Snippitts of Illusions: 08/31

Testing, Testing, Testing!

I used to be on fire. Fired with the passions of creativity. Feeding the flames with inspiration around me. I burned hotter and hotter, until one day the flame was out. I don't remember the day, or the day after. It was many days, or possibly weeks that I finally noticed. By then the disease of apathy held me in sway and I didn't care. Well that's not true, I did, but I couldn't make it come up to the surface. Then I found a new outlet, and I let it take me. But what about the old?

I wrote a three movement, 14 minute long wind orchestra piece, that is 16 parts plus full percussion, in two months. The month before I wrote a twelve minute Clarinet Sonata in three movements. In addition to I worked, and wrote many little pieces for classes and such during those three months. That was four years ago. The most recent thing I've done was a 45 minute play, I did it on a short amount of time, but much was repeated. That was a year ago.

What happened? Why can't I write like that any more?

Every artist goes through dry spells. I hope that's all this is. Because there's alot more I could do: I'd like to move all of you with atonality to the point of tears. I'd like cause you to stand up and shout from a brass fanfare done in a slightly different way. I'd like you to wonder why the piano piece doesn't quite fit in jazz, rock, or classical, but is still damn cool.

The fire has gone out, but there are still coals smoldering.

I like Twentieth century art music. It speaks to me. I love particularly turn of the century stuff through the first five decades. Stravinsky was pure genius. He was the master of the period. There's also Hindemith and Bartok. They wrote music that was on the edge of accesible. Most people won't "get it" but many will. I love these three because of what they did to the orchestra. They tore it open. They made it explode with sounds never heard before. I love it! Then there's the three. Mostly infamous names; Schoenberg, Webern, and Berg. They are not accessible. They do not lend themselves to any accessibility to mass consumption. I love each though, for different reasons. I love Schoenbergs music because of the naive meloncholy it seems to portray. Schoenberg wanted his music to catch on and become popular. It didn't. I never will. I like Webern for his mathmatical precision. He caculated the hell out of his pieces. They are like musical equations, his pieces. Beautiful because of the design. Berg, his musics different. He didn't try to force the new way of writing. He just did it. Used it as a tool to achieve his goal. His compositions seem the most natural of the three. I think they probably are. He created one of the most disturbingly beautiful operas written during the twentieth century. Also one of the most difficult to perform.

So I went home. It was good. I saw many people that I love. Now I'm back in Logan. Where my juices can now flow.

Snippitts of Illusions

Saturday, September 06, 2003

Friday, September 05, 2003

Wednesday, September 03, 2003

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