Avoiding Cliches, the New Cliche
 |
Another encounter, several years later, shed light on Martin's peculiar phrase from a different angle. I was at the Tutti New Music Festival at Denison College in Ohio. After complimenting a composer on his work, he quipped, "I've used up one of my two rain sticks now". Upon further elaboration, it was revealed that his composition teacher had told him, you only get two rain sticks and four wind chimes to use in your life as a composer.
What do these two stories share in common? They involve instruments that have a very cliched sound. The rain stick, if you're not familiar with it, has grains of sand inside it, that slowly cascade down the length of the instrument as you hold it vertically, creating the sound of rain or a waterfall. No matter how you move it, the performer will get the same sound each and every time. Similarly, many people have a cliched notion of a harp being played by angel sitting on a cloud, glissandoing hand over hand from its lowest to its highest strings.
But there's also an underlying philosophical approach these two stories share as well. In both cases, the compositional teachers shared a fundamental acceptance of the ideas of modernism - where art must be something new, and not tied to the past. The idea that surface level coherence must be rejected in order for the artist to discover 'deeper meanings' not readily apparent on a first listening.
In the modernist mode of thinking, a simple harp glissando, hearkens back to past traditions, and must be avoided at all costs. A rain stick can not really be used in new ways. It's too simple of a solution for the twenty seconds of musical space that it will take for the grains of rice to descend from the top of the rain stick to the bottom.
 |
If Martin Jenni had shared his music with me today, I would have asked him, "Did you want to allow yourself more harp glissandos? Wouldn't one have been nice right here?" What a tortured existence for an artist, to have the mindset that they can only 'allow themselves' to follow their initial instincts to solve art's problems on occasion - that they have to sneak in certain cliched musical gestures or predictable uses of color and then beg the modernistic gods for forgiveness later.
Think about it. Composers employing modernist philosophies approach the process of creation from the negative - I can't do this, I can't do that - what a debilitating and cockeyed approach to music making.
What becomes comical to me, is that the avoidance of the musical cliches of past composers, often creates music that creates new cliches. Works for solo flute are a common encounter at new music festivals. Composers can predictably expect these pieces to use any or all of these 'new' musical techniques - flutter tonguing, key clicks, overblowing, multiphonics, etc. In their quest to chart new territory, composers end up using a laundry list of predictable 'new' techniques, that make the usage of these techniques their own cliche. Paradoxically, at new music festivals, when someone presents a flute piece in a traditional way it sounds refreshing. At a banquet at a recent new music festival someone quipped, "I'd kill for some Mozart right now" and the room broke up in laughter - perhaps we all grow tired of the new cliches.
In the end, artists need to simply trust their own instincts. Too much worrying about what others may think ends up with a confusing end product that virtually no one can decipher. If you feel a passage calls for tonality, write tonally. If a twelve tone approach creates the effect you're after, then use it unapologetically. Want to try your hand at minimalism, do it! Feel like singin' the blues, then by all means, throw it in. If any of the trailblazers in arts cared what others thought, they wouldn't have created their own unique and unmistakable style.
Write what you want, write what you feel deep in your gut, take names, kick ass... and never look over your shoulder.
ShareThis
Seriously, who would be rude enough to "dislike" this??? Don't get me wrong - it's very good, and impressive, but that'd be kind of a jackass thing to do...
Reply to this
Thanks Chris for your comment. I welcome a little dissent now and again LOL! I'm just happy folks take a little time to read the posts and offer their reactions to the content. The whole point of the entries is to give people a little something to chew on, and keep the gray matter moving. Take care, and thanks again for reading!
Reply to this
Your post reminds me of something that happened to me. I was at a new music festival a few years back where I had the extraordinary good fortune to hear two pieces of mine performed. Both were radically different in their approaches. One was a tonal work for wind ensemble that employed several (though not severe) minimalist tendencies and the other a work for solo violin that was rigorously worked out (jogging your memory?). The wind ensemble piece was performed first and the solo violin piece later. Once the solo violin piece was finished, one of the attendees (an older composer) turned to me asked, "So which one is the *real* Brad Fowler?" I thought it a curious question and - not a little annoyed - replied that they both reflect aspects of my personality and that I try to write whatever interests me. It's not for nothing that I mention that I've "been influenced one way or another by pretty much everything I've ever heard" in my bio! But it did give me something to reflect on about the nature of those trained and steeped in the modernist tradition and those of us lucky enough to be among the first to inherit multiple streams of thought (including forms of popular musics) that could be picked up, examined and rejected out of hand if we so chose.
I think you make several really interesting points. The idea that "the new" can generate its own clichés is one I've been wrestling with for some time now. I hate being at a premiere of a new piece and being able to predict more-or-less exactly how the piece is going to unfold. I think if I hear one more "new" orchestra piece that starts with a long tone that crescendos from nothing to quadruple whatever and then explodes into a flurry of activity, I'm going to jump out of my skin. I'm also officially tired of solo flute pieces. I get that they can do all sorts of extended techniques and that they are extremely agile instruments, but that doesn't mean composers have to try to shove a kitchen sink into the mouthpiece.
Great and, as always, insightful post, Ralph. Keep it up!
Reply to this
Brad, I was at this festival - St. Ambrose, right? Both of those pieces were quite good and very different from one another. I just don't sense anything constructive in the comment, "which one is the real Brad Fowler". I think often, composers hurl around this sort of garbage at conferences as a subtle intimidation technique, but it really masks the artist's own insecurity. It's hard, but I try to let this drivel just roll off of my back. Here's the good news - those pieces were clearly stated and represented something so coherently, that he/she was able to catch the vast stylistic difference between them. That's a victory my friend! Way better than them being lumped in with lots of other new music pieces, that cast a gray, indiscernible hue.
Reply to this
Wasn't it Ellington who said,"If it sounds good, man, it is good?" Just use what your ears and heart tell you are needed for the musical message.
Reply to this
It really is that simple, isn't it Denise. I think we definitely overcomplicate things too often. Thanks for the comment!
Reply to this
author, good work
Reply to this