I'm very happy to be composing on this piece again -- I started it in 2010, soon after getting back from an October weekend spent in the live-in adventure that is Otherworld. Sleeping in a cabin in just above freezing temperature, out in the sun (it warmed up!) all day long, traipsing around looking for treasure, looking for clues, solving puzzles, as the story came to life around us. I attended with my sister Lucy. It was immersive, totally engaging and captivating, and the challenges were amazing to face. Truly life-transforming. And I can't say more because maybe YOU would like to attend, so I don't want to spoil the experience in any way! Otherworld.org is the URL — check it out.

The piece languished for over 10 years because I envisioned a pretty large orchestra, with percussion instruments including a music box and a marimba, and a mixed choir too. When was I ever going to have a chance to hear the composition come to life played by real people? I just got discouraged.

But now the sample sound library that comes with Sibelius Ultimate has improved enough that I can imagine just creating an audio version that I can share with people. For one thing, I can tolerate the violin sound up high now. So, starting with the notation, I'll have my computer record the play-back. And if I find another sample library that sounds better and isn't too expensive maybe I'll spring for it. I am looking at NotePerformer.

The upside of this "going for computer audio" approach is that instead of thinking I have two flutes, two clarinets, etc., I can have a whole flute choir suddenly if I want! Sorta like how in a jazz band all the sax players double on flutes and/or clarinets, so there can be music written for bunches of flutes.  Well I can do the same thing! Empowering. And I'm making great progress.

By the way, this was my sister Lucy's idea. Need to give her credit. Because she listened to the piece during a visit and was enjoying it so much and saying I needed to finish it, and she was just hearing the digitally sampled instrument sounds. Thank you Lu for the encouragement! 

So here is the sound file for Otherworld on SoundCloud! You'll hear I’m trying to capture all the moods of the weekend, spend long enough with each idea, etc. But still it will probably feel more like a trailer, just expressing bits and pieces of the story, the drama, the heroic and inspiring action, the solace of quiet moments, the grace under pressure, the beauty of the setting. 

Amazingly enough, I found the DVD that contained the video for Water Bear’s Light in Winter performance, and Tim Reppert, my hero, was able to edit it and mix the sound, and now it is up on our YouTube channel. This is the only significant footage that exists of any Water Bear line-up, and it pleases me no end to have it resurrected.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSrdkE0TZt_O_Id2r8wcY5vSt9xD9-Uoo

We collaborated with the evolutionary biologist David Sloan Wilson, whose book “Evolution for Everyone: “ I read and absorbed. Then I developed Name Music pieces that could bring to life three concepts from the book: Individual differences, social control, and expanding the circle of cooperation. In between our pieces, David gave two talks on the state of evolution and its application to daily life. David says in the talkback section at the end, that the dress rehearsal where he got to hear what we had prepared was a revelation to him, and led to him adjusting his talk to complement the music to some extent. A true collaboration, you see.

To illustrate individual differences, I wrote a piece based on our names: MerChrisNateBill, and had two of these themes be played “Bold” and two be “Shy”, at least initially. And we improvised with one of us taking the lead at a time, the others supporting. To illustrate social control, I wrote a Latin-infused piece: Community, in which one of us goes all out in soloing, beyond what is usually done, so extreme and socially overwhelming that then another one of us tries to bring back order to the group. You’ll need to watch to see who does what on this piece!

Then to illustrate expanding the circle of cooperation I wrote a piece that incorporates some audience singing participation: Planetary We. The audience singing the pitches for “We”, of course.

Two of the pieces turned out very classical, in a somewhat atonal but still pleasing way, but the Water Bear musicians were of course more than equal to the task of bringing out the best in the pieces. These guys: Bill Cowdery on piano, Chris White on cello, and Nate Richardson on electric fretless bass, are excellent professional musicians! I played violin of course, and also sang at times, including leading audience singing in Planetary We. What fun! And beautiful music, even if I do say so myself.

At the time I also remember that preparing all the comments and instructions I would need to talk about was terrifying to me! I had to practice the talking sections many times, and wrote them out in large type so that I could essentially read them if I needed to. Very odd, because playing violin and singing does not terrify me — apparently it is public speaking that terrifies me! But in the end, watching the video, I can see that I did pretty well — that I was able to look at the audience fairly often, and there are parts where I am not glued to my notes as much as I feared I would be. And I make jokes! I seem comfortable! How great to see this version of myself, and have a chance to re-frame my relationship with public speaking.

 Back in January of 2009, Crucial Music started accepting my Water Bear trio and quartet recordings for pitching to TV & film placements. It took 4 years before my pieces were placed anywhere, but in the years since, these wonderful performances have appeared in TV shows like Touch (Fox), Agents Of Shield (ABC), streaming shows like Mozart in the Jungle (Amazon), cable TV (The Magicians on SyFy), and an indie film (In Search of Fellini). 

It's sporadic, but not only do I receive the initial placement fee (I’ve received anywhere from $75 to $2000), but also royalties ongoing from ASCAP domestically and internationally. These royalties often surpass the initial placement fee amount but take far longer to trickle down to me after the shows air.

Recently I’ve been on a kick to supply Crucial Music with fresh material — they haven’t placed any of my pieces since 2019, and I suspect there’s been lots of changes in their business model. There seems to be so much music created by synthesized performances that sound almost as good as real instruments, show runners being able to hire composers more easily, and perhaps changes in perception around using music without permission is fine. All of this leads to Crucial Music needing to re-define how they operate. Probably fees have gotten lower, the value of what I’ve been able to supply them with has diminished.

And I’ve also noticed that shorter pieces are more suitable now, as if everyone’s attention spans are getting shorter and shorter, and there is no point to a piece longer than about 1-2 minutes, because the uses for that music are going to be much shorter. And Crucial Music has accepted pieces from me that are 15-30 seconds!

So I’ve been going back over my catalog (as we like to call it in the business!) and re-listening to pieces that are close to 1 minute long to get my next batch of submissions ready. Crucial Music only accepts 3 pieces at a time, and since they’ve had to trim down personnel, the process which used to take only a couple of weeks has now stretched out to 4 months or more.

Over this weekend I’ve selected three pieces, and now I’ll get them ready for submission. Mostly I need to get in the mood for describing them attractively, putting into words the qualities each has so that they will be findable on the database that Crucial Music maintains for anyone looking to license tracks. I try to be objective in picking the keywords, but does anyone else hear what I hear in my own compositions? I can get into a crisis of a lack of confidence, that is what I need to overcome in order to proceed! Wish me luck!

 Every now and then I play through older pieces that I never finished for one reason or another, and Ginny is one of these pieces. It was written to honor a close friend of Jerome, the financial client and friend I took care of in 2017 in what turned out to be his final illness. When I met Ginny I was very struck by her strength and determination, her stubbornness and out-front character, as well as her inner kindness and fortitude in taking care of her husband with his health issues. So I wanted her piece to capture all of this! Perhaps I set the bar too high? 

The A section I wrote in 2017 came out beautifully, but while I had a basic germ of an idea for the B section, I couldn’t get it to come out right, and basically wore a groove in my brain with that part, such that I couldn’t hear a different part emerging from the A section. Oh no! I was in a composing rut!

Over the years since 2017, I’ve continued to tug at this puzzle in Ginny: what was wrong, and how to fix? I would sometimes be able to hear a new part in my head, a sort of direct download from the universe. I would play it successfully, but then when I went to go capture it on paper, perhaps trying to change the notation on the older version, that older version would re-assert itself in my brain, and I’d lose the new version! So I realized I needed to record myself playing the new idea. But then my iPhone would not be nearby, and I would try to keep the new version alive in my head while I went to get the phone, and lose it by the time I found my phone. Heavens.

But today, I had success! By chance, my phone was nearby when I tried playing Ginny, and I decided to record before I knew whether I would have success coming up with a new part or not. And it worked! What emerged was a way of having the form be AABA, with the B section leading back into the A section harmonically. I wasn’t set on using this structure; I was open to having the structure be AABB, but so far I am pleased with this structure, although satisfied is a better word perhaps, as I sense it in my belly.

I won’t know for sure until I play my new version a few more times, over the weeks ahead, and see if my belly still likes the piece, or if there are other changes to be made, but for now it makes me happy, like how I feel after ingesting the right nutrient for my body.

So I’ve been working on a piece to honor Grant McFarlane, the wonderful accordion player and composer in Paisley, Scotland that I’ve been emailing with and exchanging compositions. 

Using the pitches that spell out “Grant”, I found myself writing in Am. I was struck by the similarity to another Name Music piece — yes, Anthony! They share some of the same beginning letters! So I tried out rhythms for the pitches that were DIFFERENT from what I had done with Anthony. The melody seemed to flow out of me easily, with an A section in Am, a B section in Dm, a natural-sounding structure of AABB, a waltz rhythmic feel, and all was well. I entered my hand-written notation into Sibelius right away, because I had arrows all over the place with the ideas for each section, it was not in very good linear order and I didn’t want to have to work too hard to re-create the order!

Then, I worked on the chords right away. To do this I usually have my computer play the notation while I pluck the chords on the violin. I’m mostly concerned about what the root of the chord would be, and since 5ths are so easy to double stop on the violin, I’ll often play open 5ths for the chords.

This is how I ended up with a piece that was in Am, with a B section in Dm. Lovely! Here it is:

But then!

I decided to write a harmony line right away, which I don’t usually do. Sometimes because I’ve run out of time, sometimes because I’ve run out of composing steam. But today I was still energized, so I gave it a whirl. The way I approach composing the harmony is usually some combination of singing it silently, or out loud, while playing the chords and holding the melody in my head. 

The idea that emerged for very first measure was striking, because it involved a downward motion involving a C#. Okay, this is over a supposedly Am chord, with a C natural. However, since I was playing only the root and fifth of the Am, I had no third dictating to me. Decision time! In the past, I’ve rebuked myself and started over if I make a “mistake” like that. This time I decided to go with it, make the A section in A major somehow — and that lead to it having more of a modal character, A major to G major chords. Here is the A section:

Quite a delight! Key signature of A major. And you'll see that the only melody notes of C natural that ended up adjusted to C# are in measures 8 and 10. Interesting. The B part I kept in D minor, with a simple harmony line.

After a few days I played through both versions again, and lo and behold, I really like both! I like the plain and appealing A minor solo version, and I like the more harmonically elaborate A major version as well. It strikes me as being a Water Bear type piece, with many possibilities for improvising. So — I think I’ll send him both pieces, and we’ll see what he says!

 One of the side effects of releasing an album a couple of weeks ago from our 2002 Live At Annabel Taylor Chapel concert, is the resurgence of my memories of the early Water Bear experience — both in how we recorded in the studio, what our rehearsals were like, our gigs, and the magical things that happened.

Even though the early Name Music pieces I wrote were in fiddle tune form — AABB, and most often in 6/8 or 3/4 time, I wanted the pieces to be like jazz also, and like the Mahavishnu Orchestra as well, if possible!  So I liked the idea of trying to create the conditions for all possible magic to occur, without specifying exactly WHAT magic, WHEN. How about if we were to improvise the arrangement, and have the “rule” that for any of the sections each of us to could choose whether to play or not, and if playing, whether we played the chords, the melody, the harmony, or improvised over the chords? And what if we agreed that we would stay with our choice through that section, and could only change it up when the next section started? Even if 3 of us ended up all playing the melody in unison? Or any other combination? And what if the ending was also improvised, meaning we would need to listen well to each other to create a satisfying ending to the piece, when it felt like it was complete? 

Well this indeed is the “structure” we followed for our performances and recording sessions for the early Name Music pieces — perhaps at least the first 20-30 of them. Certainly for Ann, Barbara, Bill, Bob, Carla, David, Peter, and John.

And it is about performing John at the Fall Creek Elementary schoolyard that I’ve recently remembered. It was the full quartet: me & Ruth Roland on violins, Hank Roberts on cello, and Tim Reppert on bass, and we set up in front of the brick wall of the school, so that we would be able to hear each other with our sound bouncing off the wall behind us. We had played many pieces, were perhaps close to the end of the gig. It was a benefit, people were milling around, children playing on the playground equipment.

I started the piece off, playing the melody. I may have said “I’ll bow the melody” in an aside to Ruth before I started playing. And it had a lovely sound, solo violin, I was playing with as much feeling as that piece always evokes in me. But in any case, what happened next was … nothing! No one else came in, no one else played anything — I was playing solo, for what seemed like forever, in fact was for the whole of the piece. Nobody ever DID come in. I tried giving them each the hairy eyeball, they just eyeballed back at me. As I remember, when it seemed to me that it was time to wrap the piece up, they all entered on the last chord, as my bow drew out the long last high note. And That Was It. That was the “improvised” arrangement of John at that gig.

Well it was sorta lovely, and it made me laugh partly from the joy of it, and also from a sort of embarrassment that it ended up being me playing solo (and hoping I had done the piece justice!), and then I asked why they didn’t join me. Ruth said it was beautiful just the way it was, a nice contrast to so many other pieces with all of us playing all the time, together. A restful break to just hear solo violin. And Hank and Tim agreed, thought it sounded so lovely just the way it was, they didn’t want to ruin it! They could hear the magic was present, so why mess with it? 

Isn’t that a lovely memory to have? 

Sadly, Tim Reppert lost his father Nelson in September, after a period of declining health. Nelson was an amazing man who led a very full life of service and fun in his many roles — as a pastor, as a musician, as a husband, father, grandfather, and friend. He reminded quite a lot of my own father, who died in 1988 in his open-mindedness and curiosity, in the twinkle in his eye, in the firm place music, laughter, and silly fun had in his life. 

So I was very consoled by being able to write him a Name Music piece — I recorded both parts (overdubbing myself!) and sent it to Tim. And then I also offered to contribute my violin-playing to the memorial event at Stewart Park in October. Tim put together a jazz band with trombone (Nelson’s instrument), Nate Richardson on guitar, Doug Robinson on upright bass, John White on electric piano, and me.  Nelson loved jazz apparently. However, MY jazz chops are SO rusty! I was in the vocal jazz program at City College back in the early 1980s, and played violin and sang in several bands after that in the Oneonta NY area (and I did a gig or two in Ithaca!), but it has been YEARS since I engaged with any of that repertoire! So I practiced like a maniac, especially on the couple of pieces I was assigned to “lead”, one of which I had never even heard before.

But this is the second decade of the 21st century, and guess what? Now everything is online! I was able to practice against music minus one tracks, hear the original recordings of the pieces, listen to several different versions, and really go deep so much more easily than was possible in the 80s. I listened and played so much I had these pieces running in my mind 24x7, which was a mostly pleasurable experience.

Well it was such a treat to play out in public, for such a lovely event, with such talented musicians! I was definitely the weakest link, but I tried to do my best not to let the side down. I stood right next to Doug, so at least I could really hear the bass, so I would stay grounded in the chord changes. Plus I did have a familiarity with many of the tunes on the set list. The acoustics are very strange in that space, as John White reminded us — subtlety was not going to be possible. And it was very very hot as well, oddly for the middle of October in was up in the high 90s, with high humidity. We had a large fan blowing on us constantly — a saving grace but also a noise contributor! 

Despite all the challenges there were lots of magical moments in the music-making, times of ESP among us, leading Doug at one point to be amazed that Nate and I could play a melody line in unison and I could match his phrasing just about perfectly. He asked if we had played together before, which made me laugh. I thought he was joking, but he was serious. I told him about Water Bear. I imagine he is so busy as a professional musician that he doesn’t have the band-width required to know anything about a little-known group from so long ago.

And Doug sang What a Wonderful World beautifully twice, the second time a request towards the end of the event. So lovely! And what a fitting tribute to Nelson. A fine man. A big loss.

 In 2020-2021 I composed Name Music pieces for many of the loved ones we’ve lost — aunts and uncles, cousins, friends, parents of friends, nephews and nieces of friends. This has helped me to grieve for them, this focusing in on the qualities they brought to life, and translating those qualities to musical expression. 

Yes I’m still using the letters-to-pitches mapping system I devised back in 2000 to inspire the beginning of the melody, but I’ve also been modifying the “rules” as often as I feel drawn to doing, in order to make a melody flow better and be easier to play. Mostly this means using the pitch in a different octave so that it is closer to the other pitches, so I can some of the string crossings (big leaps in melody) and have more step-wise, easy melody.

In “Abra” for example, the R is the pitch of E, in the second octave above middle C, (the open E string), but the other pitches are on the low G string, below middle C! So I moved the E down an octave so it is on the D string. Here’s what that change looks like -- pay attention to the first full measure.

Before:

After:

And it is much easier to play, without the big leap.

I decided to do the same thing but in the opposite direction with “Paul”, this time for the “a”, which would map as the A pitch below middle C (on the G string), but I put it up the octave — the other pitches would be played on the A and D strings, so it makes for less radical string crossings.

Before:

 After:

Sometimes though, the big leap is a key feature of one of the qualities of the person that I want to express — so for example in the piece “Guido”, in the first measure I kept the low G pitch of the first letter, and kept the Bb pitch of the second letter “u” in the higher octave (played on the A string), so the string crossing gives a sort of lumbering effect, which reminded me of how my uncle Guido walked. The way I “broke the rules” for the “Guido” piece instead was to wait on playing the “o” pitch (a B natural) until later in the piece (measure 5), and then yes I play the B in the lower octave, on the G string.

Guido:

Okay so I guess I’m all over the map on how I let the pitch system inspire me. But isn’t that what creativity and restrictions are all about? Letting the guardrails guide and inspire until they are too restrictive, at which point, let yourself burst out of the confines!

Very satisfying to me, composing is.

 Yes! A small bunch of us got together and played some music, at the First Congregational Church, with the windows open, the ceiling fans going full speed, and distanced. Ruth Roland and her family were up from Baton Rouge delivering son Cole to Cornell for the beginning of his PhD studies, which was the impetus for getting together. Bill Cowdery, Nate Richardson, and I were able to attend, Chris White could not (for a very sad reason, as his daughter Liana passed away the day before), Hank Roberts could not (due to his busy touring schedule) but in a lovely development Cole played violin with us as well. We had a three-violin sound! That made my heart sing.

And the session was remarkable, to now have the next generation of bears learning this music, and participating in the fun, in what I like to think of as the Water Bear magic. We played mostly older pieces from our repertoire, both Ruth’s compositions and mine, but also played a piece of Ruth’s that while older, never got an outing in New York, though it was popular with her trio (violin, trombone, and bass) in Baton Rouge. A beautiful and striking piece called  .

And Ruth had put on the set list my recently-composed piece Guido (in memory of my uncle who died of Covid in 2020), which was a lovely treat to hear brought to life in this grouping. To my ears we were of course missing the bottom of Tim Reppert’s bass! So important to me, as I’m pretty satisfied with bass and melody lines creating the music. But the chordal support was tremendous with both piano and guitar joining in, and I didn’t know how much I had missed the discussions around what the chords really should be. That is an aspect of composing these fiddle-tune-like pieces that is still challenging for me, as I do hear the harmonic structure in my head to some degree, but have trouble naming just what the chord might be.

I don’t often hear complicated, jazz influenced chordal tones: 7ths (though sometimes major 7ths!), flat 5ths, let alone 9ths, 11ths, etc. I do pretty well figuring out the triad — root, third, fifth (or rarely, 6th), but mostly don’t want those additional notes showing up in the chords, even if they are passing tones in the melody. I tend to want the harmonic structure/environment to be sparse — more of a canvas on which the melody can lay out the picture.

And it is important not to have the chordal instruments fighting each other sonically — and not a concern here because Nate and Bill play so well together, and of course they each “get me” and my pieces, too.

Guido was lovely to hear! And we got to play it twice, which was even more of a treat, since everyone was more comfortable with it the second time around. Nate said he was really enjoying how the A part and B part interacted with each other — each leading you to the other, so that he wanted to play the piece all night long. What a fun reaction to hear! Magic indeed. I do think I am trying to balance the sections when I write in a fiddle tune style, but I’m not always as successful as Guido.

Definitely this reunion music get-together was the musical highlight of my summer!

 Yesterday I was successful at warding off various potential distractions from emails, workmen painting the outside of our house, and scheduling changes for various appointments for myself and Bear! Instead I played violin early in the morning, and found myself (surprisingly) able to compose quickly and easily, the flow was happening!

What came out was in a waltz rhythm, and in the key of E major (using the D# was an idea that had come to me a day or two previous, arising out of learning to play a piece that Peter Blue wrote for me, called Reel de Mer, which somehow got my fingers going with staying in a straight major key), and suddenly the whole piece made sense.

I like how the piece seems so much more cheerful and spry, which is how I think of Bette, and also seems extroverted and sociable. But an odd little phrase showed up in the middle that I recognized from somewhere, an interval that evoked singing somehow. It took a little bit for me to realize that this snippet came from the round Under the Greenwood Tree. Hm. Is that a problem? Should I try to change that? I’m still contemplating it — I’ll need to try out the piece on different days and see what emerges. There may be other changes that need to happen.

Another urge I’ve had is to also play the basic melody as a reel, which would be very fun as well — put that section in the middle, with the waltz as beginning and end. Initially I wrote that this was an “idea”, but actually the sensation I have is not so much mental as physical, and seems to come from my belly, my gut in particular. But of course my mind is also active! And my mind is saying that perhaps I’m getting ready to immerse myself in a longer form piece now — I’d like a chamber group or orchestra to request a commission! 

Now, who might do such a thing?