more performances

The performances of the new Smith and Morris marimba pieces went well. This time I played the ensemble version of Morris's Stream Runner, which includes solo marimba, three percussionists, and piano. In many ways, the ensemble version is much harder than the solo version. The tutti passages are rhythmically tricky and since everyone else dips in and out of the solo marimba part I really have to be on my game.

The most interesting experience came about when Smith showed up to coach me through his piece Wait. I wasn't in top form as I was pretty exhausted from a crushing touring and teaching schedule. (Also, my sixteen month old daughter has not one, but FOUR molars coming in at the same time. Forget about sleep.) At any rate, I had spent some time with Morris when I premiered the ensemble version of his piece earlier in the week and as always spending time with a composer can reveal insights about how to interpret his or her music. Bob (Morris) has an incredible amount of energy, which he can focus like a laser beam or spread into different areas. He thinks fast, talks fast, and moves fast. So we hung out, I played his piece and all went well. I had no trouble getting the hyper-energy and drama of his music across as my general state of being these days is hyper-energy and drama.

But then Stuart (Smith) showed up later in the week. After only ten minutes in his presence I realized that I was approaching his music with a Morris mind set. Stuart's energy is much different. He's a very quiet, meditative person, comfortable with silence. This shouldn't have been a surprise as I've known Stuart for many years, but it had been at least a year since we'd been in the same room. So we spent some time together (he stayed the night at my house in fact, with his wife Sylvia), and worked on his piece. The first run through wasn't very good. I could have chalked it up to exhaustion or maybe the revisions he had just sent me, but really what happened is that I wasn't yet in his world. Once I relaxed and began to settle into the silences and flow of his music--especially the conversational aspect of his rhythmic language--my interpretation improved by leaps and bounds.

This is the essence of interpreting serious music, especially new music. In a word: theater. I don't mean showy movements, I mean the ability to move between aesthetic realms--no matter how disparate--and fully embody the demands and story of the music. Method Musicking, or something like that.