It's time for an update, and by update I mean talking about some upcoming performances! This post will focus on an older work which will be getting a fair amount of playtime over the next several months, an orchestral piece called Tracks.

First, some background on the work. Tracks was written during my first semester of graduate work at Central Michigan University. My composition professor, David Gillingham, brought to my attention a contest being held by the Duluth-Superior Symphony for young composers. The task was to write a 6-minute orchestral overture to be performed by the group the following spring. He thought it would be a great challenge for me to try and get a large-scale work done in a few months (this was September, the contest's due date was in December). My still-naïve-new-grad-student mind thought "sure, this'll be a piece of cake," which within a week turned into "oh dear, what have I gotten into?" I had done a wind ensemble piece the year before, but the standard orchestral instrumentation and limited timeframe were something I had not encountered yet!

Thankfully, I got over my anxieties and got the piece finished just in time for the due date. It later went on to win first prize in the contest and was given its world premiere in Duluth in March of 2014. I also entered it into a contest by the Holland Symphony the following year, which was seeking appropriate piece that a youth orchestra could perform. I guess Tracks fit that bill too, since it also won first place! That specific performance is slotted for April 29th of 2017. The specific performance information can be viewed here (and you can even buy tickets for it already!). In the meantime, Tracks will be getting its Kansas debut next month by the Kansas State University Symphony Orchestra (which I was a part of all four years of my time there as an undergrad), led by Dr. David Littrell. That performance is free and specific info can be found here (concert starts at 7:30 PM).

I figured it wouldn't hurt to go into the guts of the piece a little in this post, but before doing so I recommend you listen to the piece first. I've put a MIDI rendering below (live performance advocates: my apologies, but I unfortunately didn't get a recording of the piece when it was premiered. That will change come September!)

I've gotten several requests from people to explain a bit more about the Crystal Ballet (working title) I've been working on, and for good reason. Art by its nature can be very abstract (i.e strange) and the subject matter of this project is no exception. I'll try and explain the idea behind the ballet, our collaboration, and what my collaborators and I are hoping to achieve with it.   

The project got its start in the spring of 2013, when my friend Laura Donnelly, a dance instructor at Kansas State University, met Amit Chakrabarti, a physics professor and chair of the physics department at KSU. Amit mentioned that he had an idea for a ballet based on the physics of a solid crystal structure melting, then resolidifying into a glass. Laura was quite intrigued by the concept and decided to make it a reality. Shortly after, I was asked to provide the musical material. Before making the ballet, however, Laura and I needed a little bit of a physics lesson from Amit to grasp the science behind crystals.

Amit drew several pictures as he talked to make the concepts easy to understand. I haven't taken physics since high school, so this helped GREATLY in getting an idea of what a crystal is! Essentially, a crystal has its atoms arranged in a tightly packed, grid-like structure. When enough heat is applied to this grid, the atoms begin to move and eventually break out of the grid, traveling in random directions. If the heat is then turned down slowly, he atoms eventually return to their normal grid structure. However, if the atoms are quickly cooled they instead come together in tiny, random clumps, forming a glass.

After this bit of learning came the hard part: figuring out what we wanted to SAY with this ballet. One of the first guidelines we agreed upon was the work wasn't to literally depict physics through music and dance as a sort of teaching aid. This is what's known as arts integration, and while it has become a great educational tool in recent years we felt the project wasn't a good fit for that approach. Instead, we decided to have the physics guide and inspire the music and dance as a unifying theme. We feel that both the arts and sciences can benefit with each informing the other this way. In addition, we wanted to show the world the level collaboration that we wanted to do; each of our creative input to this work would inform the others' and change the overall outcome of the project. Above all else, we wanted to inspire others to undertake their own collaborations and see what they might discover.        

Then our talk got down to brass tacks. How long would the ballet be? Who would perform the music? When would it be performed? How would we get it funded? Also, how do you advertise something like this? Could we distribute it somehow? 
 
After a bit of brainstorming, we settled on a three-movement form for the ballet, corresponding to a crystal's solid, melted, and glass forms. Each movement would transition seamlessly from one to the next, as we thought this would reflect the gradual morphing of one form to the next. The ballet itself would be around 12-14 minutes; any longer and the dancers would begin to have fatigue issues (dancing takes a LOT of energy). As for the music performers, I decided I would write for a solo percussionist (myself) playing both acoustic and electronic instruments along with an audio track. The "when" question was answered by having a series of performances. The first movement would be premiered one semester, the first and second the next, and the entire work the third. This made it much easier for Laura, as she could choreograph and teach her dancers one movement at a time (pun intended), and not have the monster task of setting an entire work in one semester. Plus, it gave our collaboration more visibility with the added performances (which means more opportunities for me to play percussion, always a plus!). 

Funding this project has involved a variety of sources which have evolved over time. Each of the ballet's performances are a part of either SpringDance or WinterDance, which are biannual recitals KSU's dance department puts on. This means thankfully we didn't have to spend much money on advertisements or performance spaces, which can add up quickly. I also received a Graduate Creative Endeavors Grant from Central Michigan University this spring to offset much of the travel costs getting to the performances, of which I am very thankful for as well (plane tickets aren't cheap, people). Finally, we've also applied for a New Music USA grant to offset costs with equipment, performers, and other production costs. We'll find out tomorrow whether that has been rewarded and I'll be sure to post an update.

Next week I'll  discuss how I wrote the first movement of the ballet, which premiered this March at KSU's SpringDance. Of course, it would would be silly of me not to give you something to listen to, so here's a recording of said premiere!

    There's a lot of things I enjoy about this song, especially the main message of love (and one of the best piano hooks I've heard since Count Basie [and Coldplay]). However, I also love the way the lyrics describe various other ways to measure a year. I've certainly experienced daylights and sunsets, as well as PLENTY of midnights. The "cups of coffee" line certainly applies to me as a musician, and that number has become uncountable in recent months (there are a LOT more papers to write in a Masters degree than I thought). I've traveled several inchesthis year on foot to get to my grad classes at Central Michigan University as well as on random walks to think over stuff on my mind. My car has had many miles added to its odometer, mostly on trips to and from Kansas (although it did get to experience Kentucky last October when I went to an SCI conference). And of course I've had a great many moments of laughter and strife, thankfully much more of the former than the latter. However, I really don't think any of these measurements work too well to measure my life this year.

    So what's another way to measure 525,600 minutes? As a composer, I could do it by the number of works I've gotten done over that period of time. It has been a very active year for me in that regard, as I pushed myself to simply write more than I ever have before. My list of works now includes several instrumental duets, a brass/percussion fanfare, two orchestral transcriptions, an original orchestral piece, multiple dance music pieces, and even a work for choir and percussion (because I have to satisfy my percussion writing craving SOMEHOW). While I am very happy to have written that much, I think there's a lot more to my life than just the notes I've put on paper, so what else is there?

    I could measure the last 31,536,000 seconds in terms of what I've done performance-wise and in grad school. I haven't been extremely active in performing as I used to (see the above paragraph to understand why), but I did get to take part in some awesome opportunities. I joined the Balkan-Klezmer-Gypsy band Kavazabava and formed a duo with my friend Frank Nawrot dedicated to new music. At CMU I also played in the New Music Ensemble and in the pit for their production of 42nd Street, both of which were an absolute blast!  Academically, I wrote a literature review (i.e. a report of current research) of the uses and effectiveness of color in music notation and managed to get it presented at a state music conference and at CMU. This may also lead to further research, as apparently there's still more to uncover in that area (although when I'll have time to do said research is another story). Still, these don't appear to be a very good way to express things either.

    So what is there? How can I measure these 8,760 hours? The song from Rent says to "measure in love," which I have certainly expressed, but love is by design unmeasurable (thank goodness!). I think a better way would be to "celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends." I've gained so many friends this past year, be they schoolmates, musicians, dancers, composers, choreographers, apartment dwellers, or brothers and sisters in Christ. There's a ton of overlap in those categories of friends I just mentioned, which is even more incredible and awesome. Through my experiences with my friends I've grown so much as a human being and I can't thank them enough for this. I can only hope that next year brings me even more of them!