Henning's Headquarters

[Guido]

I see. How time flies! I'd love to hear it again!

[Bogey]

As each Easter approaches, one of my Bible study groups reads through the four Passions, Karl.  Your music adds yet another layer of emotion to the events leading up to and through Good Friday.  Simply, thank you.

See PM.

   

[karlhenning]

Mulling, Bill. Will be back to you!

[Elgarian]

Listening to this piece a second time, I found myself curious to know, Karl, how the music comes to you? Do you have some idea like Elgar's, where it seems already present in the air, and you just take it? Or is it hard graft, nose to the grindstone, like hacking out number sequences step by step on a woodblock, until the thing is chiselled out?

[karlhenning]

Closer to the Elgar . . . more presently.

[karlhenning]

Referring to the Passion, Bill delicately asks:

What was it like, emotionally speaking, writing music to underscore this event?

Emotionally rich;  finding the right 'tone' for the music was a process of reflecting on Good Friday devotions in years past.  My setting was not going to be heart-on-sleeve dramatization;  but I did think about the plainchant Passion setting which had been in use at St Paul's for some 4-5 years prior . . . and while I appreciate the musical 'detachment' of singing the text of the Passion story to a plainchant Psalm-tone — and I was well content to utilize that musical method and dynamic in part of my own setting — the character of the traditional Psalm-tone we had been using is in major-ish mode, Lydian in bits as I recall, and one of my immediate thoughts was to compose my own Psalm-tone in the more 'keening' Phrygian mode.

It's not a very technical thing to say about the composition, nor does it offer a clear answer to the emotional question, but in some ways the overarching determinative musical factor for my Passion, was musical memory of a different component of the traditional Good Friday service at St Paul's:  the plainchant Psalm-tone to which we would sing Psalm 22 for the stripping of the altar at the service's end.

Emotionally, I did not need to micro-manage the narrative;  that was an aspect which I simply knew I should find ready as I got to that measure in the score, you might say.  Compositionally on the 'granular' scale, I felt that I would discover the right materials as I was embarked.  Compositionally from the architectural angle, I felt directly ready for most of the task, as I knew that I wanted to start out with a Psalm-tone (whose 'base form' I composed almost in a breath), that I would drive toward a Nuhro-like method for the Crucifixion, and that in between I would employ 'wrong-note-Monteverdi' polyphony for select passages, in a manner I had well explored in the Nunc dimittis which I had composed for the 2006 Evening Service in D.  With those 'structural supports' established, I expected that I could manage fairly improvisationally . . . and that if I just found the time to work, the work of composition would about perform itself.

As with many a piece I've written, I did some of the creative work on the bus ride to or from work, and if anything, in the case of the Passion, I found it even easier than usual to 'zone in' on the task.  Most of the chant and organum and polyphony modules of the first part, I had in place from 'commuter composing', when I set the task aside in (I think) August.  I was well ahead of schedule, and there was another composition or arrangement, or two, which wanted attention sooner.  Even so, the Passion must have been 'slow-cooking' in the back of my mind.

When in January 2008 I was vacationing, visiting friends in Florida, the environment was perfect.  My friends were most hospitable, and gave me plenty of space to do as I liked, and when I liked;  the weather was clement – clement even for Dayton Beach at that season, and so, in comparison to Boston in January, perfectly paradisal;  and my musical mind was, simply, ready to be focused entirely on the task of writing out the remainder of the Passion.  Although in my thinking before the trip, I had budgeted on the first full day in Florida as non-work, recuperative time, in the event, my spirit was already refreshed, and before the first day was done, I had finished up the chant section entirely, and I was now waiting at the foot of the cross at Golgotha.

Again, I did not especially concentrate on the emotional aspect, that was a matter of memory, and musically, I knew what tools I had selected for that passage . . . it wasn't nose-to-the-grindstone, nor was it unimpeded outflow:  it was something in between, looking at the palette, and knowing when I had found the right color, and sometimes, the slightly additional effort of blending two paints together for the right hue.

"Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit."

When I got to this point, I had not really considered what I should do musically.  The texture and the harmonies (or, the almost game-like means by which I arrived at the harmonies) just came to me at the time when I needed to write this passage . . . and yet, it feels to me as if all the piece before was written in order to arrive at this.  The Burial, too, emerged as a kind of improvisation (months before, I had probably thought no more sophisticatedly than that, I would continue to do 'something like' the Crucifixion passage — but of course, if I had done simply that, it would have grown wearisome, I should think).  So for me, in the writing, there was a special immediacy in my awareness of the task as I was fulfilling it, which I think has made something of an imprint on the music itself;  and the music always feels fresh to me when I hear it, because I remember how it did not occur to me, until practically when I needed to set it to paper.

[Elgarian]

I think that answers my question. I think .... Thank you.

[karlhenning]

Now at entire peace with the idea of an 'abbreviated' optional version of The Angel Who Bears a Flaming Sword . . . I sliced and diced, and a just-over-7-minutes version has emerged, which I think flows reasonably well.  It feels short to me, but of course, it would.

My thoughts are these:

1. Let the original version remain available;  you never know.
2. Hopefully, getting the 'abbreviated' version actually performed will get things in motion for the trumpet version.
3. I'm less anxious about the idea of the changes, since the piece as originally composed lives on in all events as a flute solo work.

More work tonight on Angular Whimsies, too.  Might actually get that close-to-finished before Monday!

[karlhenning]

Closing in on the end of the Whimsies . . . this morning's spot of work on the bus:

[karlhenning]

And, what may well be the final draught of the score:

[karlhenning]

This stretch of the bass clarinet part corresponds to mm. 174-205 of the score.

Working on Wednesday evening I wrote out both the rest of the bass cl, and devised a bongo 'dialogue' against it.  I made my way to the end, felt that the piece was largely done, but was dissatisfied with the effect of the last three-four pages.  It was not so much a matter of doubting the material, as wondering what adjustment(s) needed making . . . I felt strongly that I still had some work, but intuitively I felt that if I discovered the right path, I could erase my dissatisfaction with those pages, with efficiency of effort.

Essentially, I managed a series of tempo changes, added the 32nd-note gestures which are now interspersed through the bass clarinet's sustained notes in mm. 243-283, and either simplified or removed (the most radical simplification, I suppose) perhaps 5-6 measures strewn through the bongo part.  Those modest steps took me from dissatisfaction with the last four pages, to . . . well, I like it very nicely now.

I can own the piece ; )

[karlhenning]

It's something of a 'Debussy trick', but Angular Whimsies includes a bit of bass clarinet flair that I wound up getting some mileage out of.  I started with writing it just as a frenetic solo outburst (mm. 119-129).  Later, I thought it would be fun as a duet with the vibes . . . and I decided that I wanted a somewhat slower tempo, so that we can enjoy the intervals between the two, and the interaction of the timbre.  Even at the slower tempo (mm. 152-162) I think it gives a sufficient impression of exciting velocity.

I might almost have left it there, but then I thought that if the material comes back, with the bongos, it will practically sound new (mm. 285-295), and I get the compositional benefit that it neatly ushers in the ending.

The other (obvious?) benefit is, that the bass clarinetist practices that one passage (and, it will want a little practice, you know) and gets good use for that practicing time.

[karlhenning]

And now that Angular Whimsies is in the can, I can concentrate on finishing Swivels & Bops.

Almost immediately — while Peter Bloom and I were first rehearsing Heedless Watermelon — I knew I wanted to expand on the 'melon, and write a three-number suite for flute & clarinet.  The 'slow second movement,' All the Birds in Mondrian's Cage, came to me with gratifying rapidity.  Since then, it has been partly a matter of work on other things, partly an uncertainty that my initial sketches for Sw & B are really what I wish to do with the piece.

So I essentially started out anew this week, and I won't be long about it.  (Apart from my having rather a full weekend just coming up . . . .)

[Elgarian]

I can concentrate on finishing Swivels & Bops.

Can any piece of music possibly live up to such a scrumptious title, I wonder? This is one I want to hear!

[karlhenning]

Can any piece of music possibly live up to such a scrumptious title, I wonder? This is one I want to hear!

I shall assay it, and thanks!  Your post serves as a timely reminder, that more bops are wanted . . . .

[Elgarian]

more bops are wanted . . . .

Always.

[mahler10th]

Next thing we know...next Thursday night...

LIVE AT BOSTON SYMPHONY HALL
Sergei Slatkin conducts
John Adams - Shaker Loops
Karl Henning - Swivels and Bops
Sibelius - Nightride and Sunrise
with the Boston Symphony Orchestra

[karlhenning]

I did some writing on the train going in to Boston;  and later this afternoon, some more on the Green Line train;  and then some more in the North Station lobby.

These swivels are getting around.  I was careful to attend to some boppage, too.

[Elgarian]

These swivels are getting around.  I was careful to attend to some boppage, too.

It'll be interesting to see how you proportion the relative amounts of swivelment and boppage in the piece. I suspect it takes only one false swivel to set the bops in disarray. Likewise, vice versa.

(Sometimes, as you see, even I have to resort to technical language.)

[karlhenning]

Dude, that's cool.