Fifth in a series on my collaboration with
the Atlanta Ballet.
The
premiere of Pavo is only seven days
away. Since posting my last article, I have made some tweaks to the score based
on feedback from Tara and have attended two very productive rehearsals with the
musicians. Today, dancers and live music will be put together for the first
time. Ironically, I will be waiting for texts, phone calls or email messages to
learn how rehearsals went. The same goes for the actual performances
themselves. This is because I am writing this blog entry from the serene beauty
of the MacDowell Colony in Peterborough, New Hampshire. I will not complete my
residency here until after all five
performances of Pavo have taken
place.
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| The fabulous musicians of Pavo: (L-R): Jan Berry Baker (sax); Michael Celbuski (perc.) & Charae Krueger (cello) |
How
is this possible? It is simply a result of timing. My commission from the
Ballet came after I had already been awarded the Fellowship and residency. I
will write about my experiences at the MacDowell Colony in a later blog entry.
For now, I thought I would touch on something that I have rarely discussed in
this series: the actual music for Pavo. In past articles, I have commented
on issues of collaboration as well as developing a dramatic narrative and theme
for the piece. I have been keenly aware throughout the process that music is
not the central aspect of the work.
People are paying money to see wonderful dancers, breathtaking choreography as
well as beautiful costumes and set design. Yet, without the music none of the
above would be possible. I’m reminded of the comic scene in the film Amadeus (1984) where Emperor Joseph
II attends a rehearsal of one of Mozart’s operas. Mozart had written a scene
incorporating ballet expressly against the wishes of the monarch. Instead of
cutting the scene, the composer instructs the dancers to perform their
choreographed steps in utter silence. The perplexed emperor looks on and asks,
“Is it modern?”
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| Our incredible D.J., Jen Mitchell |
Clearly,
the music is important. For this particular work, the music is also unusual in
two basic ways. The first has to do with instrumentation. I began work on the
score with an ensemble largely selected by Tara. Coming from a background of
dance, Tara was not tied down to established chamber music norms. We were given
a budget to accommodate four performers and Tara simply selected instruments
that were attractive to her. She had some help by visiting my website and
hearing some of the chamber pieces I had written prior to this collaboration.
This is how we arrived at the unusual combination of saxophone (soprano
doubling on alto), cello, percussion and, most intriguing, a D.J.
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| Detail from the score. |
Luckily,
I had written a short piece a few years ago for clarinet, violin and D.J. so I
had some inkling of how to proceed. The trick is in writing music that can
exist on top of electronic dance tracks and feel as though it belongs with the underlying groove. As I
wrote lines for the instruments, I had to imagine how they would interact with
more complex grooves underneath. I trusted that Jen Mitchell (our D.J.) would
be able to select tracks in the same key centers as the music I was writing. That’s
why I like working with a good D.J. like Jen. She is used to matching tracks
based on key and is also able to adjust tempi as well. In short, D.Js. like Jen
have to use their ears as well as any “traditional” musician. However, there is
more than simply matching tempo and key center. The grooves have to allow space
for the instrumentalists. Otherwise, the piece could feel like poor karaoke. This
issue was solved by writing music in the upper ranges of the instruments and by
Jen’s careful selection of tracks with a deep bass and little high resonances
on top to interfere with what the instrumentalists were doing.
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| Tara follows along & keeps us on track during rehearsal! |
Another
issue we encountered had to do with the phrasing of musical ideas. I usually do
not write music with phrases that are symmetrical. Because virtually all
groove-oriented music is in recurring 4 or 8 measure phrases, my instrumental
lines continually move in and out of phase with the tracks. The underlying
tempo remains constant but the resulting combination feels like a very hip
hemiola. Fortunately, the dancers in the company are all very hip themselves
and this phasing does not throw them off!
The
other non-traditional aspect of the piece is its overall structure. As
mentioned in some detail in my last article, the dramatic narrative of Pavo demanded a five-movement scheme
played continuously without pause. There is nothing unusual about this. What is
a bit non-standard is the fact that the more energetic music, including the
aforementioned groove-oriented combination of D.J. and instrumentalists, occurs
in the first half of the 18-minute
work. The piece concludes with a slower, lyrical section. Typically, music is
not structured moving from fast to slow. More often, it is exactly the reverse.
I must admit to feeling a bit of pressure to write music powerful enough to
make for a satisfying ending. After hearing the computer realization of the
piece for the first time, Tara was quick to point out that this structure works.
I’m grateful for her confidence.
Composing
Pavo and working with Tara has been a
uniquely positive and exhilarating experience. More than that, it’s been a
distinct pleasure. I think we’ve created good art and I have made new friends
along the way. This work is one of those pieces that, for me, pokes a little
bit above the others in my catalog. It’s a piece that has stretched me as an
artist and taught me how to be a more sensitive collaborator. I’m very
appreciative of the opportunity given to me by the Atlanta Ballet and their
Artistic Director, John McFall. It is a great honor to have been entrusted with
creating a new work with Tara and this distinguished company. At this point, there
is very little left to say, within the confines of this blog, about Pavo. Now, the rest will be said
onstage.
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