Blogging The Origin: First Rehearsals

by tristero

It’s been a busy few days here in Oswego< NY. On Sunday, I heard both a chorus and a separate orchestra rehearsal. It was the first time I had heard most of the music for The Origin live.

When I write, I use specialized software to compose. I usually compose in a program called a sequencer, in my case, Digital Performer. This software is the modern a-go-go version of a player piano roll. You sit in front of a computer hooked up to a piano-style keyboard and play your music into the computer. Like a word processor, you can edit, move around, and munge in all sorts of different ways the music you play. The possibilities are literally endless, and it’s addictive.

The sequencer itself, however, doesn’t make sound, it simply plays them. But what does it play? Since I was writing for orchestra and chorus, I used a large collection of sound samples that reproduce each and every orchestral instrument as well as vocals. To oversimplify the process of sampling, every note playable by an instrument – say, a flute – is recorded separately. These samples are then mapped via special software so that when you play, say, a G on your keyboard, you hear a flute play a G. It sounds exactly like a flute, because in fact, it is a flute. Naturally, there’s more to flute playing than just playing a single note and modern sampling technology has various clever ways to create a musically convincing performance (if you don’t listen too closely). A typical set of orchestal samples has hundreds if not thousands – if not tens of thousands! – samples. And, if you are writing for orchestra, you can, on your desktop, get an extremely good sense of what your music will sound like when played live.

Still, there are unknowns. No software, at least not yet, can give a sense of how difficult a piece of music will be to play. Composers, as part of their training, learn how instruments work, what their strengths and limitations are, but of course, the skill level varies with each individual player. When you’re writing for orchestral violins, you can’t assume that every fiddler can play the Brahms Violin Concerto perfectly; you need to write a less virtuosic kind of music. All of this – and much more – we take into account when composing. Our training is such that we internalize all this information about the instruments and simply write.

The choral rehearsal went exceedingly well. They had done a few pieces last year at a preview, but most of it was new to me. They had been rehearsing for all of the previous semester and they sounded quite lovely. “The Doctrine of Malthus” was suitably dark and ominous. It’s about Malthus’ theory that more individuals are born in each generation to an organism than can possibly survive. Darwin’s encounter with Malthus provided him with the key insight that led to the finalization of his theory of evolution by natural selection. It is both an important scientific theory and somewhat creepy. The chorus got it. Conductor Julie Pretzat and I had the luxury of tweaking the articulation of the words in nicely obsessive detail. They will sound terrific during the performances.

The orchestral rehearsal also went well. As is common, the orchestra first sees the music they will play about a week before the performance and, at the first rehearsal, are reading the music at sight. With a piece of new music, there are two sets of potential, and unavoidable, problems that crop up at the first rehearsal.

First, there can be errors in the parts. Music notation is a written language that has been developed over 1000 years. It is very sophisticated and detailed. Errors are inevitable no matter how careful you are (which doesn’t make them any less embarassing for the composer). And every error slows down rehearsal to a crawl, the last thing you want to have happen at an expensive orchestral session. Fortunately, we had gone over the parts pretty carefully; we found less than 20 mistakes in over an hour and a half of music, something of a personal best!

The other main problem is style. Every different kind of music – baroque, rock, jazz, medieval, etc – has very specific ways that notes and phrases are shaped. The only thing more embarrassing than Michael Bolton trying to sing “Nessun Dorma” is an elderly flute virtuoso rocking out on Scott Joplin rags. (I speak from experience here.) In the case of a completely new piece of music, the players literally have no idea how the composer wants the piece to sound and feel. And despite the precision of modern notation, there is much you simply can’t write down. You simply have to stand in front of the orchestra and sing or play what you want. This is not for the faint-hearted.

The performance style I’m seeking for The Origin is really paradoxical. I want, like all modern composers, a precise, crisp performance. I want every detail heard and the tempos well-defined. But I’m also looking for a performance with a lot of wit, humor, passion, and personal expression. The tension involved in trying to resolve these contradictions makes for a truly exciting performance, I think.

The orchestra was enthusiastic about the music and really open to suggestions. Julie did an excellent job of taking them through the entire score – quite a feat, as there are a lot of notes for a first reading – and I must say I was quite pleased.

After a few hours of sleep, I was picked up first thing Monday by Mary Avrakotos, the head of our presenter ArtsWego, and it was off to Syracuse for interviews at WCNY. They’re doing a television documentary about The Origin and they wanted some comments from me to sprinkle throughout. They’ll also be attending rehearsals and filming the performances. Next, it was across the hall for a charming interview with Bill Baker on WCNY radio where we discussed Darwin and his decisive influence on the lucrative 19th century guano industry.

This kind of hectic schedule is typical for any kind of major performance, and I thrive on the excitement. My health, however, is still shy of 100% so I have to be very careful. I was given a suite with refrigerator, microwave, and hotplate in it and the motel is literally half a block from the Mustard Seed, a terrific health food store, so I’ve been cooking up an organic storm and taking it very, very easy. So far, so good, but there’s a nasty stomach bug floating around – the last thing I need – so I’ve been given strict orders not to hug anyone.

I”m writing this in the breakfast nook while I wait for the women from Kitka to amble in. We have a rehearsal at 10:30 AM in the bar here at the EconoLodge (The Steamers Bar and Grille”) and I’ll get to hear some of the most unusual and risky music in the piece, including “The Voyage of the Beagle” and “A Taste for Collecting Beetles.” More to follow.

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