Very recently I've taken to Arvo Part. I don't really know much about him, his ways or his oeuvre, but that's probably subject to change.
The composition in question that prompted this new interest is called Fratres. It exists in almost as many versions as I have names, and really I'd love to get hold of the dots for the 'Cello and Piano version for the usual Banjo-fication. Don't worry, I'm being totally serious. I can hear rifles being loaded and pitchforks being sharpened even at the very typing of that thought.
Fratres is steeped in droning and deep into the balance of wide, open spaces and grinding dissonance that is the Phrygian mode. The most recognisable part of the Phrygian mode itself is the flat 2nd, creating a crushing effect on both the ascending and descending scales. Personally, I favour the minor third going up, but coming down on the major third, meaning that there is a whole minor third before you reach the penultimate note of the scale. This creates a distance even before we are crushed by the final semitone to settle on the final note, and is also known as the Phrygian Dominant scale, or more commonly still, the Jewish scale (hah!).
The Phrygian mode appears more often then is to be expected in these iib-V7-I, equal temperament times. The Phyrgian cadence, with it's superb clashes. It sometimes appears as a lead in to a perfect cadence (kind of VI6sus aug4-V-I), as through centuries of conditioning mostly via Bach and his pesky chorales, we expect a perfect cadence at the end of a piece. FREE YOURSELF FROM THESE SHACKLES. A-hem. Of the Phrygian melodies that you're most likely to know, the christmas carol The First Noel springs to mind as the best example. Your shining light as a rule to discovering whether a melody lies in this mode is just the same as seeking out cadences; a step down of one semitone. When you find a true expression of the cadence, instead of VI6sus aug4-V as above, V becomes I, and you get the major tonic chord formed above it. It can truly be a grand effect and, of course, affect. Look to Asturias for Piano by Albeniz - yes, the guitar arrangement is very impressive, but the original for Piano is simply brilliant and contains a lyrical central section that showcases what I've tried to describe much more ably. Play it, listen to it, whatever, the faster and more passionate and impatient the better. It is a stereotypically Spanish piece that reminds us very much of Flamenco music, which is strongly linked to the whole Phrygian schtick. Eastern european folk music, Moorish chanting, and even the Cantors at the Synagogue are know for their phrygian turns. It's more compelling than the lydian mode, more passionate than the dorian, and more familiar than the ionain.
Another wonderful composition that uses this delightful mode is the stormy Piano Quintet in F minor by Brahms. The Scherzo, one of my defining pieces, is wild and unforgiving. It conjures up images of conflict, great strength and finally, a well-deserved victory, ending on unison C's directly from the crushed flat 2nd.
Anyway. Fratres. I first heard it at a dinner with the Chief and some of our good friends in Norwich, that fine City. We had just recovered from ingesting tiny samples of the Naga, or ghost chilli. Enquiring as to what it was, I was surprised to hear it was composed by Part. I have since sought it out on the Naxos Music Library, and found many many versions. Some recordings that suffer from poor tuning, and one for wind octet and percussion that suffers from simply being in equal temperament. The Clarinets are out from the Horns by what sounds like a syntonic comma, ie just enough to make a difference. I bloody hate how the octaves are just out. Anyway.
There is something deeply understated, even through all the dissonance, where the true power of the mode lies in Fratres. The intimately mysterious beginning of the Strings and Percussion version, has touches of eastern mysticism about it - the 5ths droning away at the bottom punctuated by a xylophonic touch. The strings speak to us, reminding us through the clashing suspensions that violence is only a hair's breadth away. As they fall silent, the xylophones return, backed by an enormous bass drum, adding even more depth to the gradually increasing dynamic of the drone. We can attach so many images to these textures answering each other with this distinct tonal environment, where could we even begin. You should seek it out and listen for yourself. A little patience will be necessary, if you are unfamiliar with the tonal world, but it's worth it. For me, there is a deep satisfaction in the settling of the Phyrigian cadence, the expectation in the suspension, the delaying of gratification in the grinding flat 2nd. There is a touch of overcoming a difficult struggle about all this.
And if you want even more heart-breaking space in your life, then you could do far worse than Spiegel im Spiegel. It hangs in space, with it's crystalline Piano arpeggios, sailing through eternity with the held string notes - Viola being my personal favourite.
But it's the space that makes both of these pieces. Silences of articulation are not just desperately vital in keyboard playing, but also in composition, especially in this minimalist soundworld. As super smooth as these phrases are, the gradual attack of the strings only highlights whenever they fall silent and are punctuated by wooden percussion. In fact, perhaps it is this space that makes Part's Fratres just as powerful as Brahms's Opus 34, the Piano Quintet in F minor. They both have a minor cloud that is parted by a ray of phrygian sunshine, but Brahms uses many more textures in doing so.
I will be taking the time to listen to more Part, hopefully after I've got some sleep. Fratres proves that the dark side of the Phrygian mode can be expressed with emptiness as well as busy textures. It's not better, it's just saying something different, so it uses another voice, softly spoken but not straining to be heard over a maddening crowd, its crowning glory in quiet but lasting victory.
Wednesday 21 November 2012
Tuesday 20 November 2012
Promotion cometh yet from the Lord
I've been writing this for quite a while now. The tag line at the top has been the guiding light for the the overall tone..."misadventure" probably belongs up there as well, probably. Unlike some of my fellows that I know who blog too, I am less of a creative writer than a destructive one; the last few months of wallowing have proved that much. But in between the misery, I have also been talking about change, and I guess that's what this is all about.
As we know, "Songman" is an historic title that I have avoided letting go of even though I am no longer a member of Derby Cathedral Choir. I like it. It's short, simple to explain, and sounds old-fashioned. I was proud to keep hold of it, having been a full-time member of a Cathedral back row before leaving school. Enough with the laughing already; Derby may not be the world's greatest foundation but I earned my place there and having to do a whole year on your own as an Alto almost straight after your voice breaks is both a terrible idea and a real character builder.
I'm so proud of this title that I even named my long-suffering blog after it - somewhere where I could offload the heavy troubles of the day by writing them away. If we look back to where I was when I started writing this, that is to say an environment that did not suit me both domestically and professionally, then we can see why I would want to make such an escape for myself. I was increasingly unhappy all angles round, God knows how I even found the will to go back into third year, but thankfully I did and here I am now. And indeed, here I am to stay. This is the good news that I've been sitting on for all this time. See, I guess it isn't really a big deal for most people but it is to me...
If you've known me for some time (you know, like 5 years or more), you know that my big ambition in life is to once again be a full member of the back row of a Cathedral choir again, and here I am at 22, having regained that position. Okay, I'm not getting appointed formally until September next year (I'll be 23 by then though), and I'll have to find somewhere to live and work, but at the moment, this is still better news than that time I found out that I graduated. I'm particularly proud of this, because I haven't relied on any connections, pulled any favours, or needed any pieces of paper that say anything at all in order to get here; just good, old fashioned hard work.
I wrote about how little I change myself in the summer; the statement still stands. Rather than change to something unfamiliar, I have changed to reclaim something I already had. This is my first post (Cathedral post) as an adult though - whether I stay here or move on out after a while is something that will take more than sitting up til 1am to fathom. By no means am I sat at a "poor end of the stall" any longer though, and indeed far from it! I always describe myself as 'the loud one at the end' when members of the congregation speak to me and say "Oh you're a choral scholar, aren't you, which one are you again?". Thankfully, that description usually does, so I don't have to go as far as describing that abominable hood that I wear (Lord of Mercy UEA you have really dropped the ball with that dreadful coral colour)...
The next big things on the list are accomodation and employment. Another known known (that is to say something that we know that we know) is that holding down a job is somewhat tricky. This is another thing with no quick fix; that's it. As for accomodation... Well, I really don't know. Finding and affording life in Truro will be the biggest obstacle I will face, and God knows if I'm really ready to do that but the hell with it I haven't backed down yet (I almost did once and that was terrible), and now isn't the time to even start consideing such namby-pamby practices like that. I know that my strength comes from inside me, but that I always need other people to remind me of it. I've got a good crop of friends down here even outside of the Cathedral family circle, and I'm looking forward to the next part of my life very much. This is the independance I have struggled for, the career I have lived for, in a place that I enjoy living, working and being a part of.
So, what is this now then? Lay-Vicar's Corner? I think not. I could only ever have got to this stage in life and accepted the future that I'm going to without having come from where I did. I still refer to Derby as "us". Maybe three services a week is small fry in comparison to now, but there was still a depth of repertoire and the nature of commitment that was a defining point of my youth. Having to hold the alto line almost on my own was a defining point of my adolescence, and a pretty unique circumstance. If I could have the time again, would I do things differently? Would I have that 6 moths off to rest my voice? Who knows? Who cares!
Accepting the Lay-Vicarship is still a development I'm getting used to. It's early in the choral year after all, and there's still seven months of this year with these scholars to go. More likely than not, there will be five completely new scholars net year though, and I won't be a part of that group. That is really an odd consideration after having been a choral scholar at various institutions for four years now. I'm never going to be a choral scholar again. Wow.
As we know, "Songman" is an historic title that I have avoided letting go of even though I am no longer a member of Derby Cathedral Choir. I like it. It's short, simple to explain, and sounds old-fashioned. I was proud to keep hold of it, having been a full-time member of a Cathedral back row before leaving school. Enough with the laughing already; Derby may not be the world's greatest foundation but I earned my place there and having to do a whole year on your own as an Alto almost straight after your voice breaks is both a terrible idea and a real character builder.
I'm so proud of this title that I even named my long-suffering blog after it - somewhere where I could offload the heavy troubles of the day by writing them away. If we look back to where I was when I started writing this, that is to say an environment that did not suit me both domestically and professionally, then we can see why I would want to make such an escape for myself. I was increasingly unhappy all angles round, God knows how I even found the will to go back into third year, but thankfully I did and here I am now. And indeed, here I am to stay. This is the good news that I've been sitting on for all this time. See, I guess it isn't really a big deal for most people but it is to me...
I'm going to be a Lay-Vicar of Truro Cathedral Choir.
If you've known me for some time (you know, like 5 years or more), you know that my big ambition in life is to once again be a full member of the back row of a Cathedral choir again, and here I am at 22, having regained that position. Okay, I'm not getting appointed formally until September next year (I'll be 23 by then though), and I'll have to find somewhere to live and work, but at the moment, this is still better news than that time I found out that I graduated. I'm particularly proud of this, because I haven't relied on any connections, pulled any favours, or needed any pieces of paper that say anything at all in order to get here; just good, old fashioned hard work.
I wrote about how little I change myself in the summer; the statement still stands. Rather than change to something unfamiliar, I have changed to reclaim something I already had. This is my first post (Cathedral post) as an adult though - whether I stay here or move on out after a while is something that will take more than sitting up til 1am to fathom. By no means am I sat at a "poor end of the stall" any longer though, and indeed far from it! I always describe myself as 'the loud one at the end' when members of the congregation speak to me and say "Oh you're a choral scholar, aren't you, which one are you again?". Thankfully, that description usually does, so I don't have to go as far as describing that abominable hood that I wear (Lord of Mercy UEA you have really dropped the ball with that dreadful coral colour)...
The next big things on the list are accomodation and employment. Another known known (that is to say something that we know that we know) is that holding down a job is somewhat tricky. This is another thing with no quick fix; that's it. As for accomodation... Well, I really don't know. Finding and affording life in Truro will be the biggest obstacle I will face, and God knows if I'm really ready to do that but the hell with it I haven't backed down yet (I almost did once and that was terrible), and now isn't the time to even start consideing such namby-pamby practices like that. I know that my strength comes from inside me, but that I always need other people to remind me of it. I've got a good crop of friends down here even outside of the Cathedral family circle, and I'm looking forward to the next part of my life very much. This is the independance I have struggled for, the career I have lived for, in a place that I enjoy living, working and being a part of.
So, what is this now then? Lay-Vicar's Corner? I think not. I could only ever have got to this stage in life and accepted the future that I'm going to without having come from where I did. I still refer to Derby as "us". Maybe three services a week is small fry in comparison to now, but there was still a depth of repertoire and the nature of commitment that was a defining point of my youth. Having to hold the alto line almost on my own was a defining point of my adolescence, and a pretty unique circumstance. If I could have the time again, would I do things differently? Would I have that 6 moths off to rest my voice? Who knows? Who cares!
Accepting the Lay-Vicarship is still a development I'm getting used to. It's early in the choral year after all, and there's still seven months of this year with these scholars to go. More likely than not, there will be five completely new scholars net year though, and I won't be a part of that group. That is really an odd consideration after having been a choral scholar at various institutions for four years now. I'm never going to be a choral scholar again. Wow.
Friday 16 November 2012
Written out
Once again there's been a serious haitus.
If we look over the past few months, the summer archive of 2012 if you will, we can see a definite pattern forming: that of an overall depression, but trying to make the best of things. I faced a lot of things in the summer, both great triumphs and fierce lows... and here I am in the middle of November (and really it all boils down to the middle of November, doesn't it?), having finally caught up with one of my best friends. Three months is simply far too long, but as those on the great East Anglian coast know, time is the least of worries when compared to distance.
The problem is I am still pretty down; not for any reason in particular, but as any other depressive can tell you, you don't always need a reason. I am particularly drained at the moment. I'm not sleeping properly, and getting up and out is sometimes more a strain than it should be. I remarked on this earlier, thinking that I had got through the bad part and was feeling better and now back to being generally low. It gets in the way of a lot of things! I haven't written anything here for ages, and even elementary social interaction is more difficult and tiring than it should be. I'm worn out and I feel old, Why?
I guess some questions are beyond the scope of some 20-something's mewling blog though. I've let a lot slip though, and even thinking of that doesn't really help because of course I should be doing better than this. Coming back to my chamber of an evening and feeling all played out even before the communal meal is a bit shit though.
I'm sure this mid-November slump will clear itself up; these things have a habit of working themselves out by themselves, just like I do. I may well be single and unemployed again, but there's obviously something in there that I should be taking note of. Employment is diffucult for autistic people, perhaps it's time I started taking note of my disability more seriously, as much as I hate doing so, even before you take into account fitting in with choir hours. I know that if I keep looking and trying, something that is possible will turn up, and it's just a case of finding the right thing.
As for my love life, I consider myself formally in a position of semi-retirement. Allow me to clarify: it just isn't my strong suit at the best of times so why bother with putting myself through more heartache. Social interaction can be tough enough on a professional level (where I like to think I know what I'm doing), let alone in a more intimate setting. Of course there are people out there, near and far that I am attracted to, but... I just have no idea what to do about it at the moment. So I'm just not doing anything, which is for the best.
So there we are. There's actually a lot of good things that have been happening that I've not said; I think at this point a little cathartic release is better while I wind up for a better tone. Everything is in the process of changing, and perhaps that's something else that's driving this particular mood - after all, I hate change because I don't (haha)...
If we look over the past few months, the summer archive of 2012 if you will, we can see a definite pattern forming: that of an overall depression, but trying to make the best of things. I faced a lot of things in the summer, both great triumphs and fierce lows... and here I am in the middle of November (and really it all boils down to the middle of November, doesn't it?), having finally caught up with one of my best friends. Three months is simply far too long, but as those on the great East Anglian coast know, time is the least of worries when compared to distance.
The problem is I am still pretty down; not for any reason in particular, but as any other depressive can tell you, you don't always need a reason. I am particularly drained at the moment. I'm not sleeping properly, and getting up and out is sometimes more a strain than it should be. I remarked on this earlier, thinking that I had got through the bad part and was feeling better and now back to being generally low. It gets in the way of a lot of things! I haven't written anything here for ages, and even elementary social interaction is more difficult and tiring than it should be. I'm worn out and I feel old, Why?
I guess some questions are beyond the scope of some 20-something's mewling blog though. I've let a lot slip though, and even thinking of that doesn't really help because of course I should be doing better than this. Coming back to my chamber of an evening and feeling all played out even before the communal meal is a bit shit though.
I'm sure this mid-November slump will clear itself up; these things have a habit of working themselves out by themselves, just like I do. I may well be single and unemployed again, but there's obviously something in there that I should be taking note of. Employment is diffucult for autistic people, perhaps it's time I started taking note of my disability more seriously, as much as I hate doing so, even before you take into account fitting in with choir hours. I know that if I keep looking and trying, something that is possible will turn up, and it's just a case of finding the right thing.
As for my love life, I consider myself formally in a position of semi-retirement. Allow me to clarify: it just isn't my strong suit at the best of times so why bother with putting myself through more heartache. Social interaction can be tough enough on a professional level (where I like to think I know what I'm doing), let alone in a more intimate setting. Of course there are people out there, near and far that I am attracted to, but... I just have no idea what to do about it at the moment. So I'm just not doing anything, which is for the best.
So there we are. There's actually a lot of good things that have been happening that I've not said; I think at this point a little cathartic release is better while I wind up for a better tone. Everything is in the process of changing, and perhaps that's something else that's driving this particular mood - after all, I hate change because I don't (haha)...
And I'm still sat up at 1am! Oy Vey!
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