In which we ask none of the big questions, but address a few of the little ones.
Is composing for posterity hindering your creativity?
I’ve thought about submitting scores to competitions under the name, in the style, and in the simulated hand of one of the judges, carefully pieced
together at the computer; on one level it’d be a joke, of course, but
part of me thrills at freaking out successful composers this way.
Seeing and hearing Nixon in China staged live by the Chicago Opera Theatre was a revelation.
Why do some of us take composers who teach younger students less seriously than composers who teach at universities?
The Da Vinci Code gets more play from the music than the plot, the International Music Police launch their own Schoenberg investigation, expected chatter concerning lists and critics. Plus: How did that piano get there?
Writing about iPods is totally cliché; but I’m doing it anyway.
It has occurred to me that our music is probably less a result of our processes than vice versa: We want to meet certain goals in our music, so we’ve accumulated, synthesized, and exercised skills that allow us to accomplish these goals.
If you’re doing several different things at once, are you really paying attention to any of them?
Why is it that we take such care programming a concert by professionals, yet often fail to take the same approach with our students?