" which you can find here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Talks-Great-Composers-Conversations-Puccini/dp/0806515651 

This is basically a collection of interviews with Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Strauss, Puccini, and others circa 1890.  It discusses their working rituals and what the daily routine is like for them. 

I am a composer and also preparing a speech on this topic from my point of view in creating a piece of orchestral music that will have a performance after the talk.  We can share notes as I need more material but at this point from my point of the view, the process is based on strict schedules (such as an idea only phase, followed by a structure phase, followed by orchestration phase, then editing phase) with increasingly tight set of parameters.  I have an outline of the piece in my mind before I begin or notes drafted that explains it so you know how what I'm doing today fills into the greater piece.  Some days are successful and gratifying even though no new material is added because a problem passage might have been improved.  Once done, I try to compare the work to how it fits my initial conception and see if the conception needs to be revised or if the piece is not successful and needs further revision.  I tend to edit and revise quite a bit. 

[jochanaan]

...Some days are successful and gratifying even though no new material is added because a problem passage might have been improved...

I'm reminded of a quote from Brahms:  "Today I worked on my symphony.  In the morning I added an eighth note; in the afternoon I erased it."

[Mandryka]

I recommend you read this book, "Talks with Great Composers" which you can find here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Talks-Great-Composers-Conversations-Puccini/dp/0806515651 

This is basically a collection of interviews with Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Strauss, Puccini, and others circa 1890.  It discusses their working rituals and what the daily routine is like for them. 

I am a composer and also preparing a speech on this topic from my point of view in creating a piece of orchestral music that will have a performance after the talk.  We can share notes as I need more material but at this point from my point of the view, the process is based on strict schedules (such as an idea only phase, followed by a structure phase, followed by orchestration phase, then editing phase) with increasingly tight set of parameters.  I have an outline of the piece in my mind before I begin or notes drafted that explains it so you know how what I'm doing today fills into the greater piece.  Some days are successful and gratifying even though no new material is added because a problem passage might have been improved.  Once done, I try to compare the work to how it fits my initial conception and see if the conception needs to be revised or if the piece is not successful and needs further revision.  I tend to edit and revise quite a bit.

Thanks. I certainly will check out that book.

Tell me, the piece you're writing. What made you decide to do it? What inspired you when you were thinking about the outline?

I'm sorry if these questions sound jejune. I'm probably the least creative person in the world so I'm enquiring about an area where I have very little intuitive feel for what goes on.

[relm1]

Thanks. I certainly will check out that book.

Tell me, the piece you're writing. What made you decide to do it? What inspired you when you were thinking about the outline?

I'm sorry if these questions sound jejune. I'm probably the least creative person in the world so I'm enquiring about an area where I have very little intuitive feel for what goes on.

The piece I will be talking about has already been premiered and recorded but this talk is for an upcoming concert performance.  As part of the performance, I'll talk about the work in various locations (school, concert, etc.).  The piece is a space themed celebratory work.  Here is how I approached it.

The commission said it was a 10 minute piece.  That was the only parameter I had to start with.  Other than that, it could be whatever I wanted to write about.  Because of the duration, it seemed like a concert opener which implies a style.  It probably won't delve into the depths of existential questions.  It probably will be fairly exciting since it is a curtain raiser.  At 10 minutes, that isn't too long to have an intro, main theme, a contrasting theme, a recap that is bigger, and a coda/grand finale where I pull out all the stops.  I can draw this plan out as a chart on paper and see roughly anywhere in the piece what I want it to be like style wise.  But at this point, I haven't written a single note but I already have the structure in place.

I will then set aside time to get ideas where all I do is sketch ideas, they should fit within this general thematic framework.  Any of these ideas could be developed further.  Some fizzle in me and I don't return to them.  Some of these ideas go nowhere.  Some are good but wrong for the piece...perhaps they don't get to the point quick enough or they aren't memorable but I do like them...for another piece perhaps.  Then a spark happens...a catalyst.  Something where I suddenly know this is what I want to write about for the next few months.  In my case, it was the final launch of the space shuttle.  It reminded me of the excitement of waking up at 3am or so as a child to watch the first space shuttle launch.  I was deeply filled with hope, pride and nostalgia.  At this point I now have a specific expressive and thematic concept in mind about the piece.  I wanted my 10 minute piece to be about the spirit of adventure, courage, heroism and excitement that the space shuttle missions had meant to me.  Having this idea in mind also made me feel a certain customary homage in style.  It wouldn't be militaristic in a Shostakovich style.  It would probably borrow some sound expectations from John Williams, Holst, Jerry Goldsmith, etc.  I also felt it would have a feeling somewhat similar to Vaughan Williams's Sea Symphony.  The reason is because to me, that work is a perfect transcendence of exploration.  At the start, it is about the sea and the call it has to man throughout the ages.  But by the end, the sea and the horizon is really only a metaphor for reaching beyond our grasp and seeking to understand the unknowable.  It's a very fine work and quite deep.  I felt that was ultimately what my piece would be about.  The shuttle would be the latest in a long thread of exploration but at the time, we had just landed a rover on Mars that opened up further possibilities.  It felt like the end of one chapter, and a question mark to a new chapter of what lies ahead.  So that is what the piece is about and it grew to 15 minutes once an intro and extended coda were added. 

The piece was well received and I'm thrilled to say has been picked up by the California Science Center and is played every hour at their Space Shuttle Endeavour exhibit.  This is of course a huge thrill for me and one that I never expected. As it turned out, my home town became home to one of the five space shuttles.  This was unknown to me until the piece was completed so an extra bonus.  It also played part in the NASA JPL birthday party of the Mars Curiosity Rover.  All of this, I am extremely pleased with. 

So thank you for helping me write my speech.  Hopefully I answered some of your questions too!   

[Karl Henning]

The piece was well received and I'm thrilled to say has been picked up by the California Science Center and is played every hour at their Space Shuttle Endeavour exhibit.  This is of course a huge thrill for me and one that I never expected. As it turned out, my home town became home to one of the five space shuttles.  This was unknown to me until the piece was completed so an extra bonus.  It also played part in the NASA JPL birthday party of the Mars Curiosity Rover.  All of this, I am extremely pleased with. 

Congratulations!

[Cato]

Well, since I am now a composer of novels and short stories, rather than music, you might find the following valuable.

I stopped composing some decades ago, because the concentration and solitary time needed were no longer available for assorted reasons.

But the processes are similar: I sit down and the scenes or the dialogue or the sounds or the distant image or the vague other-worldly tones fall into place.  WHY I have the ability to do this mystifies me as much as those who have no such talent. 

At times a single word or an unusual phrase can become the "inspiration," similar to an impulse involving a particular chord, or suddenly "hearing" mentally a melody out of the blue, or the red, or the yellow!  Both talents mesh occasionally: while writing stories, I at times have felt the rhythm of a sentence, with the precise number of syllables and where the accents should be, without knowing what the content should be.

I became involved with composing microtonal music (eventually using quarter-tones in 19-tone scales), after hearing Supraphon recordings of works by Alois Haba, and the famous experimental piano pieces by Charles Ives, along with a few other things.  It did not strike me at the time, but I suppose I should have been surprised by an ability to hear quarter-tones accurately without any instrument, and by how quickly it arose.  At the time, it just seemed natural, a further extension of my ability to compose and accurately notate whatever came into my head.

So, how did I compose?  Besides the above clues, I often began with a melody of some sort, and then played around in my head with various counter-themes, atmospheric backgrounds, etc.  Eventually I became involved with a contrapuntal style using triple counterpoint, which would evolve to sextuple and then nonuple for climaxes.  Similar to my stories, the melody is not unlike a character in a story, and the character must be allowed to do whatever s/he wants to do.  The other melodies/themes/motifs (take your pick) interact and cause comedy and drama and anguish and ecstasy and chaos and piety and every other possible event.

Of course, a text has its own buried music, which the composer must use as a guide, rather than imposing something alien upon it. 

Has this helped? 



 

 

[relm1]

Congratulations!

Cheers, maestro!

[Mandryka]

Well, since I am now a composer of novels and short stories, rather than music, you might find the following valuable.

I stopped composing some decades ago, because the concentration and solitary time needed were no longer available for assorted reasons.

But the processes are similar: I sit down and the scenes or the dialogue or the sounds or the distant image or the vague other-worldly tones fall into place.  WHY I have the ability to do this mystifies me as much as those who have no such talent. 

At times a single word or an unusual phrase can become the "inspiration," similar to an impulse involving a particular chord, or suddenly "hearing" mentally a melody out of the blue, or the red, or the yellow!  Both talents mesh occasionally: while writing stories, I at times have felt the rhythm of a sentence, with the precise number of syllables and where the accents should be, without knowing what the content should be.

I became involved with composing microtonal music (eventually using quarter-tones in 19-tone scales), after hearing Supraphon recordings of works by Alois Haba, and the famous experimental piano pieces by Charles Ives, along with a few other things.  It did not strike me at the time, but I suppose I should have been surprised by an ability to hear quarter-tones accurately without any instrument, and by how quickly it arose.  At the time, it just seemed natural, a further extension of my ability to compose and accurately notate whatever came into my head.

So, how did I compose?  Besides the above clues, I often began with a melody of some sort, and then played around in my head with various counter-themes, atmospheric backgrounds, etc.  Eventually I became involved with a contrapuntal style using triple counterpoint, which would evolve to sextuple and then nonuple for climaxes.  Similar to my stories, the melody is not unlike a character in a story, and the character must be allowed to do whatever s/he wants to do.  The other melodies/themes/motifs (take your pick) interact and cause comedy and drama and anguish and ecstasy and chaos and piety and every other possible event.

Of course, a text has its own buried music, which the composer must use as a guide, rather than imposing something alien upon it. 

Has this helped? 

Magnificent post, thanks so much for taking the trouble.

[Mandryka]

It would be cool if you guys could post some links here, so I could hear (or in the case of Cato's stories, read) some of the work in question.