But it also set me thinking about the interesting challenge of setting the whole score of a movie for one instrument. I’ve written before of how I like the idea of a self-imposed limit on one’s palette of colors, and this seems like a great example. What would be a good instrument for such a challenge? (Solo piano doesn’t count.) Stringed instruments suggested themselves immediately; a violin or viola could certainly be used to striking effect, although a cello would have a richer tone and range. It’s hard to think of another instrument that could be used as effectively by itself throughout the course of a whole film (whether short or not). What do you think?

“I’m disgusted with [the institution of classical music]. And I participated in it for a long time before I was able to articulate what bothered me. Basically, I don’t think the tradition is currently conducive to the masses. It’s a stuffy thing. To force someone to sit still and pay attention, it’s just alienating and furstrating. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone! But if you go somewhere and play some Scott Joplin, play some blues, and then sneak in some Beethoven, people are like, ‘Oh, man, that’s great! Some fine piano-playing right there.’ People like Beethoven, they really do. But if you present it in a lofty way, people will be put off, agitated, even insulted…. Ultimately, I would prefer to contribute to the atmosphere rather than be at the center of it. To be on stage and playing Rachmaninoff is a big responsibility. To say, ‘Okay, you have to be still and quiet and pay attention while I do this,’ well, hey, you better do it damn good. But if you’re playing where people are telling jokes and flirting and you’re contributing to that, that’s the whole point of sharing music. If people want to sit and listen quietly, they can do that, but if they want to get in fights, well, that’s fine, too.”

Although I wouldn’t say I’m “disgusted” with the institution of classical music, I do agree with his comments about it to some extent. That’s the reason why the institution is struggling all over the country–because it’s not conducive to the masses. And that’s why a lot of the contemporary classical music that matters isn’t being written for and performed in concert halls (though some of it is, to be sure). It’s being fused with popular music and played in spaces like galleries, lofts, and yes, even bars; places where it’s not portrayed as “sophisticated” or “high-brow,” for the “hallowed halls,” but for people to come together, hang out, share and enjoy. I certainly wouldn’t want my only experiences of listening to classical music to be in a noisy club. But if I knew of a bar nearby that played classical music, you’d definitely find me there a lot.

Cope’s case is that all great music is created by this process of synthesizing bits and pieces of music that the composer has heard before, which is of course true and seemed rather self-evident to me, though not (it appears) to the author of the article. But what do you think? Is there something “inherently distasteful” about composing through a computer–or rather letting a computer compose for you? Do you have any aesthetic objections to the process? Why or why not?

“I’ll Be Bach: A computer program is writing great, original works of classical music. Will human composers soon be obsolete?”

“The Wolf at Our Heels: The centuries-old struggle to play in tune”

In Feast Or Fallow, which was produced by Sandra’s frequent collaborator and always husband Derek Webb, is a followup to her 2005 album The Builder and the Architect. Both albums are comprised mainly of old hymn texts set to new music, sometimes written by Sandra herself and sometimes written by others, and several new songs written in a hymn-like style. She created a new website for this project, http://www.newoldhymns.com, which has information on her two hymns albums and includes a bunch of resources for reviving old hymns for a new generation. I am a big fan of The Builder and the Architect, and I’m eager to hear what Sandra and Derek have done on this new album.

I say I am eager to hear it, because I’ve decided to “liveblog” my first listen through the album: blogging as I listen, rather than writing my collected thoughts afterwards. I thought it might make for an interesting read (feel free to disagree in the comments if you don’t think it’s as good as a regular post). So, starting with track 1, here we go:

Track 1, “Petition” – The album starts with some interesting electronic sounds, heavily reverbed piano and shimmering high picking. Immediately something different from anything Sandra’s done before. The rhythms and meter are more syncopated and modern than the sometimes stiff rhythms of The Builder and the Architect. I like ‘em a lot. That album used acoustic instruments almost exclusively, heavily focused on guitar and piano, and none of the songs had a full drum set; this album starts at least with a wide variety of acoustic and electronic instruments, and I like the sound. Wish the vocals were mixed a little louder.

Track 2, “Can’t Help Myself” – Sandra sings “I confess the things I am afraid of”–she’s said that this CD is 15 different ways of asking the question, “What are we afraid of?” Nice layered vocals in the middle–a whole chours of Sandras. “Oh, trust the Lord, my soul, and all that is in me”: the answer to the fear.

Track 3, “A Narrow Cradle” – Instrumental track: a gradually growing progression of not-too-realistic but intentional samples. Something Derek did on his album Mockingbird, though in his case with real instruments. I dig it.

Track 4, “Justice Will Roll Down” – A more typical upbeat guitar/bass/drums groove. Adds an organ on verse 2; a great picture of the “new old hymns” idea. Noticing that the songs are pretty long; first was 5 minutes, second was 6, this one is 4 (rewritten hymns can tend to go by pretty quickly).

Track 5, “New Wonders” – Slower, more ballad-like, but the chord progression grabs me more so than any of the songs so far. Very Sandra-sounding, with idiomatic guitar sliding progressions and lots of suspended chords. The organ makes another appearance.

Track 6, “Give Reviving” – More production elements back in this song. I like the give-and-take between a more traditional sound and a more produced one; both feel natural rather than forced, and it makes for an album that’s never dull to listen to. Again I wish the vocals were just a little hotter in the mix; they tend to get just a little obscured by everything else.

Track 7, “This Is The Christ” – Again back to acoustic guitar and piano. I like the texture, with the picking guitar providing the main movement, and the piano providing only punctuating chords. The march snare beat is a little clichéd, but interesting in that it’s panned to the left and right on different beats.

Track 8, “Bands Of Angels” – The snare roll is carried over from the last song (without the marching beat). Another short instrumental track. I like the way that they break up the vocal songs; provides some variety on a pretty long album (15 tracks).

Track 9, “Hidden Place” – The high glockenspiel-type instruments/guitar pairing, along with the dark piano bass notes, reminds me of the sound of Sandra and Derek’s Ampersand EP album. The album recalls a lot of Sandra’s earlier works in multiple ways (chord progressions, instrumental textures), but simultaneously represents something totally new.

Track 10, “Eighty-Eight” – Starts with an accompaniment of only strings–creative texture, not just boring block chords.

Track 11, “In Feast Or Fallow” – The title track starts with a different singer (I think it’s Thad Cockrell), and also features Derek singing verse 2. The determined guitars make it sound like an anthem–albeit an anthem with much deeper and more meaningful lyrics than anthems typically have. I like the harmony of the three of them singing together, but the blend isn’t as tight as I’d like.

Track 12, “I Glory In Christ” – A song made up almost exclusively of produced sounds; reminiscent of Derek’s latest album, Stockholm Syndrome. Again a nice change-up from the guitar-based acoustic sound, and not at all out of place.

Track 13, “980 Anne Steele” – A bit of shifting meter here. Not as musically interesting as some of the other tracks, and the slow tempo makes it feel a little dragging. Kinda disappointed in this one.

Track 14, “Sweet Sorrow” – Nice finger-picking, but I was hoping it would be a little bit faster and more upbeat to pick up where the previous track took me down. Ending (particularly with the drums) feels a little awkward.

Track 15, “Faith’s Review & Expectation (Amazing Grace)” – This is, of course, one of the greatest and one of the most overdone hymns of all time; but Sandra said she wanted to record a version unlike anything you’ve heard before. She certainly succeeds with me. Starts off with just vocal and organ, but then the percussion and guitars kick in, followed by drums and organ. Rollicking in a folky kind of way; not what I’d call “rockin’,” but fun and upbeat nonetheless–and certainly very different. A few of her chord changes are unconventional and serve to change up the progression nicely. I’d like the texture to change a little more throughout the song, and particularly on the last verse to build rather than repeat a texture we’ve heard before. But she delivers a version of “Amazing Grace” simultaneously different from any I’ve heard and very patently her own.

My overall impression is of a record that is unmistakably a Sandra McCracken record, while taking her music in an entirely new creative direction. The juxtaposition of acoustic instruments and new electronic sounds is a perfect symbol of what she’s doing with the “new old hymns” concept, and produces a surprisingly coherent and natural synthesis that balances perfectly throughout. A very worthwhile listen, and one that makes me look forward with anticipation to what Sandra will do next.

In Feast Or Fallow officially releases tomorrow, April 27th, and can be bought on iTunes, Amazon and Sandra McCracken’s website.

“Why you’ve never really heard the ‘Moonlight’ Sonata”

Although my creative art of choice is music, I enjoy all other forms of art as well, particularly visual art (not least because my lovely wife is an illustrator and painter). And as a lover of all the arts, I’m continually exploring ways to apply concepts I appreciate in other arts—such as symbolism, imagery and negative space—to music. I recently finished composing a piece (which I may post about later in more detail) about the Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage. One of the symbols of the pilgrimage is a scallop shell:

and the modern symbol of the way is a representation that looks like this:

One of the ideas behind this symbol is that of many people coming from different starting points but converging upon one destination. So in trying to depict that idea musically, I have each of the eight parts play the same theme–but they enter at different times and play it at different rates. Each instrument takes the same pilgrimage, so to speak, but in its own unique way, just as individuals on a journey would. And a good deal of interest and conflict is created in the way that the parts interact as they play the same theme in different ways. But then in the end every part converges into a unison note.

So I’m always looking for ways like that to incorporate aspects of other types of art into my music. And I love this idea of tragedy and comedy–of the sadness of tragedy being what is expected, and the joy of comedy being what is unexpected. But I wonder how to portray that musically?

I was reminded why The Matrix is my favorite movie of all time. Great story, brilliant symbolism, great casting/performances, innovative special effects, killer action scenes, trenchcoats and sunglasses. And a stunning score. The composer is Don Davis, who scored all three Matrix movies and The Animatrix, but otherwise nothing too significant. After listening to the score again, though, I’m not sure why. The score is just as brilliant and innovative as the rest of the film, and is a perfect counterpart.

The main motif of the movie, which most people would immediately associate with the Matrix score, is swelling brass chords in alternating octaves. You can hear them in the opening moments of the movie, over the Warner Bros. and Village Pictures logos, and throughout the movie, usually at points where something particularly unbelievable has happened in the Matrix (Trinity’s leap between two buildings in the opening sequence, for example). On the Amazon product page you can hear them in track 8, “Bullet-Time;” if you watch the movie, listen for them as a recurring motif throughout.

The score also makes effective use of a wordless choir to evoke the otherworldliness and horror of the human fields (which you can hear in track 3, “The Power Plant”). The choir enters in very close intervals, creating clusters of notes that grow with the addition of brass clusters and other elements to create a big dissonant soundscape that corresponds with the emotions that the visuals create. Another effective use of vocals in the score is the wordless boy soprano, who sings a simple alternating melody over the montage of Neo’s awakening in the real world and being restored to health. In a similar manner as the choir, the wordless voice creates an otherworldly effect that corresponds to the literal other world that Neo is experiencing.

If you haven’t seen The Matrix in a while, or if you’ve never seen it, give it a watch and let me know what you think. Were there any other aspects of the score that you noticed, liked, or disliked? What stood out to you?