1260 North Weatherly Drive

I was fortunate enough to take a trip to Los Angeles, California, recently - my first trip to California - and had a long list of things to see.  The Getty Center? Sure. Universal Studios?  Okay.  Grauman's Chinese Theater? Check.  But do you know what was at the top of the list? The one thing I wanted to see above all else?  This quiet two-bedroom three-bath home on a hill in West Hollywood.

This, Ladies and Gents, is 1260 North Weatherly Drive, once home to Mr. and Mrs. Igor Stravinsky.  That's right - the greatest composer of the 20th century and my favorite composer and chief influence lived and worked right here.  My favorite opera, The Rake's Progress, was written within these walls, as were countless other masterpieces.  This is the headquarters for the mid-century musical avant-garde.  Igor probably entertained W. H. Auden, Toscanini, and Oscar Levant right on that balcony.

The house is off the beaten path, but is throwing distance from the famous Sunset Strip, where bands like Motly Crue and Guns N' Roses were discovered at the Roxy, the Viper Room, and the Rainbow. It's minutes away from the spot where Andy Kauffman first took the stage and where River Phoenix shuffled off his mortal coil.

Of course, it's still someone's house, so I didn't get to spend a lot of time there.  I found the house, got out of the car, snapped two photos through the iron fence, and got out of there.  I didn't see any activity, and I'm not sure the owners even know the importance of their address.  I didn't want to bother anyone.

A few days later, I sought out another important address: 6340 Hollywood Boulevard (between Ivar and Vine).  It's the location of a burger restaurant, but I was more interested in what's just outside.

That's right - he has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.  In fact, Igor is the only classical composer to have a star on Hollywood Boulevard.  Suck on that, Beethoven.

I saw other stuff in Los Angeles and had a great time, but these stood out as two major highlights in an exceptional week.

A New Opera

I'm proud to announce that I've started in earnest on my second opera!  It will be called "Heart Mountain" and, like my first opera, "Mata Hari," it will be an original story based around historical events.

What about the first opera, you ask?  Well, it seems I was a little too ambitious with that one.  It's a big three-act production with lots of roles, a chorus, and a big orchestra in the pit and no opera company wanted to/was able to risk the expense for a brand-new, untested opera.  Their loss.

So I've planned this new opera to be the complete opposite in nearly every way:

Mata Hari: 4 main roles, 6 minor roles, plus a chorus (20 singers total)
Heart Mountain: 4 singers total

Mata Hari: 35 to 40-piece orchestra in the pit
Heart Mountain: Piano, 'Cello, Clarinet, all on stage with the singers

Mata Hari: Three acts, two hours
Heart Mountain: One act, 60 minutes (80 tops)

Mata Hari: Three sets
Heart Mountain: A wall.  Otherwise, no sets.

Mata Hari: Declamatory style, with singing throughout. Basically a sung play.
Heart Mountain: A "number" opera with some talking between songs. The same idea as "The Magic Flute"

My idea is to make it as economical as possible, with only eight to ten people involved: four singers, three musicians, a director, and one or two technical personnel to handle lighting and stage manage.  I'm writing the clarinet part for myself and it's possible that one of the singers or musicians could direct.  Or the director could be a stagehand.  It's something we could bring to schools or to the Cincinnati Fringe Festival in a few years. My hope is that Heart Mountain will open some doors that will lead to Mata Hari getting produced.

So far, I've done a lot of research, created the story, planned everything in an outline, and have written the introduction music and one of the songs.  Instead of polishing the libretto and then adding music like I did with Mata Hari, I'm going to write the music and lyrics together, letting one inform the other as I go.  I've only just begun and I'm a long way from finishing, but the first steps in a very long journey are laid out and I'm on my way!

Violet's... 100 Meter Dash?

I found this video of Violet's Tango on YouTube recently:

JEEZY CREEZY!

Was the building on fire and they had to get through the piece as fast as they could before they evacuated?  Why in the world would you take this piece at breakneck speed?  It's a tango  - it says so in the title, for goodness sake.  A tango is a dance that requires a moderate tempo.  There's no way anyone could dance to this tempo.  Besides, I clearly wrote a tempo marking right there in the music:

Moderato.  As in "moderately."  As in "not fast."  Clear as day in black and white.  I even specified a metronome marking just to be even more clear - 120 beats per minute.  Consider that a speed limit sign.  This conductor was doing the equivalent of 70 in a school zone.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: just because you CAN play the notes fast, doesn't mean that you SHOULD play fast.  When you take music - especially dance music - too fast, you lose all the nuance and emotion, and you waste the opportunity to give the music expression.  Violet's Tango is a character piece with bold contrasts, nuanced harmonies, and a sly, flirtatious style.  All that is thrown out the window when you plow through it like a panicked cheetah.

When you race through a piece like that, you're not only playing it wrong, you're showing disrespect for the music, your audience, and your own growth as a musician.  So I once again beg conductors and orchestras everywhere: please please please please please pay attention to the tempo markings.  I put them there for a reason.

It should sound like this. 

New Submissions

It's that time of year again!  I just got back from the post office where I shipped nine new pieces of music and a CD to Alfred Publishing for consideration in the 2012-2013 String Orchestra catalog.  My fingers will remain crossed for approximately the next three months while I wait to hear back from the selection committee.

This year I sent in nine original pieces, none of which were re-submissions.  Three beginner pieces, three intermediate-level pieces, and three advanced-level pieces and a good mix of styles and keys.  My hope is that by giving them a broad range of music to choose from will increase my chances.  In the past, they've chosen one piece from each ability level and each of a different style and .  Here's what they chose last year, for example:

Sneaking Suspicion: beginner level, minor key, all pizzicato, scherzo style
Storm Trail: intermediate level, minor key, unusual time signature, "Gauntlet-esque" style
Star of Valor: advanced level, major key, part independence, shifting, heroic style

I have a few favorites among this year's submissions, but I'm proud of everything I've done and would be happy just to have something selected.

Saga of the Broken Arm

I haven't written in a while, but I have a good excuse: I was in a serious bike (as in "bicycle") accident and have been mostly out of commission.  I'm much better now, but here's how it went down:

April 5: The weather was nice so I decided to go for a bike ride in the park. My neighborhood links up to a great local park with a hike/bike trail, but I didn't even get that far.  On the little sidewalk that connects to the trail I took the hill too fast and hit my front brake harder than the back brake and tumbled forward.  My right elbow hit the pavement with my full weight.  I was sure that my arm was dislocated.  I managed to get to my phone and call the Parents, who live only a few miles away.  They found me and got me to the hospital, where I was drugged up, gave my medical history to at least four people, and got some x-rays taken.  After about three hours a doctor finally came to talk to me.

"Pieces.  It's just in pieces."

The force of the impact had shattered my humerus (upper arm bone) just below the ball socket.  And it was also dislocated. The muscles, tendons, and surrounding bones were fine, but the one bone was shattered.  Unfortunately, because of the location, they couldn't set it, cast it,  or really do anything but put it in a sling to immobilize it and give me lots of pain meds.

By the way, I've not seen the x-rays to this day, as I have a tendency to get queasy and black out at such things.

April 6: I went to see an orthopedic surgeon, who told me that I would need an operation.  he said it would be a very routine outpatient procedure and I'd be home before noon on the same day.  Unfortunately, he needed to wait for the swelling to go down, which means I'd have to walk around with a broken arm for a week. Upon hearing the news, I nearly passed out. 

April 13: Early morning surgery.  Before taking me in, they gave me four shots in my neck to numb the arm.  It was not pleasant.  The anesthetic really did a number on me and it took all day to wear off.  By 9:00 PM the feeling was returning in my arm and thus began The Most Horrible Night Of My Life.  The pain was relentless and no dose of percoset could stop it.  The pain was so much that the percoset didn't even knock me out like it usually did.  The next few days were better, but then, anything else would be.  To close the incision that runs from my armpit to the top of my shoulder, they used staples.  Literally - metal staples.  Thirteen of them right in my skin. 

April 19: Follow-up appointment with the surgeon.  We took more x-rays and I actually looked at this set.  They had pinned the shattered bone together with a metal plate and nine screws.  It's an impressive piece of engineering. At this point I was doing fine - until they decided to remove my staples.  The nurse got about nine of them out before I started to pass out. 

That same day, I signed up for physical therapy and have already had three sessions.  My therapist gave me a bunch of exercises and I've already seen some improvement.  I can now get dressed by myself, tie my own shoes (all of which are major improvements).  I cannot sleep in a bed, drive a car, put on a t-shirt, or reach above shoulder-height, but it will come.  I may never do yoga or swim freestyle again, but I'm working towards conducting and playing the piano.  It's a slow process, but I'm improving every day.