But if you consider the hero myth as an overall aesthetic goal–the heroic journey–you begin to hear it all over Beethoven’s music. In fact, it is so dominant that Scott Burnham wrote a book about it called Beethoven Hero (1995).

I’ve just completed a new piano solo called Dantes Variations in which I start with a heroic theme and submit it to many variations. Quite late in my composition process I came across this image from Wikipedia, and I thought I would share it here. Consider all the fantastic ways you can take your music if you think of some of these ideas: “call to adventure,” “threshold (beginning of adventure),” “helper,” “death and rebirth,” transformation,” “atonement,” “gift of the goddess.”

It sounds like a recipe for a great piece of music! And inspiring: what would be meant by the “helper” in a musical composition? Perhaps a secondary theme, but also perhaps simply an insistent pitch, or even a rhythm.

But I also wonder about how things can be changed up. For instance, what if some of these ideas were taken out of sequence? What if “gift of the goddess” comes first and then “death” with no rebirth?

One last consideration: There are so many variations of heroes. The tragic hero, the anti-hero, the super hero: Can any of these be expressed in a distinct musical way?

The post Using literature’s hero myth as a blueprint for music appeared first on Richard D. Russell.

The truth is no stock goes straight up in a straight arrow. Wall Street types think it is healthy to “consolidate gains” and to discard the “weak hands.”

I was thinking about this in the context of 20th century music history. There was always so much concern for progress and advancement. No time was every taken for “consolidating” ideas and forming the basis of a new direction in the discipline. As a result, ideas were instead generated and discarded very rapidly. Atonal music, serialism, and minimalism have all lasted a historical blip in time. Contrast this with the slow process of change from Bach to Haydn to Mozart to Beethoven to Wagner. What once took hundreds of years now takes a decade, if that.

Is today’s music more accessible? More tonal? Are we in a state of consolidating gains?

The post What the stock market says about creative evolution appeared first on Richard D. Russell.

Andrew Bird

Ultimately, I think that writing about music is a deliberate act and has nothing to do with creating music. The latter is mostly an involuntary response to being alive.

He also writes:

I think we’ve all got a well that can be tapped and there follows the sort of sequencing or curating of one’s own ideas.

There’s some truth to this. I mull it over when I write about music. I deliberate over each word.

I do this when I write music, too, but my first instinct when composing is to just get it out. You should curate your ideas and collect them. It’s better not to edit yourself as as you go along. (As opposed to writing words, where I do edit as I go along.) The idea when writing music is to let the inspiration carry you, involuntarily, to where you need to go! Besides, you can always edit later, after all!

You can read Andrew Bird’s comments, along with several other songwriters, at this New York Times blog for songwirters.

The post Creating music | Writing about music appeared first on Richard D. Russell.

Terpsichore, the muse of music

Recently I posted about courting the performers who can help you have a successful career. This prompted one of my staunchest supports — a muse, you might even say — to remind me that it is important to court your supporters, as well.

It’s no accident that muse and music have the same root.¬†Composers need a muse to play things for and with whom to discuss important ideas.¬†Teachers, mentors, and colleagues will talk theory. ¬†Composers need someone to speak feeling, as well.¬†Composers needs someone who speaks their emotional language.

Your muses need some acknowledgment now and then — so don’t forget to thank your muse!

The post Thank your muse! appeared first on Richard D. Russell.

Lee Hoiby

“For me, composing music bears some likeness to archeology. It requires patient digging, searching for the treasure; the ability to distinguish between a treasure and the rock next to it and recognizing when you’re digging in the wrong place. The archeologist takes a soft brush and brushes away a half-teaspoon at a time. Musically, that would be a few notes, or a chord. Sometimes the brushing reveals an especially lovely thing, buried there for so long.”

I wonder, though. Isn’t that being a little too careful? I understand his point of view, but it’s okay to be messy when you are being creative. In the end, I think the composer does have to reign in his messiness and give shape and form to his ideas.

It reminds me a little of sculpture. With marble, you chip away until the form is revealed. With clay, you add and shape until the piece is finished.

Which kind of composer are you?

The post Lee Hoiby Quote appeared first on Richard D. Russell.

You see this in cooking all the time. Take two ingredients and mix them together to create a new dish.

What about in music? Take opera. Take rock. Add them together you’ve got rock opera.

Another example: Star Spangled Banner + electric guitar = Jimi Hendrix’s legendary Woodstock performance.

How about: string quartet + punk stylings = Kronos Quartet, although you have to go back about 20 years, first.

Use this quick little formula to help spur your creative ideas in new directions. Put two instruments together that you don’t usually find together. Find new ways to market yourself.

And add a comment here if you’ve got an example we should all know about!

The post 1 + 1 = ? appeared first on Richard D. Russell.