Alexandra Gardner | Building Noises

Well that’s just not my thing. I’m a serious composer.

This was a colleague’s comment following a performance by Kronos Quartet of Terry Riley’s The Cusp of Magic. Although I haven’t heard much of Riley’s music in recent years, this is definitely my favorite piece so far. So many elements that could go terribly wrong in other hands – the unabashedly ritualistic nature of the piece, the use of children’s toys in one movement – were handled with fluency and elegance, and performed by Kronos with their characteristic energy and virtuosity, not to mention heart and soul. It was, well…magical!

But apparently the toys in the movement entitled Nursery tipped this person over the edge.

I’m really serious about music. Every note has to be accounted for.

Sigh. I know where this is going.

It doesn’t matter that it was a completely appropriate and highly effective use of toys. It doesn’t matter that they made perfect sense within the movement, and within the context of the piece. It doesn’t matter that the toys were clearly not intended to be a frivolous extra just for laughs or entertainment…that section even turned creepy at the end. The musicians played the toys with the same focus and attention they give to their violins, violas and cellos. The toys were accounted for.

But nothing I say is going to change his opinion, because the world view of serious composition does not see music that is beautiful in this way as intellectually rigorous. And above all, there must be intellectual rigor, especially in the compositional process. Hence this serious composer’s distress.

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Last time I checked, music is ultimately about people. If it is going to exist in a performance situation, there has to be something there that creates a connection – a meaningful musical experience for people. Compositional processes that involve mathematics and engineering and predetermined structures and serial techniques or what have you can be incredibly useful and effective, but only insofar as they assist in the creation of something that Speaks. To. People. I’m not saying the music has to work for everybody, because that is unlikely, but it has to work for somebody. It’s when the process overshadows the end result that the Trouble begins. As many of you already know, the amount of Trouble is directly proportional to the length of the program notes.

This is not to say that I am not a huge fan of what is most definitely some serious music. Not at all. There are composers who can make it work. Ligeti can do it – I find his Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet to be off the charts delightful. Carter, in all of his gnarly glory, definitely. Berio, Boulez, Conlon Nancarrow… the list goes on. These composers are different for me because you can sense the – serious composers if you are even still reading this cover your eyes – spirit in their music. Intended or not, what they have to say resonates with others.

Did I mention that I am writing this on the train coming home from NYC, where I just recorded electric blue pantsuit with violin superwoman Jennifer Choi? This music pretty much has everything that will send serious composers running for cover: rhythm and pulse, melody (*gasp!*), drama… oh and the kicker? It was inspired by a – better close those eyes again – dream. Every note is accounted for because I absolutely, positively, wanted each note exactly where it is placed.

Seriously!