Moving forward (Day 216/365)

Amazingly I was quite creative today.

At school, I finished the hearing impaired morning announcement video. Everyone thinks I’m just grand to have accomplished it, and I guess Final Cut Express looks impressive enough to dazzle most people. Actually, I did do a good job with it. It looks very nice.

I received confirmation that the Cultural Arts Commission is in agreement to help us out with William Blake, although I think their support at this point is still a little fuzzy. No matter, it’s enough to move forward with. I called and confirmed the dates of April 29-May 3 for rehearsals and performance at Wadsworth Auditorium. I am to write a letter to the mayor and city council referencing the Cultural Arts Commision and Global Achievers and our ties to Scotland, asking for a waiver of all fees for the space.

Bette Hickman, our intrepid producer, wants to make it open to the public, and I had come to the same conclusion. This could be a really big thing.

I got email done to all our participants, informing them of our new successive approximations.

I got a couple more measures of the Sunflower Waltz scored.

I worked on the official proposal for the Cultural Arts Commission.

I created Lacuna stationery.

I started a storyboard for Sun & Moon Circus.

That should be enough, don’t you think?

Workshop, 3/6 (Day 215/365)

Lots going on today. First of all, I videotaped our hearing impaired students saying the Pledge of Allegiance for their announcements for Friday morning. It’s Exceptional Children’s Week, and all week students from different areas have been leading the pledge and also telling about famous people in the past who were or would have been in special needs classes. One of the hearing impaired students signed a couple of paragraphs about Helen Keller.

Their teachers originally wanted to narrate the video, but I dissuaded them. Well, OK, I forbade them. This is the kids’ moment, and I told the teachers I would close caption the video. What about the little kids who can’t read, they asked. Their teachers will read it to them, I pointed out.

Anyway, I spent a lot of the day editing the video in Final Cut Express, structuring it like the morning announcements, putting cheesy “news” music under the lead-ins, close captioning the Pledge and the Helen Keller bit. I even put photos of Helen Keller over the shoulder of the student, cross-fading between each one.

At Lacuna workshop (Dale, Marc, Laura, Melissa, and Carol Lee in attendance), we were productive as usual, although in a different way this week. I brought my worries about the calendar to the table, and we hashed that out. Part of my worries has to do with not knowing whether we have a place to perform this, and we talked about that. I know that our producing arm is working on it, but it makes me very anxious not to know.

To make a long evening short, we decided to keep working Tuesday nights (7:30 for those who would like to join us) for the rest of March, getting together our design concepts and choreographing the two staged pieces.

The first week of April is spring break, and many of us will be in New York City. And I don’t think I’ve mentioned that we will be having lunch with Nancy Willard! She’s coming down from Poughkeepsie, and we get to meet her! I’m still excited about that.

Then, starting April 10, we will meet Tuesdays and Wednesdays and begin dragging in the casts of Man in the Marmalade Hat and Two Sunflowers. Actually, on April 10, we’ll invite the members of the chorus to come and work on a little blocking/physicalization of their part of this thing.

Sometime in April, we’ll hold a weekend color-cut-and-paste session where we can build and paint stuff we need all at once.

We buckled down and got our What We Need and Who We Need done for Man in the Marmalade Hat. (Lurkers, there’s lots you can do. More than enough. Get to work.)

We realized that at some point we need to storyboard Sun & Moon Circus so we can deliberately produce visuals for the multimedia part of the concert. I also shared that I had envisaged staging “production photos” of that and other pieces for the multimedia, i.e., photo a kid tossing up a planet balloon and use that as a visual.

Carol Lee had done a different successive approximation of a sunflower, one using a glove. We’re still undecided between the glove and the crossbar on manipulating the sunflowers. She will work on those this week.

Laura wants to work on a prototype for the hedgehog costume. (Dale will start working with Laura’s mom’s kindergarten hedgehogs this week.)

Marc will work on design concepts for the Inn itself. We did decide that for May, we can get away with simple suggestions.

Dale will work on prototypes for the Toast Heads (the MMH’s marching band).

Melissa, were you working on something? I didn’t write it down.

Everyone is to work on visuals for the winter/spring motifs for the MMH’s banners.

Worries (Day 213/365)

I’ve started getting antsy about rehearsals for William Blake’s Inn. It’s time to begin planning our final approach, because at some point soon we have begin involving a larger number of “others”: troupe of sunflowers, marchers in MMH, hedgehogs, etc. We have to decide whether we want to invite our octet to take part in the actual staging. We have to set up times for all these people to be… where?

We have to convince someone, who?, to help with constructing sunflowers, banners, pennants; costumes for the Band. What will we do re: costume/indications for the octet as soloists? How involved does our May performance have to be in order to make its point to those we assume to be unimaginative enough to require our having to do all this?

When should we start getting the octet back together?

I’ve proposed May 3 as our performance date, but at this point we have no firm date or space for the performance. Perhaps we can plan not knowing these details, but I’m having a hard time even successively approximating what to do next.

In other news, I was very nearly creative today. After nearly two hours in an optometrist’s office in Greensboro, I retrieved my laptop and began writing this post. Then I pulled up the Sunflower Waltz and got exactly four measures fixed before they finally finished with Grayson.

Workshop, 2/27 (Day 208/365)

Another amazing Tuesday Lacuna workshop. Tonight, it was me, Marc, and Melissa.

Molly with sunflower puppet prototypesI had mocked up the heads of two sunflowers in the Troupe and made some leaves, so we began by attaching elastic to our feet, then to the crossbars of the flowers. We stapled the leaves to the elastic, and then we played. We played with making the sunflowers grow, making the leaves bounces. We studied how sunflowers would move, how they would jump, how they would dance. We played with one sunflower each, then two, having them relate to each other and to other sunflowers.

The sunflower waltz has turned out be quite workable. It is big and glorious, but that works. I shall finish orchestrating it as it stands.

An interesting thing happened this afternoon as I prepared the CD for rehearsal. I’ve been working on a chopped up version of Two Sunflowers, mostly because I didn’t want to mess with the original in case something went dreadfully wrong (as it appeared had happened first thing this morning when the cellos and basses wouldn’t make any sound for a while.) This afternoon I pasted the song itself back on to the beginning of the waltz segment, which then of course recaps with the second verse of the song. This da capo structure was suddenly, terrifically poignant: the two sunflowers have declared their intention of staying with William Blake, then their Troupe engages in this huge, liberated waltz, and then they come back to their two friends to bid farewell. As the Troupe leaves, the lyrics come to us again, “They both took root in the carpet…” It’s sort of sad in a way that wasn’t there before.

Anyway, we did a lot of good, solid work exploring the movement of sunflowers and positing ways for the waltz to be choreographed.

Here’s what we need: five sunflower Troupe members; the Two Sunflowers; the tea set; the suitcases; the turtle train; an angel costume; a small table for tea. Personnel: the Two Sunflowers (currently sung by Ginny and Denise); five dancer/puppeteers; one angel; and a rabbit, to serve the tea. Lacuna members, check out the What We Need page for details.

Moving on to The Man in the Marmalade Hat Arrives, we did another round of amazing brainstorming. We’ve written the lyrics on a huge stretch of paper so we can start choreographing/blocking, but we haven’t written anything yet.

What all did we decide? The Band/Parade phalanx is slightly creepy in their “inexorable” march forward, but the MMH moves the piece toward something a little more silly as it progresses. Quasi-military band uniforms. Oversized breakfast implements?: spoons for the drumsticks, plates for the cymbals, etc. Discussed some blocking for the MMH, mostly freeing him from a line-by-line literalization. Band moves UL to C; Chorus moves DR to C; both move L to the Parade Ground, joined by the Gang from the Inn. Close order drill.

The banners remain as Parade Ground backdrop for the second half, switching front-to-back as spring arrives. We affirmed the idea of the ice sprites as middle-aged men in loincloths. It’s the kind of detail that will rattle audience expectations. Now all we have to do is find middle-aged men who will wear silver-blue body paint and little else, who can also summon up their youthful ballet training to move across the stage. That shouldn’t be too hard, should it? (I reiterate that I plan to be wearing a tux and sitting in the audience next to Nancy Willard.)

We had a large discussion of the Gang and characters in general, as in how we would portray them. Lots of ideas floated around, pros and cons of having actors in costumes to puppets (and what kinds). An overall design concept: if we allow ourselves to stray from natural colors, then it becomes easier to identify characters whether they are being portrayed by singer/actors or by puppets.

For example, we want a singer playing the King of Cats for his two solos because we need the actor’s face for those showstoppers to work. So we can put the King of Cats in a purple morning coat, perhaps with a green waistcoat (slightly furry), with a high white collar. Then when we get to the Milky Way, the King of Cats would be protrayed by a rod puppet, with all the flexibility of levitation that puppets allow, and it would be not only okay but wonderful for the cat to be a real cat, but a purple tabby with a green chest and an actual high white collar. Flexibility of vision and execution.

I’m sure there’s more. Melissa and Marc, make comments.

Our motto du jour is “Successive Approximation.” Everything we do is a slight change on what we’ve done before; nothing is the final word. I think I shall open up a section in my online store for Lacuna, and one of the t-shirt designs will say, “What you’re looking at is a Successive Approximation.”

Musings (Day 206/365)

It only takes a lovely spring-like afternoon, a lovely meal in preparation, Mahler’s 9th Symphony, and two or three Hotel Miyako Specials, to make one feel nostalgic. Or in my case, self-satisfied.

I got a lot done on my winter break. I didn’t get everything done that I wanted to do, but a lot of what I didn’t finish is being held up by stuff I need from others: tax forms, server glitches, that kind of thing. So I’ll return to work tomorrow with not a lot undone.

Foremost of all this “stuff” I got done is the sunflower waltz passage. No, I haven’t finished orchestrating it yet, but I did get it finished. Where it petered out yesterday, it now continues with one final repetition of the rising phrase (“our traveling habits have tired us”), then, as I predicted, closes with the “topaz tortoises” phrase, followed by a breaking up of the “Ah, William” phrase to bring us down.

Still some things to smooth out, as usual, but I think I’m done with it, enough for us to play with it on Tuesday.

I’ve been struck by a phrase from Ken Robinson’s Out of Our Minds, which I’m still reading: successive approximation. It describes perfectly the way I’ve worked on the music, especially this sunflower waltz, and the way we’ve been working on the staging. People think, erroneously, that these kinds of things get “created,” that we think them up and just write them down or do them.

But of course we don’t. We put something down, anything, and look at it. What’s missing? What’s wrong? Where could it go next? Is it a dead end? We erase, we change, we nudge it one way or the other. Each step is an approximation, and the truth is that the final product is just the last of our educated guesses.

More sunflower waltz (Day 205/365)

A quick post this morning: I’ve been listening to the sunflower waltz over and over. It’s gotten to the point that I need to take a break from it and come back later with fresher ears.

But that won’t stop you from listening to it. Here’s an mp3 file of the sunflower waltz, as of 2/24. You will hear the thing start to peter out after the second climax, as the orchestra gets to the “counted the steps of the sun” line.

In case you’re wondering, as I was most of last night, how I’m going to get us down from this high perch, I think it will be relatively easy: finish out the verse with the “topaz tortoises” line, getting quieter as we go along, then use the “Dear William” phrase tossed back and forth from section to section to return us to the calm (and key) of the actual song. From there, we sigh back into the violas divisi, and let the chorus repeat the “They arranged themselves at the window” verse. Fini.

We’ll see if I get back to this today, what with Wadsworth tonight.

More sunflower waltz (Day 204/365)

It was as I suspected: lackluster piano scores can be camouflaged by bumptious orchestration.

Of course, one thing we’re looking at is that an orchestral score is not a piano score. A piano sonata, one by Scarlatti, say, is effective because it’s conceived for the sonorities of the piano. (Well, if Scarlatti wrote for the piano. Did he? Or was he a harpsichord/clavicembalo kind of guy?) Expanding the piano sonata to be played by an orchestra is a fruitless kind of excercise, because the sound-world created by an orchestra is not one inhabited by the sonata, i.e., piano sonatas do not scale up.

Likewise, orchestral pieces do not scale down. We will encounter this problem when we start working on William Blake’s Inn for real, because Milky Way, for example, is unplayable on the piano; I wrote it for the orchestra from the very beginning. Similarly, Man in the Marmalade Hat was never written for the piano alone (unlike most of the other early pieces); it has always required an unrealistic battery of percussion.

So yes, I’m being too picky to accuse myself of cheating through whiz-bang orchestration. Perhaps it’s an indicator that I’m starting to think in orchestral terms, which is problematic, because when will I ever have an orchestra at my disposal?

Another issue I’m having with the sunflower waltz is that it begins sweetly enough, a nice little accelerando poco a poco that gives us time for the sunflowers to nod to each other, wake up, establish themselves as “persons.” But it rapidly becomes this huge waltz, a glorious corps de ballet moment, and it doesn’t seem to want to back down. I made notes last night during intermission of Don’t Hug Me at NTC , Note to Laurel and Lamar: darlings, I love you, but that was an execrable waste of your brilliant talent, time, and the company’s money. I was in pain the entire evening, notes to back off the second climax and pull the thing back to a “Skater’s Waltz” kind of level, more in keeping with a small troupe of sunflowers.

But when I got home and listened to it again, that second climax did not want to be pulled back. So maybe we’re going to have a big, Tchaikovskian moment whether we want one or not. Oh well, if we get it into the studio and don’t like it, I’ll just write another one.

Now that I have Finale back up and running, it occurs to me that I still need to orchestrate Man in the Marmalade Hat and Make Way. Are those the only two I have left? [update: Heavens, no, there is also The Tale of the Tailor. ::deflating::]

More sunflower waltz (Day 203/365)

Okay, now the number of days is beginning to scare me.

It was another productive day, more work on the sunflower waltz in Two Sunflowers. I have gotten the piece mostly sketched out, and I think I’m about ready to begin quasi-orchestrating it, mostly because I’m having doubts about it. In the past, it seems, whenever I begin to think that the music itself is inadequate, I’ve found that by reorganizing it vertically, so to speak, I can rediscover why I thought I was “finished” with it in the first place. Hopefully that will happen here.

On the other hand, it’s still clunky, I think. Parts are lovely and interesting, but the in-between bits are lackluster. I’ll fiddle with it a little longer, probably, before investing the time to orchestrate the whole thing.

In other news, I got a new USB hub and everything works just fine. I think it was just a matter of the new laptop requiring USB 2.0 fixtures rather than the old 1.1 bits. It really helped in the work today to turn my back on the computer and just play with keyboard and paper.

Also, in looking over the blog here, I noticed that the new layout/theme does something funky with italics and bold. It makes the italics bold and the bold all caps. I don’t think I like that. I’m going to mess with the CSS stylesheet and see what happens. [Note: I did fix it. Now I’ve noticed that the theme is not fixed-width, which means that the line-length of the text may get too long for comfortable reading… Hm….]

Sunflower waltz (Day 202/365)

I was actually productive today, although as usual there were some technical glitches slowing me down.

I made a copy of Two Sunflowers Move into the Yellow Room and chopped off the front part. I added lots and lots o’ blank measures, and then pasted the “they arranged themselves” section at the end as a reprise. In between, in the blanks, I played.

The technical glitch I encountered is that my USB hub, which allowed me to plug in my wireless keyboard and the wide-format printer and the MIDI keyboard, no longer works with the new laptop. I can’t think of a single reason why that should be so, but it’s true. So if I wanted to work on paper, using the keyboard, I had to unplug the computer keyboard and plug in the MIDI keyboard, and vice versa. It was a pain.

However, I got lots done, with several interesting passages scribbled down. Nothing worth hearing yet, and all fragments, but as Marc said in comments to Tuesday night, it’s the getting ideas out there that makes it all work. I’ll try to start organizing the ideas more strenuously tomorrow.

It’s interesting that having waited this late to deal with it, the music can now reflect the ideas we had about the sunflowers, rather than the reverse.

Workshop, 2/20 (Day 201/365)

Another meeting of the workshop group tonight. In attendance were me, Marc, Galen, Molly, and Kevin McInturff.

We started by discussing items we had found over the week. I had two new puppet books to show. Marc had brought in some architecture books (one of Georgian period architecture, over which I drooled.)

I realized as I pulled in to the parking lot that after I got Finale 2006 working yesterday, I should have worked on extending the sunflower waltz, since that’s what we were working on tonight. Oh well. That’s what tomorrow is for.

[Yes, I played with Finale 2006 this morning/afternoon. Everything is as it should be with GPO sounds, in fact, better than it was, since it was working fine before except for the memory issue. Now that my new laptop has 3GB of memory, Finale 2006 performs fine. I can leave Finale 2007 out of the picture for the time being.]

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