“Somniballare” by Gabriella Smith
November 19, 2008 by admin
Filed under ScoreXchange Workshops
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Name: Gabriella Smith
Age: 17
From: Berkeley, CA
ScoreXchange workshop piece: Somniballare
“Somniballare” Part 1
“Somniballare” Part 2
Program Notes about “Somniballare”:
I lay in bed one January night with my eyes closed listening to the night noises. Suddenly, a piece of music began to take shape in my mind. At first, it was quiet, calm, ad somewhat eerie, like the suburban noises, but then it began to change. I had mental image of my half-sleep standing out in the moonlight doing some kind of wild, grotesque dance. The music became crazy and jaggedly accented. I leaped out of bed, turned out the light, grabbed the manuscript paper from my desk, and began writing Somniballare.
Comments from ADORNO members:
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Gabriella Smith – Somniballare
Well, this is an interesting piece to address. I will say up front that there is much to criticize, but only in the most positive ways, because most of us would like to look back and see that we were writing at this level at age 17. Few people do. So you keep going, girl! But be prepared to take on all the well-meant criticism that this piece will engender, take it to heart, and into your next works.
Most of the problems that I have with the piece have been clearly articulated and addressed in the performers’ comments. The big problem is balance; the cello is lost most of the time. However, what wasn’t thoroughly addressed were some practical solutions, because, after all, it is only a problem. Except for some weird math and certain political situations, almost every problem, in my experience, has a solution. In this case, we will get to some possible solutions momentarily. First I would like to make some specific, positive remarks.
I really like the use of chimes here. This is very effective. Chimes are usually used sparely, for an evocative effect, like we can imagine church bells ringing, or near the end of a piece, to make something suddenly sparkle. Or conversely, some composer thinks the chimes are under-used, so they write for four mallets and all kinds of “licks” that sound awkward. Here you have used them almost obsessively in the beginning, playing simple but engaging material, and it becomes a very strong bonding agent for the whole character of Part One, that brings us back at the end. Very nice.
The timpani writing, on the other hand, is totally out of control. You just can’t do that! Even with mutes and wooden mallets, as you can hear, the sound of those big drums just fills in all the available air space, and no more planes can fly, at least not at that low altitude. I suggest severely editing the timpani part, and I mean A LOT. Well-placed accents, some of the flashy sixteenth note licks emerge here and there, a pedal tone reiterated with some interesting rhythmic syncopation, but not flat-out jamming the whole time. It just doesn’t work.
My first guess, after only a short listen, was that this composer must be a pianist. It’s always nice when you CAN’T tell what a composer’s first instrument is. Try to get beyond writing like a pianist. That’s hard. But if you can get past how much you like the piano part in this piece, and prune it way back, you can almost instantly get closer to the solution to some of the balance problems. For example, find a trouble spot, then just lose the right hand part altogether. Or the left hand, if you insist on so much timpani happening down there. Bring the cello up an octave. Suddenly, the same basic materials, i.e. your harmonic structures, your melodies, and the interaction of the parts, will be a lot more apparent and more clearly defined for the listener. Moving something by an octave or two is often the solution to a problem of clarity, especially with counterpoint.
I concur with Loren that the bells and xylophone work very well. The writing is idiomatic, and those moments are very refreshing. But think about why that is. Those instruments suddenly take us into the under-used high register, and we can hear those lines sing out. Why not use the piano that way some of the time? Lose those damn bass strings already!
I will say that Keisuke did a respectable job of playing the tom-tom, but using non-percussionists to play percussion is a practice that a lot of composers seem to not be able to resist – but you must try to resist! I have seldom seen it come off very well in performance. I suggest only using singers, violinists, pianists, etc. to play percussion parts if it is for specific dramatic reasons, and not because you want another drum and the percussionist is already busy.
So now we have addressed some of the balance issues with the cello, and some possible solutions that exist within the composition itself, the instrumental writing as to density of notes per beat, registral placement, and so on. I must say that Mike’s suggestion as to maybe amplifying the cello I would not find to be very satisfactory. The balance issues within a piece such as this, i.e., one for acoustic instrumental resources, HAVE to be addressed and solved by the composer, within the material itself, NOT by recourse to technological “band-aids”.
If you look at the scores to some of Frank Zappa’s orchestral works, the orchestration can look really weird, actually implausible. You’ll never hear those bass flutes, or that harp part will be completely lost. But Frank was composing, always, with recording in mind, and close-miked all the instruments. Move some faders, and voila! there’s your bass flute. But this is pure acoustic music. In my experience, pure acoustic music can sound very interesting when everything is amplified. When I was playing with the California E.A.R. Unit we often amplified everything, as a matter of course. That was our live sound. But my experience has also shown me that a single instrument amplified to correct balance, because the composer made poor decisions, seldom if ever works. It just sounds odd. So I would disregard Mike’s suggestion (sorry Mike, don’t hate me because I’m beautiful).
Loren commented about the logistics of the percussion part, and I would suggest that one solution to that is to employ two percussionists. Obviously, if you are writing for a specific ensemble that has one percussionist, you have to limit yourself to that reality, and compose appropriately. But if you’re just “composing”, or perhaps have a performance opportunity in which musicians are being hired as needed, such as at a university festival, allowing two players to split up the part can make everyone’s life a lot easier. Some composers resist that type of solution, and some players even more so. That’s too bad, because it is often a practical and honorable one. Especially when considering how much equipment a player has to wrangle together just to learn the part. Do you think many players have that much stuff just set up already in their house?
Cynthia suggested that maybe you were really thinking orchestrally, but I don’t feel that way. It’s pretty clear to me that you wanted THIS ensemble, and I don’t think I would be interested in hearing this blown out to orchestral dimensions. Okay, that’s in part because I hate the orchestra. There, I said it, and I’ll say it again – I hate the orchestra. But even if I thought it was a viable 21st Century medium, I still think you have written chamber music here. Just chamber music with some tricky problems to solve, almost all of them solvable, with a little ingenuity, maybe a bit of compromise, and some creative editing.
It’s a strong piece. Now make it better.