RSS Feed updated

I have put only the commission pieces on my feed for now.  There's a brand new one up that was commissioned by Team G(race) for an upcoming YouTube Ad they will be promoting soon.  I had two inspirations in writing this piece:  One, it needed to have a beat that you could run to and two, I decided to start the piece with a minor key and transition it to a major key to give the impression of accomplishment.  Comments are welcome!

Team G(race) spaghetti dinner

I had the honor of playing the dinner music for a Team G(race) event last night.  The turnout was impressive, the food was great and the atmosphere was tangible.  Congratulations, Brett, on a successful evening.

Thank you to everyone who came out to support me as well as this event and Team G(race).

First rehearsal of Amazing Grace

Last Thursday night was the first ever live rehearsal of "Amazing Grace," including 10 different instrumentalists.  This was not only the first rehearsal of that particular piece, it was my personal debut as an orchestral composer.

First of all, I would like to send out a general thank you to everyone involved in making this happen.  The entire orchestra, the director, lighting and sound, all of my musical consultants...  Secondly, I want to try and describe that evening as best I can, if only for me to be able to reflect on this later.

For so long, my music has been solely mine.  Many have heard it, but if I personally do not have a hand (or two) in creating it, my music would not exist in the world.  But now, my music exists in a different form.  Here are ten people who are involved in making this piece come to life.  I have been to concerts before, I have been in awe of and envied the Yanni's of the world (still am, actually), I have even written pieces for more than just piano before, but here, for the first time, I feel like the soul of my music is out of my hands; it has been shared with a larger group of people to help me give it away to the world.  While freeing and exciting, I am extremely anxious.

I wanted Thursday night to last for hours and hours, but, in reality, it was only about thirty minutes.  The point at which I started "recording" the memory in my head is when the glockenspiel player started practicing his part.  I decided to hide my cell phone, forget what time it was and just soak in the experience as it unfolded in front of me.  I want to describe the evening in my inner voice as if it's happening right now:

The glockenspiel player is already here, as is the director, but now the other players are starting to arrive.  I don't know any of them by looking at them but I know names and the instruments attached to them since I've been staring at a checklist of the instruments I need for the past six months, but here they are.  They're actually here - to play my music!  Oh!  That's the oboist...  I've heard good things about her.  Should I introduce myself?  Probably.  I'm not sure how though.  There's one of the violinists... 

"You must be Evan."  She puts out her hand to shake mine.

"That I am."

"I'm Jan."

"Jan!  It's great to meet you finally."

There's another violinist...  Oh - and that must be the violist.  And that's definitely the cello (that's hard to miss).  Both of the flutes are here...  That's everyone, except...  Wait...  Where's the horn player?  Ah - arriving none too soon.

The strings are starting to warm up.  It's such a classic sound, hearing them strike each string in perfect fourths (well, after they've tuned their instruments).  I play a tuning note for them to match.  This is really happening.  Finally.  The other instruments begin tuning and warming up as well.  It's a cold evening so their pieces are cold and not keeping in tune as they normally would, but I don't really care.  It's no different than seeing past the disgusting process of bringing a child into the world and seeing your newborn child before you (or so I'm told)...  I only see the good part of the moment that is unfolding in front of me.

We're ready to begin.  The director announces the piece and tells everyone that it was arranged by the gentleman sitting behind the piano while pointing in my direction.  I just smile and nod my head in recognition.  While this is a huge moment for me I feel like I don't want to overplay my hand or make it seem to these musicians that this is really the first time that I've done this; that in fact, they are guinea pigs.

The director takes a few moments to point out some key queues for the musicians.  He tells the glockenspiel that his entrance is right after the horn does this (singing the part) at measure 39.  He tells the flutes about their first entrance and the solo part's entrance.  After he's completed explaining the piece to the musicians, the director raises his hands as we are about to begin...  Some of us do, anyway.  I'm a little behind because I'm still enjoying the fact that the director has spent enough time with MY piece that he knows it as well as I do.  There's a huge sense of pride in this because I respect this director for what he does and what he's done.  I personally asked him to direct this piece and he accepted.  Ack - we're starting!

One musician starts on the first beat, one starts on the second...  Train wreck.  We get a few measures in and the director stops us, makes a few points and we start again.  The intro is, yet again, not working.  He decides to take us beyond the intro and begin from there saying we'll go back and work on the intro later.  I'm okay with that - I just want to hear this piece with live instruments and not the electronically emulated instruments I've heard for about a year now.

We play through the entire piece, but it's still rough.  I'm having trouble following the director as it's not something I'm used to doing anyway, the musicians are having trouble staying together and everything just seemed imbalanced.  Some of the listeners came to lift the lid on my piano, saying they couldn't really hear me at all.  This surprised me as normally I have a tendency to play too loudly, but okay, I'll try and project better.

The director makes a few comments to adjust the piece and correct the musicians and before I know it, we're ready for round two.  As we're playing through the piece I'm trying to balance playing the piece perfectly with watching the director and (and this is the biggest one) trying to listen to the entire composition just for my own satisfaction as a listener.  There are so many things I can't hear.  I can't hear the strings' pizzicato, I can't hear the cello's pickup note.  Oh well, that's why there's a director and this should be recorded anyway.  When we finished, there was applause from the small group of listeners (mostly other musicians and choir members involved in the following piece - in other words, potentially good people to retrieve critiques from).  I had a huge grin on my face (the entire night, but now I noticed it) and was ready for another run-through.  I could do this again and again and again and...

We're done for now?

Oh.

Darn.

Wow.  This really just happened.

I had more work to do that evening so I just had to move on, but I was in a type of shock, I suppose, as it hadn't really sunken in.  I don't think it has gotten to me even yet, but the performance is still yet to come tomorrow.

After we left the church I had the opportunity to talk to another man that I greatly respect musically (among other things).  He lit the spark under me that is now my next goal.  This is normal for me:  I achieve one goal and immediately know what the next is.  I'm sure you'll hear about the next goal soon enough.

That evening, I retired back to my mom's home.  The entire ride home (ignoring the entire six-month setup for the purpose of this writing) she and her husband had endured my excessive and excited rambling about how awesome the experience had been.  This continued even after arriving home, but I was handed a glass of Scotch on the rocks by my step father as a huge congratulations.  He then shared with me what the evening had meant to him.  I had never really considered what effect this would have on others close to me, so thank you, Stan.  Your experience and that fact that you shared it with me means so much.

I am truly looking forward to Sunday's performance of "Amazing Grace."  I plan to post about it here as well as try to include a video of the event for those who couldn't be here for it.

Until next time, keep reaching for your dreams,

Evan