Finishing the Hat

A Word about Words

2011-09-20T21:36:00.000-07:00

Yes, at the beginning of the summer I vowed to try rewriting the lyrics to a few pop songs on the radio. I felt like I couldn't publish another post without any "improved" lyrics to share. Then I remembered that lyrics are hard to write. It took the whole summer to get the lyric-writing part of my brain to work again. Now I'm pretty close to sharing a revised version of "Firework," but first I'd like to share why exactly a composer would care so much about lyrics. (And a thank you to whoever searches for my blog in Russia. You kept reminding me to get back on this blog.)

One of my professors in college told a story of Oscar Hammerstein II, of Rodgers and Hammerstein fame. After he wrote the lyrics to Jerome Kern's music on Show Boat, a woman stepped up to their wives and asked Mrs. Kern "Did your husband write 'Old Man River'?"

Mrs. Hammerstein spoke up. "My husband wrote 'Old Man River.' Her husband wrote "Da, Da, Dee-da...'"

Music is abstract, so when we praise or criticize a song it's easier to talk about lyrics. And indeed, lyrics can make or break a song. Good words compliment or elaborate what the music does. If written first they can influence how the melody shapes itself. Bad lyrics confuse, make us squirm, or feel embarrassed that we like a particular song. In short, lyrics can be just as musical as the music itself.

How so? For starters, Words are Yummy. The right word can affect you by its sound alone. In "Oh What A Beautiful Mornin'" The words sound so broad you feel like stretching as you take in a yawn from waking up in the morning. In Billy Joel's "Big Shot" the line "You had to have a white hot spot light" almost pierces you with it's t's, like somebody poking you during a big ol' reprimand.

The way words are used can add nuance to a song. Teddy Geiger once sang

Forgive me if I st-st-studder

From all of the clutter in my head.

Get it? Or how about "2 a.m." by Anna Nalick. The verses drive you forward unceasing, because

You can't jump the track we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass glued to the table.

And sometimes all you can do is

Cradle your head in your hand

And breeeeeaaaaathe, just breeeeeaaaaathe.

All of a sudden we're taking deep cleansing breaths, and the world slows down for just a moment.

Rhyming makes a song feel complete, and can also emphasize your main points. Back to "Big Shot", the line could have easily mentioned a "great big spot light" or even a "red hot spot light" for a little rhyme. Joel goes all in with white hot spot light. It's like he makes you stop and think about what you've done, young man.

How about "The Longest Time?"

I want you so bad
I think you ought to know that
I intend to hold you for the longest time.

Or "Make You Feel My Love?"

I'd go hungry, I'd go black 'n' blue,
I'd go crawlin' down the avenue.

There is a possible exception. You know the song "Breakfast at Tiffany's?" Never rhymes. Is that bad? Maybe not in this case. Everything else is strong--melody, rhythm, instruments. And it helps that they don't even try to rhyme. "Tiffany's" does not rhyme with "film" does not rhyme with "liked it" does not rhyme with "got." It's obvious they didn't want to rhyme, so they made sure it doesn't sound like they tried.

Emphasize the right syllable. I notice this most in Katy Perry songs, although most anything new on the radio will commit this crime. (Or maybe I listen to Katy Perry more often than I admit.) A very sad, touching song of hers began like this:

Comparisons are easily done
Once you've had a taste of perfection

Not only is the line awkward to say, but where is the rhyming? Just reading it you can't tell, but she sings it like this:

CompariSONS are easily DONE

Once you've HAD a TASTE of perfecTION.

Imagine speaking like that without anyone looking at you strangely. If I were to keep the melody as it is I could have come up with something more flowing like:

I find it easy to compare

Now my perfect love's no longer there.

That took me all of 60 seconds to think up. See how coherent it is? Do you hear the natural rhythm of the lines? Notice how it has the same idea as the line above but it doesn't sound like I forced it to rhyme?

I had to listen to Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now" a lot to make sure I liked it. It sounds so natural and lyrical you can hardly help but sing the melody just by reading the words aloud:

It's a quarter after one,

I'm all alone and I NEED you now.

The way it rolls and gains momentum till the word need. That's the emotional theme of the song. It's all about longing, so you can feel that desperation distilled in the way they sing just the word need.

Sometimes an unusual emphasis changes a song's meaning. When I first heard Adele sing "Someone Like You" I expected you to be emphasized, and thought Adele stressed the wrong word. Then I caught what she meant. The "You" in the song had moved on already, so she wants to find someone like you. Isn't that neat?

In everyday communication, how you say something is as important as what you have to say. And that's why I scrutinize the lyrics to the songs I hear. Lyrics are more than just words. They carry weight and power because they were chosen specially. Random noises are just aural garbage unless organized into patterns and directions, then it's music. And lyrics have no meaning unless the writer chooses the most appropriate, poetic words to string together. There are plenty of okay songs in the world that could be made better with stronger lyrics.

Good Good Songs

2011-05-26T13:47:00.000-07:00

Just because a song has a good (positive) message doesn't mean it's a good (quality) song. As a missionary for the LDS church I learned a lot about presentation. If our presentation was sincere, respectful, and exciting enough without being overwhelming, strangers were more likely to set aside their reservations and hear what we had to say. Too blatant, and we push people away. In the art world, anything created by an agenda becomes transparent. That's why blatantly political songs drive me insane. The artist is more interested in propaganda than in throwing a party for your ears.

The same is true for songs with a positive message. I get plenty of sermons every week at church--good ones, when I'm ready to hear them. I can tell if you're giving me a sermon when you compose, and most everyone else can, too. If you want me to subscribe to your philosophies or agendas then I need to feel them, not just hear them. I quote Orson Scott Card:

So much of Mormon art shows good to be bad! That is, it often shows goodness to be puerile, or impossible, or--heaven forbid--boring. A gooey G-rated film that reduces goodness to niceness does as much harm as an R-rated film that makes evil seem rewarding, since both will move an audience to shun the good and espouse the evil. (A Storyteller in Zion, Bookcraft, p.102)

I've talked already about a few recent attempts at happy songs that show room for improvement. So what makes a positive song appealing?

It needs to tell a story

I don't necessarily mean a narrative. There should be a defined situation and the singer should either relate the situation to us, or play a character in the story. Like maybe a best friend giving advice. A good example: "Tell Her About It" by Billy Joel. He gives pointers to someone else, hoping he doesn't make "the same mistakes I made." Now we know where the singer comes from, and what gives them the right to tell us anything.

A Positive goodness/badness ratio

Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings ends it's main conflict about 3/4 through the 3rd book. A lot of hardships go down up to that point, and Tolkien apparently wanted to emphasize how much better things became for Middle Earth and how much the journey was worth to everyone. Let there be sadness in the song, let it make the song interesting, but let the happiness or solution outweigh the problem. Think of "Hey Jude" by The Beatles. For every line mentioning sadness, pain, or fear there are at least 2 lines to cheer Jude up, not counting the 4-minute Na-nas.

Focus your energies

Let's go back to Billy Joel. His wrote a blatantly positive song called "You're Only Human (Second Wind)." It feels much more bland and generic than his other songs because he throws in all kinds of similes and topics at once. Beginning with someone coming down on himself for his mistakes, he talks about crashing into stone walls, boxing, heart break, and getting your "Second Wind." He could have condensed the song to wind metaphors to stick with the song's title. Toward the end he mentions catching his breath and facing the world. Maybe something about kite flying? waiting for the breeze to pick up so he can fly again? It would have felt more complete and coherent as a result.

Use religion sparingly

These days there are enough Atheists and skeptics who tune out at the mention of any Deity, especially Judeo-Christian. I don't mean to deny or shy away from what you believe, but use care in bringing up religion as the source of your beliefs. Too many songwriters believe you just mention God and the audience will come in droves to hear what you have to say. If I hear a decent song only to discover that it was sung by The Fray, I think twice about listening to it again. Same goes with religion for some people.

If God Himself is the subject of the song, then you're writing a religious song, rather than a plain positive song. That's a separate category altogether, with it's own set of guidelines.

If there are any more guidelines to add to this list, I'm all ears. I got an idea while I compiled mine, though: I've harped on songs before, picking them apart for what's bad, but I don't usually risk putting my own creativity on the line. If I can't do any better, why waste my time tearing something down? Coming soon, I will attempt to re-write lyrics of famous songs, in the hope of making them worth their fame.

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rain Clouds.

2011-05-09T07:41:00.000-07:00

I noticed recently that some popular music personalities are trying to uplift and inspire. I first noticed Katy Perry's song, "Firework" encouraging people to excel and dazzle the world with their individuality. Pink put out a song called, um, "(Something) Perfect" saying you shouldn't let anyone advise you to change anything about yourself. And Lady Gaga released "Born This Way," sending the message that there's no such thing as over-promoting a pop song."Born This Way" is a particularly odd piece of work because I don't think I've heard LG sing a song in a major key before. But all three songs helped me learn an important lesson: It's very difficult to write a genuinely "uplifting" song.

Songs written to promote a positive message are fun to mock. Modern religious songs in particular don't seem as catchy and poetic as angst and heartbreak. There's a stigma against a happy-go-lucky artist. Since most stories revolve around a conflict or unfortunate event, we assume a happy person doesn't have much to say. And I think that's one of the main reasons happy songs are so difficult: writers know that if you have an interesting conflict, you basically stay true to that conflict and the story helps you write itself. The same is true with music and other art. Take the conflict away, and you expose your talent, or lack of it.

In "Perfect," Pink wants to play a wise counselor but uses the phrase "Pretty pretty please," implying a teasing attitude, as in "Daddy, can I buy this jacket? Pretty please? I'll be good." It's hard for me to take the song seriously after that. Also, it's supposed to be a tender ballad, but she throws in the most coarse, over-the-top profanity in the song's title. I guess she wanted to preserve her tomboy image, but it doesn't fit the music.

LG (I just feel weird typing her full name) tries really hard to fill the world with love, but doesn't say much beyond what you'd see on a bumper sticker:

God makes no mistakes.
It doesn't matter if you love him or Him.
Don't be a drag, just be a queen.

Cute, but not very convincing to anyone who disagrees. Plus rhythmically her words don't quite flow: "I'm beautiFUL in my way, 'cause God makes NO mistakes." I could go on, but I don't want to give LG more attention.

That leaves Katy Perry. Her song has its moments, I'd say more than other songs I've heard on the radio recently. I like the way the music grows when she says to "ignite the light and let it shine." The lyrics are clear in their meaning, and one thought flows nicely to the other. I guess my biggest problem is Perry's voice. For a song about releasing untapped potential, she struggles to reach the highest notes. It takes me away from the message when the messenger can't quite deliver.

I guess it's easy to forgive "uplifting" songs because the subject isn't as interesting. But it also makes it that much more satisfying when you hear a well-crafted song with a positive message. This is where I compare apples to oranges.

I'll never forget the first time I heard Paul Basler's arrangement of Psalm 23, "The Lord is my Shepherd." It is unfair to compare a religious choral piece to radio pop songs, but I believe you can learn things from the Classical style and translate them into the Pop or Rock medium. If you listen to the video, it gets loud, so you might want to be ready to turn the sound down.

The conductor I heard performing described the mood as someone in their later years, or at the end of a big struggle, looking back and realizing how good the Lord has been to him. Even the line about the Valley of the Shadow of Death keeps the light on; rather than turning moody, the choir amps up the joy, saying "Oh, man, even in my darkest hour He's there!" There's also an obvious Gospel Music influence, adding dignity to the whole thing.

That's most likely why I try more to write music with a positive mood. Any artist can be tortured. Only the cleverest, hardest-working can pull happiness off.

Running out of time, so To Be Continued...

He Who Hath Ears to Hear...

2010-10-24T17:07:00.000-07:00

I didn't expect to get so sappy this early into my blogging career, but a couple of weeks ago I was treated to a type of music we don't notice most of the time. It's the kind of moment when the music you hear isn't strictly audible. My Bishop approached me one night as I was meditating in an LDS Temple on spiritual matters. He knew I was a composer, and that night he whispered, "This is the best kind of music, isn't it?"

One of the dangers music majors face in their first two years of study is the feeling that their favorite hobby is becoming flat and mathematical. They lose the concept that real music has an essence only describable in flowery language. Sometimes the essence included in a performance is so powerful that every finger slip, every clumsy note is forgiven.

The first time I heard such music I was sixteen. Visiting my family in Mexico, I went to church with them each Sunday. The pianist was absent one week, and the congregation sang A Capella. Everyone seemed to sing in a different key, and was out of tune in their respective key. But they sang because it was time to sing. It was beautiful.

The essence they added to the music they sang was a small part of themselves. As an example, think of the movieWALL-E. The voice of the ship's Autopilot (the steering wheel) was provided by a Macintalk--a computer-generated voice replicator. Zero personality, zero life in the lines it read. Everyone else in the movie had a variety of expression because of the mind and heart of the voice actor. Sound, at its core, is caused by vibrating the air. Vibrations caused by a lifeless object sound austere compared to vibrations caused by a living creature. The brain affects the vibrating we create very subtly depending on whether we're happy, hungry, or haughty. This is the part of a performance that separates a technically flawless performance from a deeper musical experience.

There was a talent show recently in my ward. Most people think of art when they think of talent, especially music. We heard quite a few songs, including an original by yours truly. I'll try to figure out how to post it on my playlist once I record it. I felt great about my performance, and I was also pleased by my Brothers of the Ivory who brought a good game to the stage. Seriously, anyone who tackles Piano Man, playing and singing exactly like Billy Joel, has got braggin' rights.

Then came the last act on the program. Let's call her Sara. Right before they called her name to go on, she dashed out of the room, stage fright filling her heart. Her two best friends followed her, and led her on stage. They stood on either side of her as she sang a song called "This is me" from Camp Rock. Each friend had one hand on her back. My ward understood what was happening and began to clap along, giving an ovation when she finished. Sara doesn't sing great. No doubt she feared everyone would laugh at her like many do out of Church. But her singing was not the music we all heard.

The image of her friends standing by her with their hands on her back drew my mind back to October 2007, when Joseph B. Wirthlin gave a talk on The Great Commandment to love one another. About seven minutes into his talk, I noticed his body shaking. A minute more and his back spasms appeared far beyond his control. Russell M. Nelson, a fellow Apostle and a heart surgeon, stepped up and steadied him as Elder Wirthlin finished his talk. A talk on love. He who hath ears to hear, let him hear.

Listen to the Music

2010-07-27T05:58:00.000-07:00

The following question is not a no-brainer: have you ever listened to music? Really sat down and focused your attention on the music you heard in a room? Did it make you want to dance or swell with emotion?

I had a creative music coordinator in my LDS stake in Logan. It's a very musical town because of USU's music department nearby, so the coordinator knew enough people to organize a string quartet--two violins, viola (a larger violin that plays a little lower), and a cello (Looks like a violin but is so big it is cradled between a sitting player's legs). Providing prelude music for a conference, they played hymns straight from our Hymnal, conveniently written in four parts. I was in the choir that conference so I sat behind the podium and soaked in this rare treat.

Then I looked into the congregation. Any Mormon keyboardist knows what I'm talking about. Congregations tend to view prelude like party music: pretty background for conversations with friends. Don't get me wrong, I love when friends greet me at church. And strings are often used as ambiance in movies and social gatherings. But how many church services in the world begin with a string quartet playing at the front of the church?

Most of us like music for different reasons. My friends used to like music with a "good bass" or "good beat." Some notice the songs with clever lyrics. Others are aware of the mood a song can put them in. I had a roommate that collected movie and video game soundtracks. He liked them not necessarily for their intrinsic qualities, but because they reminded him of the movies or games. He claimed that music didn't really mean much to him. I wondered how that worked, because he played a trumpet and even performed a solo once on sight in high school.

Many of us are a little practically-minded like that, and we enjoy music for extra-musical reasons. The words make us laugh, or it came from a great movie, or an old girlfriend liked the song (this happens a lot more than you think). A clarinet professor at college once said that when he hears a clarinet playing he focuses so much on the technique of the performer that he doesn't even listen to the music itself.

The most extreme case I've learned about comes from the book Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks. An anonymous case has amusia, a type of sonic color-blindness. Any music sounds like chaos to the patient. Her mind cannot make sense of the patterns of melody, harmony or rhythm. The only way she tolerates listening to it is in family gatherings. Her family is very musical, and when they gather they play together. Seeing the joy her family gets from playing together and enjoying the music together is satisfying enough for her. That's as close as she ever comes to enjoying music.

I think some of us are afraid to really listen to music. It's often in the background of an event, not the focus. To pay attention to it is a little unsettling at first because nobody's talking. But that's the point sometimes. Nobody to distract you from letting the music affect you, teach you, express something beyond words. Or, if it's appropriate, stop conversing with your posse and move to the rhythm of the music the DJ or band throws down. Tap your foot if that's all you can do. It can affect your soul for good. Listeners don't realize what an important roll they play in music. Without the audience, there is no art.

A few years ago I bought a DVD of a Christmas concert with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and The King's Singers. The definite highlight was Mack Wilberg's arrangement of "O Holy Night." I cannot accurately describe the piece except for what I felt. The song usually sounds very static to me because the notes in the melody hold their place for long stretches. But Wilberg added counterpoints and harmonies that gave motion and emotion to the music. Add the singer's and orchestra's performance, and nothing else in the world mattered. My mother was preparing Christmas desserts in the kitchen, not really paying attention. Just overhearing the music coming from the living room she had to stop baking and come sit. We both needed to rewind the song when it finished. That's what music can do.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: If a tree makes music in the forest and there's nobody around to listen to it, does the music even exist?

Of Course I Didn't Put a Ring On It...

2010-05-27T21:17:00.000-07:00

I was going to lay some groundwork for this entry with a few observations about song lyrics, but the issue I wish to discuss is becoming so urgent in my mind that there is no room for delay. I believe firmly in the dignity and virtue of women. There is a need in Western Civilization, if not in the whole world, for more positive female examples in the Arts. This need includes popular songs, a field in which females are often rewarded for exploiting their femininity. But the more I hear "Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)," the more insulted I feel that this song should be so popular as an anthem for anything.

That's right. I'm taking Beyoncé on. I may alienate friends or family, but the truth must prevail.

"Single Ladies" could have worked much better. The concept has potential, and the tune has some fun, exciting moments. It begins as the title says:

All the single ladies/Now put your hands up.

It's a rally. The phrases glide of the tongue. We're gathered today to celebrate the unattached ladies of the world, who don't need anyone's pity. The chorus is pretty good, too:

Cause if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it
If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
Cause if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it

I'll point out that "shoulda put a ring" hides a little rhyme, adding punch to the lesson for whoever dumped the girl. And I don't know if I would have thought of rhyming the line with "he want it." Sometimes it pays to stretch the boundaries of acceptable rhymes. Now what story do the verses tell?

Up in the club, we just broke up
I'm doing my own little thing
You decided to dip, and now you wanna trip
Cause another brother noticed me

Okay, she's back on the scene, being her pretty self, and caught someone's eye. She's getting someone jealous because she can get any man she wants now.

I'm up on him, he up on me
Don't pay him any attention
Just cried my tears for 3 good years
You can't be mad at me

This is where I begin to question. Revenge is good and all, but isn't she just jumping back in with someone after a three-year abusive relationship? Doesn't she want to enjoy her freedom for a while? She might make "All the Single Ladies" jealous at having landed another man so soon.

The second verse offers more of the same, but some of the words seem like filler:

I got gloss on my lips
A man on my hips
Hold me tighter than my Derion jeans
Actin' up, drink in my cup
I could care less what you think

Was it necessary to specify there was a drink in the cup? Do nuts or nachos get served in cups at night clubs? I was at a wedding reception and didn't have a glass for toasting the couple. I had to use the miniature glass at the table that was filled with M&M's. Maybe nothing serious goes on between two people at a club if they only eat nuts from a cup. As for "I could care less what you think," if you didn't pay attention in English class, you won't pay attention to me.

I need no permission, did I mention
Don't pay him any attention
Cause you had your turn
And now you gonna learn
What it really feels like to miss me

Yes, Beyoncé, you did mention it. I know you're trying to make things rhyme but it sounds like you've run out of things to say, or you aren't even keeping track of what you're saying.

Now the song gets pretty darn funny:

Don't treat me to these things of the world
I'm not that kind of girl
Your love is what I prefer, what I deserve

In the first place, is she addressing the same guy? The one who made her "cry her tears for three long years?" Why would she prefer/deserve his love? And why is she playing with some new guy when she still has feelings for someone else? The new guy will not be pleased that she's taking out her feelings on him.

In the second place, how did we get sidetracked into the song "Can't Buy Me Love?" She's trying to say she isn't worldly or high maintenance, but what does that have to do with the guy's lack of commitment?

Is a man that makes me then takes me
And delivers me to a destiny
To infinity and beyond

Does she sound needy to anyone else, wanting a man to take her and deliver her? Maybe she exhausted her boyfriend and she's looking for fresh meat to prey on. Maybe she's never stood on her own feet in her life. Quoting "Toy Story" in describing her romantic ideal suggests that she has some growing up to do.

Pull me into your arms
Say I'm the one you want
If you don't you'll be alone
And like a ghost I'll be gone

I thought she was already gone. She's in the club with a new guy. I don't think she's completely gotten over the breakup. She doesn't seem like such a strong example for "Single Ladies" anymore. What could have been a very biting vindication for women collapsed from a weak foundation in the lyrics.

There are healthier substitutes. I prefer "Someday" by Mariah Carey, or "Karma" by Alicia Keys. My Fair Lady had fun with "Without You" and still had room for the chauvinistic "Hymn to Him." Join me in finding more songs that Single Ladies can actually be proud to sing.

Favorite Song: Leningrad

2009-08-22T19:19:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, everyone, but it all goes downhill from here. You are about to hear my favorite song of all time. I am so fond of "Leningrad" by Billy Joel that I have often referred to it as my anthem. This song deals with family, friends, nations, war, and love, all within four minutes. Can you do that, Beyonce?

It sounds like an anthem, that's for sure. Especially the hymn-like piano chords. Right away Joel tells you that his song ain't no tender ballad. It isn't completely his song, either. That piano intro? Sounds like the theme to Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto #6, 1st movement. This is a song about a Russian, after all. Billy Joel was raised classically, and most of his songs actually follow classical harmonies and techniques. That does make some songs sound old, but it also shows that creativity isn't always about breaking the rules.

The verse melody ("Viktor was born...") is simple, focused, and gutsy. It's a beautiful mix of small steps and leaps. The leaps add power to the simple steps up the scale. "Go back to Hymn to Freedom" and hear a similar effect. Folk singers do this all the time, and it makes melody fun to sing. I'll also add that it makes Viktor in the song sound very innocent. He lives his Russian life as best he can, doing little harm to others.

By contrast, the bridge melody ("I was born in '49...") sounds more tense and fearful. The minor key takes us away from Russia to McCarthy's America. Adding a set of minor chords makes Viktor's melody more refreshing when it returns. The melody also uses lots of downward motion, contrasting Viktor's melody, that sounds rising. Billy Joel is careful not to harp on America, just on base fear and hate. The music demonstrates the difference between an innocent citizen and a fear of someone never met.

Perhaps the most clever part about the song happens at about 3:21. The music changes key--after the last verse. Who does that!? I mean, besides Ravel? It does a few things for me: It's like the song reached a conclusion and rose to a new view of the world. Plus, the whole song was very firmly trenched in the key of D, and every verse centered around a D major or minor chord. Changing keys at the end reawakens my ear, and it almost sounds brand new again. Plus, it ends in a key that sets itself up again neatly to be played over again from the beginning.

Of course, Billy Joel doesn't just write the music. His lyrics have a music of their own. Read aloud some of his lyrics and feel the fluidity. He likes to keep his consonants at a minimum to give the notes he sings their star turn. I personally love also to look for sound patterns in the words. Take the end of the second verse:

A Russian life was very sad
And such was life in Leningrad.

"Russian" and "such was" don't rhyme, they come close. Or in the last verse, When Billy Joel meets Viktor "eye to eye and face to face." He's not being repetitive; there's metaphor to be had. The more patterns appear in music or words, the more coherent and strong the song feels, and Billy Joel knows how to design his songs.

Besides patterns and sing-ability, the words are simply beautiful. Phases like "yellow Reds," "Drown the hate," and "Meeting eye to eye and face to face." I still get chills in the last verse: "He made my daughter laugh, then we embraced." This song reminds me that the world is bigger than I realize, and that we should all befriend each other, for we all have similar stories of hardship. Enjoy.

Living in my canvas

2009-06-28T06:56:00.001-07:00

Finishing the hat,
How you have to finish the hat,
How you watch the rest of the world
From a window
While you finish the hat...

--Stephen Sondheim

I completed a violin concerto at the end of last year. It was very satisfying for me to complete something on such a large scale. I picked up on a few composing strategies, and I feel more at ease with the possibility of more projects to come. It was the beginning of the next Thing. Though it didn't win the prize I wrote it for, it revived my desire to create. It represented, in a way, who I am.

I played my concerto for a friend who asked me to arrange a hymn popular to our religion. I sat with the hymn, playing around, thinking about how to incorporate some of what I learned from the concerto. From my heart came an arrangement I would not have created a year ago. I worked carefully on it for a few months. By the time I dubbed the work finished, it truly felt like a polished offering to my friend and to my God.

One Sunday morning as I prepared for church I received a text message: Do I want to sing a duet in Sunday School that day? I've trained to be quick on my feet when it comes to musical numbers, and it had been a while since I sang in public, so I was glad for the chance. The duet was with a nice girl in my ward who dances, so she knew to be expressive with the music. I can not keep a conversation going with her for long, but it was easy for me to match her tone and mood. We connected with music. I may not understand her, but I understand her music.

Friends come and go quickly in my world. I feel as though I run on a different timetable from most people I know, as far as career and family are concerned. While many friends of mine can talk about their houses or children or their ultra high security responsibilities, I can talk about my unpublished compositions or supplementary training to begin the career I took so long to choose.

But in my life, experiences like the ones above remind me why I chose music above everything else I could have done. Something inside me hungers to make music. It's a hunger different from my desire to find all the Poe Spirits in Legend of Zelda. It's why I can barely write a blog a month. I look forward more to writing music than writing about it.

Everyone needs to find out what satisfies them more than anything. Something to make life worth living, or at least not so bad. I understand that not everyone appreciates music the way I do. Heck, not every musician likes it the way I do. I'm not so naive that I think Israelis and Arabs just need to join hands and sing together to resolve their differences. But maybe if they tended a garden. Or read a book. Or learned a sport. I have no doubt my dad's collection of crossword puzzles keeps him out of trouble. Satisfying our hunger for That One Thing goes a long way to lift our spirits.

Whatever heartbreak I suffer, however blocked my path may seem, however isolated I feel, music will always be there. It is often a lonely journey, especially in my community, but it is mine. It is my home, passion, and future. I happily let the world go on while I strive to make music exist. When I do, my world is complete.

There's a part of you always standing by,
Mapping out the sky,
Finishing a hat...
Starting on a hat...
Finishing a hat...
Look, I made a hat...
Where there never was a hat...

Favorite Song: Everybody's Changing

2009-04-28T20:03:00.000-07:00

It's hard for me not to gush for hours about the band Keane. I'm satisfied that If I had tried forming a band and wrote pop songs instead of going to college, the songs would sound like what Keane produces. Anyone will tell you how easy it is to get bored with songs heard on the radio. Keane's songs have enough depth and emotion to keep me coming back for another listen. I'll give one example in the song Everybody's Changing from the album Hopes and Fears. Give it a listen...

Awesome, huh? When I first heard the chorus, I was floored. I had to listen to it over and again to understand what effect it had on me. Follow me close, because I'm about to dissect me some art.

The tune sounds halfway between a sigh and a sob. You can hear it in the singer's voice: "You're aching, you're breaking..." What makes this (and many other melodies) work so well is the careful way it repeats itself. Listen again to the melody and you can hear each phrase begins on a different note (You say you wander...When I think about it...). That protects the tune from monotony. Compare it to Taylor Swift's "Love Story," where every line begins on the same note (Romeo take me...I've been waiting...).

Then the song really takes off beginning about 1:03. It's a thrill to hear the singer jump to such a high note, but then he floats down with that sighing motion. Next comes an exciting build to the end. At about 1:13 the tune has a series of rising notes, leading us back to the song's title. Up till now, the musical periods were 16 seconds long ("You say...don't see how you can" is a period). At 1:13, the period lasts almost 30 seconds without coming to any kind of resting place.

I call these kinds of moments "musical plot twists." It wouldn't have been too hard to end the chorus after "try to understand that I'm..." Instead, they defy expectations with a delightful surprise. Keane deserves kudos for this type of writing. It's the same kinds of structures we find in classical music.

So we come to 1:34, where the piano feels a little lost without the drums. It goes along with the song's theme of trying to keep up with others. When the melody comes back it sounds a little different. On the other hand, because it was so well established before, it doesn't feel like it rambles here. It's actually kind of refreshing, changed like "everybody."

Beginning at 2:3o they trick us with another twist. We've heard the piano do it's thing before. It sounds like we'll hear another verse, but at 2:45 the piano keeps playing. It builds more suspense and momentum, barreling into another thrilling chorus. THEN, at 3:15, just when we think we're through, it plays a different chord than we expect, turning us around again so the singer can reiterate the song's title one last time. All this suspense and these plot twists make me dizzy, so Keane was polite enough to slow down at the end. I wish songs would slow down like that more often. It sounds like a real ending, instead of fading out or running out of verses.

Well, believe me when I say I could have made this much longer. There's a lot of even more technical stuff in this song under the surface that fascinates me. Most of us don't need to know it's there, but it is, and it subconsciously keeps the song interesting to our ears. The best music always has something good to offer, depending on how deeply we care to listen.

She Thinks My Doubts are Sexy

2009-03-15T21:19:00.000-07:00

I've noticed that a lot of movies, books, and TV I've enjoyed deal a lot with Doubt. I'll admit that I admire authors that can present a scenario making me think more specifically about where my moral standards are. Poor Valjean just wanted to feed his family, but he was arrested for common theft. Batman isn't so noble when you see the extreme measures he takes to stop the Joker. Isn't it healthy to expand our minds and moral centers to consider the vast complexities of the human condition?

If not healthy, it sure seems popular. The notion that you just don't know something. No one knows the mysteries of the universe. Religion is not the answer because it separates mankind. Lots of hot issues right now: the environment, the economy, civil rights vs. moral standards, all kinds of fun. Add to that mix a list of diplomats and debaters duking it out, each making the opposing side look more appealing all the time. It's become easy to look wise just by stepping away from the issues and withholding your opinion. And when you claim to step outside belief as an impartial judge, you seem wiser and more impressive to others.

A lot of us would blame John Lennon. His famous song that dreamed of life without divide frightens some religious because it poses the question "What if everything that causes conflict were gone?" Thus religion, along with its concepts of Heaven and Hell, wouldn't cause such despair and inequality. I mean, really. What if the issue of religion turned out to be as pointless as Kirk vs. Picard? You think only 144,000 humans in all of history are good enough to live with God, and I believe bread literally turns into flesh. Who's to say what the Truth is? Shouldn't we just get along without fighting over anything? Deep down, who really wants to know the Truth?

What if I do? Is there anything wrong with that?

And what does this have to do with music? Two words: Chichester Psalms. After the turn of the 20th Century, Classical music suffered an identity crisis. Many Classically trained composers began to experiment with unusual means of putting music together. Some felt music didn't need to end with a sense of "coming home" or "resolution" at the end. Some thought it didn't need to sound Pretty. Some even decided that it didn't need to be composed until the performance. Why not just give the performers some vague instructions and let them make it up on the spot?

Leonard Bernstein, famous for West Side Story's music took a yearlong sabbatical from directing the New York Philharmonic to study those experimental composition techniques. Then, in his own words, "I threw it all out and wrote the Chichester Psalms." It's written basically in the same style as West Side Story, but it is rich enough in its architecture and message to satisfy the intellectuals. It was the type of music he called home. Like when I start listening to Country music to please some girl, but after the relationship cools off I go back to John Williams and Death Cab for Cutie.

Many in the world claim skepticism towards Faith. How can you know for sure what God is like, or what happens to someone's essence after death? Maybe that's why I favor the LDS Church, or The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. One of its core teachings is that Man cannot know any Truth by himself. It must be revealed from an outside, Divine source. And that Source is willing to reveal everything we need to know to get through the human existence happily, including our reason for existing. This is just one school of thought, and not everyone thinks it's for them. But it's what feels like home for me. It frees up my mind to concentrate on other matters in my life.

I wonder how many skeptics are just sissies. I loved seeing Mike Wallace discuss the Afterlife with Gordon B. Hinckley. Wallace said "I've thought about it, but can't get myself to believe in it." Hinckey's response: "Well, then you haven't thought about it long enough." I've only taken one philosophy class in my education, but it frustrated me because the teacher loved asking questions more than solving them. He even said during one unit that he stopped teaching the class for a while because he didn't have a solution to one of the problems he thought up. When we tried discussing possible solutions, he admitted "If you ask a question you're a philosopher, but if you answer it you're a scientist."

And there it is: My philosophy teacher admitted that he lives in doubt, at least in that particular issue, because he likes the question too much to resolve it.

I compose like a scientist. I experiment. I analyze. I postulate and experiment more. The composing process doesn't quite take off for me until I know where I'm going. I look for that answer. Don't tell me I have to free my mind because knowing gives me direction. Purpose. Drive. Hope.

This isn't to say doubt has no value. Art, as in life, needs conflict in order to be interesting. But I submit that artists and people need to know where their values lie. All the conflict we create will erode our hearts if we don't know where home is in our hearts. Doubt may be stylish and impressive to others, but faith in something helps us find the joy in what we do.

Favorite Song: Hymn to Freedom

2009-02-15T21:38:00.001-08:00

With President's Day, and Black History Month, I felt like explaining what I love about Oscar Peterson's "Hymn to Freedom." This recording is from his Night Train album, featuring Ray Brown on Bass and Ed Thigpen on Drums.

What we have here is Gospel mixed with the Blues. You can hear Peterson gently laying down his hymn, giving the small musical moments to the top, middle, and lower range on the piano. How often do you hear instrumentalists letting their melodies escape the top notes on the piano? I love how simple the tune is, moving mostly by steps up and down the scale. At the same time, it's a long tune that avoids repeating itself exactly until the "Amen" chords, right before the drums kick in.

Now we hear the blues. This is a neat reminder of where Jazz came from, improvising over old gospel standards. I think of it like a churchgoer who hears the Word, then feels blue because the world is not like it could be. In the recording, Peterson is kind enough to play some familiar chords in case we get lost. The solos themselves tend to start lower, then there is a bluesy middle, then an upper flourish before coming back down. Every so often Peterson tremolos in the right hand, or makes the notes "shiver." He's such a tease...

I should mention Ray Brown, who you can't always hear on the recording. He's there, adding his part to compliment the rhythm. He's done some fine solo work of his own, and it takes good talent to draw the listener to a bass line.

About three minutes in the Drummer senses the Piano is up to something and brings in a little crash sound to back him up. Sure enough, the tremolos start to get longer. About 3:45 Peterson goes where few pianists dare: He tremolos in both hands for a minute and a half, non-stop. But he's not just showing off--You can hear the theme through the shivers. 20 seconds later, Thigpen adds his drum roll, sending shivers up my arms. We're climbing up the mountain, we're about to see the promised land...

BUM, BUM, BA-DA, DUM (diddle-ee-um, da-um). A little more blues to remind us of where we came from, then we hear the hymn one last time. Free at last.

Bottled Lightning

2008-12-05T21:41:00.000-08:00

I visited my high school a couple of months ago. There was a student production of Pirates of Penzance. Since it was directed by a student my inner critic decided to go easy on them, especially because I could tell how much fun they had. (For future reference, Gilbert and Sullivan does not come across effectively when sung as emo rock.) I enjoyed it more for the memories of when I played Frederik my senior year. Wow. Thinking back on the audition process, not knowing until right before winter break that I had earned the lead. Then how thrilled I felt when I realized I would be onstage at the center of the action 90% of the show. The comeradery, the bloopers, the backstage drama. The music seemed designed for my voice. During the finale on closing night I realized that it would likely be my last theatrical experience ever, but I didn't care because it was such a wonderful way to bow out. The student production I saw made me realize how wonderful our production was those eleven and a half years ago.

I got to asking myself what made it so special. In previous years our musicals weren't that great, and we could tell. Our senior year became one of those brilliant moments in a performer's life when everyone comes together at the right place to create something bigger than themselves.

Our director/theater head was Jason Butler, and he was a godsend, fresh from earning a degree in Theater Education. It fascinated me the way he gave us images to play with and improvise on. And rather than telling us how to re-deliver our lines he often asked us questions to help us understand our characters on deeper levels. He was also creative in his set design. Our fly system was officially condemned, so he wisely chose a musical with only two scenes, one for each act. Our lack of funding provided unique theater opportunities. Before the show there was a running gag involving duct tape and scenery that wouldn't stay up. Since we couldn't draw the curtains while we changed sets, the stage crew provided mid-show entertainment just by getting ready for act 2. We took an obvious limitation with our theater and turned it into something we meant to do all along.

Mr Butler was not the sole hero that year; it helped greatly that he got along so well with the school's choir teacher, Chad Christman. They even happened to speak Japanese, and we could tell even during callbacks that they cracked each other up. Mr C loved opera and helped us get into the musical spirit of Pirates. One of my favorite sayings to this day is his advice for opera singers: "When you forget your blocking, just turn and honk forward."

Good leaders need good followers, and we obliged: Anthony almost tore his throat out as the Pirate King. Bonnie's delicate Mabel gave me ample motivation to be a hero. Jared did Monty Python proud as the Major General. Julianne's Ruth, like all her characters, overacted just the right amount. Paul sang those low Police Officer notes with such resonance. These leads all had beautiful voices that added unique flavor to their characters. And the pirates, police, and daughters all frolicked and summer-saulted, losing themselves in this enormous play-date. I couldn't help but get caught up in this fabulous world we created long before Johnny Depp made pirates popular in the movies.

Together we explored our characters and inspired each other with our own ideas. Mr Butler showed us how cool it is to go think critically and creatively of ourselves. We began to offer friendly advice to each other about comedic timing, vocal technique, and motivation. One of my favorite memories shows just how united we were in polishing our production. During "O is there Not one Maiden Breast" I try to flirt with the daughters. My friends in the tech crew came up to me during a practice and told me how much they loved it when I gave a little glance to the audience that said, "Watch me woo this one!" I forgot to glance at the audience once and they wanted to make sure I kept it in the staging. I hadn't realized up to that point how much attention they paid the actors.

Nostalgic? Yes I am. But we knew how talented we were. Many of the singers were from our superior-rated chamber choir. We earned recognition from the local press. The School Theater critic pointed us out for unique moments in our production as examples of what happens when all the ingredients come together. The play would not have been as fun or successful had any of the parts not been there. I'm thankful for those experiences in the music world. They help keep me making art, looking forward to the next moment when a synergy of talent comes together again to make something beautiful.

Entering the World of the Hat

2008-10-12T21:26:00.000-07:00

Stephen Sondheim wrote a love song to artists with the musical Sunday in the Park with George. There's something romantic about them, their visions, their work that appears lonely yet broadens our horizons at the same time. Some of us take pride in that no one "gets" us. Others want desperately to be understood and connect with the world we beautify. If only we could explain or show you the world as we truly see it. That is why we create, because we have a view so rich to our eyes that we want to share.

I have wanted for some time to start some kind of record of my thoughts as a composer. In school my fellow composers and I gathered to bounce ideas off each other and sort out our personal feelings of what it means to compose. Many influences have shaped my attitudes towards art, and more specifically towards music and that admired but under-respected world of composing. Most common are the questions of whether what I do as a composer really makes such a splash, and if not why do I even want to blog about them. I hope someday to collect my thoughts into some book, but in the mean time I will document them here where anyone with a computer mouse can copy and paste them and steal my thoughts that may have come stolen from someone else first, anyway.

My purpose is not to glamorize composers. Believe me, glamor is not one of my strengths. I've simply realized that composing has helped me to understand the world. Not only that, but everything I compose at any given time includes a shout-out to my friends and everything else that's on my mind. So from time to time I plan to write not specifically about music, but about my beliefs or relationships and how they influence what I compose. Maybe you'll want to take up music. Maybe you'll think a little differently about your world. And maybe I'll be the only one who reads my words. In any case, I will have fundamentally accomplished what composers like to do most: organize the thoughts in my head into something that reflects the world I see.