Last
month, I celebrated a fairly significant birthday: my fiftieth. It’s hard to
imagine myself reaching such an age! In my mind, I still feel like I’m just a
kid starting out in my career. Yet, the calendar and the body of work I’ve completed
thus far, point to a far different reality. (All the grey hair contributes as
well.) As we are all wont to do at the beginning of a new year, I find myself
indulging in a bit of reminiscing concerning the year just ended as well as
feeling charged with anticipation as this new year dawns. However, given my
thoughts concerning my birthday, this reminiscing and anticipation double as a
time to also indulge in a bit of assessment of where I stand in my career. What
does 50 look like for a composer?
Trombonist Jon Whitaker and yours truly at a recording session of my work, Tonoi VIII. Summer, 2012 |
My
motivations for writing music are, I suspect, similar to many other composers.
I feel a deep desire to create art and share it. I would be a liar if I did not
quickly add that there is a part of me that longs for recognition for my work.
This recognition typically means a trophy case brimming with all the awards
that everyone desires bearing names such as Grawemeyer, Pulitzer and Guggenheim
among others. Recognition also means a reputation such that major ensembles and
performers are seeking me out specifically for commissions that – of course –
pay well. If you add reams of positive reviews, the picture is complete.
So,
at 50, how far away am I from all of that? As it turns out, I find myself at
once tantalizingly close and hopelessly far away from these benchmarks of
“success.”
When
I first left graduate school at age 30, I had hoped that by age 50, the major
commissions and prizes would have already begun to accumulate. After all, I was
heading out into the world with a real head of steam. I had graduated from some
of the top schools in the country and already had received a commission by the
Cleveland Orchestra for a small work (thanks entirely to my great mentor,
Donald Erb). My career was to be an endless series of opportunities yielding
success after success with only the occasional flop to break the monotony.
Yours truly pictured with fellow adjudicators, performers and composer finalists for the Atlanta Chamber Players Rapido Composition Competition. Fall, 2012 |
Things
did not turn out that way. At 50, the big trophies (Grawemeyer, Guggenheim,
etc.) still elude me as do commissions from the “Top 10” orchestras. I write
music as often for free as I do for money and my national reputation, such that
it may be, teeters constantly on the brink of non-existence. Successes are the
exception to the rule and are what break a monotony of rejection letters. I
often think back on a review that was printed online back in 2010 after the
performance of a solo viola piece of mine. After complimentary remarks about my
music and its performance, the reviewer concluded by musing, “After every Demos performance I
scratch my head and wonder: Can he push himself to the next level?” At age 50,
it’s question that haunts me and one that I cannot presently answer.
L-R: Composers Robert Scott Thompson, Charles Knox, Mark Gresham, cellist Craig Hultgren, yours truly & composer Roger Vogel after a concert. August, 2012 |
If I am not at the “next level”
yet, it certainly isn’t for lack of effort. I try to take advantage of every
opportunity that comes my way and enter almost every contest that is still
available to me. As these can be relatively few in number, I often create my
own opportunities. Nevertheless, more and more, I have a gnawing concern that
the train has long since left the station. In a society obsessed with youth,
the 50 year old might as well be 150. Glance at any listing of contests and
opportunities and most are for younger (under 30) “emerging” composers. How
long does it take to emerge anyway? When going down this path of thought, I
easily despair that I am hopelessly far removed from the benchmarks of success
set in my ambitious youth.
L-R: Yours truly, Director/Writer Gregg Russell, Vickie Russell, Producer Scott Mills at a pre-screening of the film, "A Free Bird." |
Yet this line of thinking is the
height of self-indulgence. If you take a look at the photos I have included in
this blog entry (all taken within the past year), it becomes easy to observe a
career far removed from the pitiful portrait I sometimes so earnestly paint. It
is true that I am nowhere near the level of success I expected for myself in my
youth. This is an honest assessment. It is no less honest, however, to admit
that the news is not all bad. The photos presented within this article show a
composer with wonderful musicians committed to playing his music. They show a
composer sought after as adjudicator and a composer seated with an independent
film director/writer and film producer at the prescreening of his first movie
score. These pictures do not even include the work I recently composed for the
Charleston Symphony Orchestra, my residency as a Fellow at the MacDowell Artist
Colony and my collaboration with the Atlanta Ballet (the latter two of which
have been well-documented in this blog). Sure, it is not a Steven Spielberg
movie or commission by the New York Phil but for Heaven’s sake – what do I
want? Am I to be constantly regretful because the amazing opportunities I have
had to date do not rise to some impossible self-expectation? The fact is, I am
always very close to pushing myself to the “next level.” My years of experience
and opportunities to date have positioned me perfectly to take advantage of
such an opportunity to rise if that is God’s will.
If it isn’t – so be it. I still
enjoy a career as a tenured full professor at a very good School of Music. I
have my music performed regularly and continually have the opportunity to
create art and share it. Even my “trophy case” is not as bare as I sometimes
think it is. The lack of so-called “major” awards in no way diminishes the
lovely recognitions that have been bestowed upon me and adorn my case. Maybe
that “next level” will be the realization that the journey is more important
than the trophy case, anyway. Less longing for what I don’t have and much more
appreciation and gratitude for all I do possess is the next level I really want
to attain.
So what does 50 look like
for a composer? All in all, pretty damn good for this one.