Though recordings are no longer especially financially remunerative in this digital age, there does exist something uniquely valuable and not reproducible: the artists themselves.
Why is it that more than three quarters of the devoted audience for classical and concert music today might not recognize even the name Henry Cowell, much less his music?
The Composer is Dead, composer Nathaniel Stookey’s collaboration with celebrated children’s book author Lemony Snicket (the pen name of Daniel Handler), is giving Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf and Britten’s The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra some serious competition.
I had written an opera, and I wanted to premiere it in Bali—not exactly the jungle, but close.
On the eve of NewMusicBox’s 10th anniversary, we invited eight people to roll up their sleeves, dust off their magic eight balls, and offer their thoughts on where we’re coming from and (hopefully?) where we may be headed.
As a group, Native Americans who write music churn out work in genres from classical to hip-hop, and those in the classical business write in styles from neo-romantic to electro-acoustic and pretty much everything in between.
While most composers, performers, and listeners would probably agree that there is a wide and flexible field of possibility available in bringing a piece of music home creatively and with its dignity still intact, they would also be quick to add that there are distinct limits beyond which the native sense and spirit of a musical creation undergoes rapid self-destruction and loses its core identity.