Thursday, July 30, 2026

Études d'exécution imminent (Preface), Another, J, Hail The Blest Morn - 2014

your blogger with pile of woodchips
In 2014 I finished the first eight pieces of what I felt would be a significant project for me, but which over the next six years or so would balloon alarmingly. The original impetus was to compose a response to Franz Liszt's Études d'exécution transcendante, but flip some terms to be about immanence instead. Of course, then the pun got the better of me and I ended up with the title Études d'exécution imminent. I really had no idea what the project would entail at first but knew that I wanted to work in mod-17 again, and that I wanted to work with the widest possible variety of interval types. In mod-12 arithmetic there exists a set of four-note groups (tetrachords) that contain each of the five mod-12 pitch-class intervals without duplication - the so-called all-interval tetrachords. There are no such structures in mod-17, so that option was off the table. Instead I generated a 17-tone row that arranged 4 transpositions of what would have been an all-interval tetrachord in mod-12 symmetrically so that they didn't duplicate any mod-17 pitch-classes, and stuck the missing 17th pitch-class in the middle.

Karen on Second Burroughs, Mt. Rainier National Park
I then notated that row on the top staff of a large sheet of score paper left over from my pencil score of A Cat's Life, following it with two transpositions such that the last note of the first row is the first note of the next. When completed I had three linked transpositions of that row. I quickly discovered an emergent property of the row: playing every other note (but skipping the middle "extra" note) resulted in chromatic scale (all half-steps), so that throughout the first pieces in the set chains of like intervals are clearly audible. I then subjected my three-row series to the 16 multiplicative transformations, which filled the page top to bottom. the seventeenth such transformation - M17, or M0 - generates a single pitch-class, and I had no clear plans for what I might do with that and saw no good reason to notate it anyway. 

This page of notes lived on my piano desk for the next 6 or 7 years while the etudes put themselves together. I started by writing eight pieces, one for each of the first eight series on the page, without much in the way of fancy thinking - I was just trying to make music out of the list of notes. The ninth series was the inversion of the eighth and the tenth the inversion of the seventh, etc. so it seemed like a good inflection point. I might have stopped right there - and I left that option open to myself -  but they eventually became the "Preface" to the completed project.  I decided to take a break, and thus began a self-imposed sabbatical from composing written-down music, during which I made a large quantity of solo improvisations on various guitars and other instruments.

Karen and your blogger, Mt. Rainier National Park
As it turned out I observed my sabbatical indifferently. During it I completed three compositions, independent of the etudes. The first occasion was due to an invitation from Open Space to provide something for Ben Boretz's Festschrift, in celebration of his upcoming 80th birthday, then in planning. My assignment was to respond to his set of solo piano improvisations from the late 80s that had shown up in the mail first as cassette tapes hot off the deck, and then later most of them found their way onto an early Open Space set of CDs, under the title One. Being heavily involved then in another solo piano project I decided it would be better, and liberating, to think in terms of clavichord. After assembling some musical material based on the opening figure of one of Ben's solo session, and fighting with it for some time trying to fit it into a single trajectory I eventually sorted all the separate elements into their own buckets and suddenly there it was: six perfectly fine little pieces. I called it Another.

It was at about this time that some ideas I had been entertaining about the most acceptable attitude concerning the social requirement for performers to follow a composers' score with strict fidelity became more clear to me. It seemed to me that not affording a performer of a score the same degree of creative freedom enjoyed by the composer in making that score was arrogant and bossy, which is not how I feel about what I compose. So what few performance indications I included are couched as suggestions, my favorite being "as an alternative, try not filling the clavichord with ping pong balls". I recorded several versions - two on clavichord (one with and another without ping pong balls) and one on piano. When I played it in public I used piano, since my clavichord doesn't travel.

Banned Rehearsal, Aaron Keyt, Steve Kennedy,
Neal Kosály Meyer, your blogger, and Karen
The other big piece, J, came to me pretty much all at once. I was attending a concert at the Chapel Performance Space in which local saxophone wizard Neil Welch was performing his tribute to those who had been so horribly killed at the nearby Cafe Racer some months before. My thoughts wandered to J. K. Randall, who had passed away quite recently, when I had a flash idea that I thought only needed to be worked out in notes on paper to be finished. In the end I had to make an adjustment to the pacing of one strand in order to not have that strand straggling off the end of the piece for another five or ten minutes, but otherwise stuck to the original flash idea. The material is conceived in mod-12 and consists of successively introduced strands of notes going down until they hit the pitch-class they started at, and then back up, via patterns of increasing intervals (going down) and decreasing intervals (going up). As the strands mix it up in the middle the plain as dirt workings of those interval patterns results in quite a fine polyphonic dialog. Ben remarked that it was among my most lucid of pieces, fitting as a tribute to Jim, who was among the most lucid of composers.

Banned Rehearsal following our
30th Bannediversary Outing
The last piece completed during my sabbatical is an arrangement of the hymn Hail the Blest Morn using the traditional tune, written for Karen to sing at a service during Christmastide. I also made a bunch of field recordings and revisited my 1985 Summer Songs project by re-working some of them using better recording equipment and overdubbing. I shared them on my Bandcamp page for a while but in the end they mostly reminded me what didn't quite work the first time either.

I also spent a good bit of time working up A Cat's Life again, and through Aaron's good offices found a young actor, Olivia Sterne, who nailed the narrator part. I presented it at a recital in April of that year, along the Doug Palmer's Attitude, Aaron Keyt's Sonata, and J. K. Randall's Greek Nickel #2

Aaron moved to the Boston area for a couple of years while his partner was at law school, so the Telepath project of Banned Rehearsal picked back up again after a 20+ year hiatus. But before that we celebrated our 30th "Bannediversary", with a concert at The Chapel.

Banned Playout:

2014:
Numbered 850-876 14:16:06
Telepaths 23-26 03:28:39

Total 2014: 26:55:00

Grand Total: 835:16:55

Scores:
Études d'exécution Imminent
Another
J
Hail The Blest Morn

Recordings

Études d'exécution Imminent (Preface)

Another

J



Thursday, July 9, 2026

Welcome to my planet. I come in peace.; Fourish for Jim; Luke 6:20-26 2012-2013

your blogger at Tipsoo Lake
The 30-minute piano solo piece Welcome to my planet. I come in peace. began life as an attempt to compose a setting of the Beatitudes as they are found in The Gospel According to St. Luke. The musical material quickly got out of hand for that purpose, but came together smoothly as a piano solo once I gave up on the words and let the musical idea loose. Probably the best way to conceptualize the composed-in structure is to imagine two trains, running parallel to each other but at different speeds. Each train has a differently measured cyclic pattern of windows, and we are watching from the side observing the rhythm of all those windows' intersections as they go by. The number of pitches in play, and consequently the complexity of the interval content accumulates methodically, so that the tonal feel increases in density and, I hope, referential depth, as the various trains of windows move past each other. As best I recall the pitch material was conceived in good old fashioned mod-12. The title arose out of a conversation Karen and I had at a restaurant one snowy Sunday after we had walked to church and decided to stop for lunch on our way back. I note that it could be read as a Gospel message, so it's not entirely off of its origin.

The only other piece I completed in 2012 was the brief Flourish for Jim, scored for 2 horns, written on the occasion of his passing. Jim was one of Karen's dad's brothers, and was an enthusiastic amateur horn player, as well as being a blast to hang out with.

In 2013 I revisited the Luke text, eventually ending up with a setting for vocal duet and piano, Luke 6: 20-26, that is considerably shorter than it would have been had I been stubborn enough to stick to the original pitch material. Instead I went with a loosely diatonic pallette that goes down well for use in church (I quipped that I had out-Ruttered John Rutter) - not overly flashy and not particularly edgy, but devious enough tonally and metrically to make it interesting to put together. 

Karen at Tipsoo Lake
I also wrote a setting of a text from the Chinook Psalter that had been used as a call to worship at a service at my parent's church in Langley, Washington: Sing a New Song of the Universe. I ended up not finding a way to set the text that was both easy enough for congregational singing and true to the text's irregular rhythms and stanza sizes. You can't win them all. 

I was also beginning to work on a massive project, that I will begin to discuss in the next chapter, but finding myself at an inflection point therein I started doing pretty regular solo improvisations, which activity continued for several years in various guises, and which I have taken to calling Sabbatical Improvisations. That project began as a method of becoming more comfortable operating guitars and such other fretboard instruments through unstructured improvisation, but then took on a life of its own, sometimes cutting improvisations in half and dubbing the two halves together, and sometimes playing with digital effects - your basic puttering around with sound files sorts of things.

I gave two recitals in 2012. "Greek Nickel and Change", given on June 23, consisted of Emily Doolittle's Minute Etudes (book one); Aaron Keyt's Bagatelles, J. K. Randall's Greek Nickel #1; and my 7 Cues Without Film and Sonata in 2 Movements. "Preludes in Seattle Part 4", given on October 10, consisted of Preludes 13-16 of Lockrem Johnson, Ken Benshoof, and Greg Short; Ken's Patti's Parlour Pieces 13-16; and my set of  24 Preludes. In 2013 Neal and I shared a recital on May 4. Neal played from John Cage's Solo for Piano, and I played Welcome to my planet. I come in peace.

And of course Banned Rehearsal and Gradus carried on steadily.

Banned Playout:

2012:

Numbered 805-826 12:06:29
Assembly Rechoired (one session) 00:32:25

Total 2012: 12:38:54

2013:

Numbered 827-849 13:16:03
Assembly Rechoired (one session) 00:31:01

Total 2013: 13:47:04

Grand Total: 808:21:55

Scores:

Welcome to my planet. I come in peace.
Luke 6:20-26

Recordings:

Welcome to my planet. I come in peace.

Luke 6:20-26

Études d'exécution imminent (Preface), Another, J, Hail The Blest Morn - 2014

your blogger with pile of woodchips In 2014 I finished the first eight pieces of what I felt would be a significant project for me, but wh...