I am currently listening to the third movement of Mendelssohn’s 5th Symphony, “Reformation”. I have heard some people say that Mendelssohn lost his youthful edginess and his later music just doesn’t reflect the genius of his earlier pieces like the Octet or Midsummer Night’s Dream. To them I say, Poppycock!

This is a beautiful piece, and the entire symphony is worth a listen if you haven’t heard it before.

But something that struck me just now, especially on the third movement, is that this is not that ground breaking. The harmonies are straight forward. There is nothing that would stand out as instantly a leap forward in musical thought.

But that’s okay!

Standard Harmonic Progressions

One of the things that strikes me most is the use of very standard harmonic progressions. Lots of I-V-I, I-VI-III, and I-IV6-V kind of stuff. Even with these the music feels fresh. This no doubt is due to other factors as well, such as excellent counterpoint and orchestration, but it doesn’t change the fact that someone like Mendelssohn can take something simple and still use it for a Symphony. His 5th Symphony none the less.

I had written in the past, that if Beethoven was comfortable enough to have used I-V-I as a general progression in one of the last pieces he ever wrote, then I should be comfortable with it as well. But for some reason this is a problem for me. When I sit down to compose, my inner dialogue goes something like this -

Me: Okay, here we are again.

Me: Doo, doo doo dum dum, what should I compose today?

Me: I know, let’s compose something ground breaking. Something that’s never been heard before. That will really get everyone noticing me. I can have new harmonies that I’ve never heard before, make it atonal and tonal at the same time. And to top it off, it has to be written for 10 vituousos all in the same room, or else it won’t do.

Me: Great idea Me! Let’s do it.

Me: …………. (time passes doodling)

Me: (30 minutes later) 2 bars of music, all in C major starting with an arpeggio… I guess we’ll break ground next time.

Before you call a psychiatrist for me, I will guess and say that you probably have similar experiences.

Performance Anxiety

So what’s the problem. In my mind I see two.

1. First and foremost, I am putting too much pressure on myself to “perform”. More often than not, I have found when I take away any desire to compose with a certain unattainable goal in mind I get nowhere. But when I have a very attainable goal, usually something that involves less pressure, something great get’s composed. This is no more evident than when I have composed “examples” for this site. Looking at it as a simple “academic example” I usually just rattle off a simple sentence usuing I-V-I type basic progressions, and then I am surprised when I really like it.

2. Second, I am attempting to use harmonies and styles of writing that I have not mastered. When you try and get too fancy with your composing, you end up leaving the world of what you know, for the world of learning. This is okay, but in moderation. Learning, especially through your own composing, has to be done step by step, and overtime. The reason is, you have to truly integrate new things. If you are writing using familiar techniques, and then happen on a very unusual harmony or form, you are more likely to internalize it, than if you are struggling to move from chord to chord in the first place because of some strange desire to break free from the shackles of traditional harmonic thinking.

Steal Away

Getting back to my original point, one of the best things you can do is steal from the greats. And I mean straight up steal (Not steal an entire piece, because thats plaigarism. Besides, if I were tp go in front of a group, play Beethoven’s 9th and call it Brantingham’s 1st, I think they would know). This takes much of the pressure of “originality” off of your shoulders, and puts it on the masters. Your concern is not originality, it is mastery.

Stealing is an art form in and of itself. Steal short bits from pieces that you really like, but then change things in them. You like a certain chord progression? Copy it, and use the same melody as a guide for how to write your melody. In the grand scheme, if you become a great, and scholars are dissecting your music in the future, they will look at it and say:

“Ah, clearly here, he was influenced by Jon Brantingham’s Piano Sonata No. 1…”

Stealing ideas from other composers is a means to an end. It will allow you to internalize things they know, and to make new connections among the things you know.

If you are rolling your eyes right now, I would like to enter into evidence, Exhibit A – Trio Sonata in G Major by Domenico Gallo, and Exhibit B – the Overture to Pulcinella by Stravinsky.

Exhibit A – Trio Sonata in G Major by Domenico Gallo

Exhibit B – The Overture to Pulcinella by Stravinsky

So don’t be afraid to steal once and a while. I think the world will be a better place for it.

Disclaimer: This can probably get me in a little hot water if taken out of context. I am not advocating plaigarism or actual theft of valuables, or really any theft of any kind beyond the use of ideas. Please do not actually steal, in the traditional sense of a crime. And really, don’t try to steal someones music and claim it as your own. But no one will get you if you use the chord progression from Pachabel’s Canon (psst, I am going to have a post on using this actual chord progression coming up soon). See video below.

Art of Composing

Meno Mühlig [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

How to Really Start Improving Your Composing

Since I started artofcomposing.com back in August of 2011, I have been searching for different methods, techniques, theory… in fact just about anything that can improve my composing.

You Are What You Eat

Along the way, I’ve read some great books on psychology and mastery. Influencer: The New Science of Leading Change, really taught me that the best way to work towards truly changing yourself is through the process of teaching others what you want to learn. Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, taught me that mastery comes through the hard work, and dedication to a clear goal, and that is reached by specific practice of things that will inch you closer and closer to that goal.

The Power of Habit and The Now Habit, taught me that you can replace your bad habits with good habits, and how to understand those bad habits in the first place.

Theory… in Practice

Then there are some really great music theory books, like Arnold Schoenberg’s Fundamentals of Musical Composition, and more importantly William Caplin’s Classical Form, that really drove home the logical, syntactical side of music. Aldwell and Schacter’s Harmony and Voice Leading, which is very… thorough… to say the least.

I’ve watched videos, read articles and dissertations, analyzed compositions; I’ve definately done my share of listening.

Through all this, what has been the most helpful so far?

Asking Questions

That’s right. It’s all about asking questions. In fact, you can get meaningful help out of just about anything you read or study, but it all depends on the questions you ask.

Much like a student learning to critique an essay will have to learn about what questions to ask in order to delve into the deeper structures, you too must learn to ask specific questions in order to delve deeper into music composition.

1. How does this work?

This is a basic question, and it works on many levels. It is open ended for a reason, because nothing in music really has any deeper truth beyond what is perceived in the listener. And really, when it comes to learning composition, you are the listener that matters.

Asking “how does this work?” could be about the clear cut harmony, for instance, “How does this piece modulate from the key of C to E major in 1 bar, but still sound natural and not forced?”

It could also be, “How does the music seem to maintain forward momentum without chromaticism?”

It may be more emotional, like “How does this piece make me feel hopeful?”

Or it may be related more to sound and texture. “How does this piece sound like an orchestra with only a string quartet and a flute?”

2. How Can I Do This Differently?

It is very easy to get stuck in a rut with composing. If I had a dollar for every time I sat down to compose and immediately played a C major chord at the piano, I would probably retire, and well… compose for the rest of my life.

Being deliberately different makes it much harder to fall into this rut.

For instance, I was frustrated that a lot of the openings to my compositions were coming out boring. So I asked myself, how many ways can I start the first bar. This lead to a breakthrough and a lot of very unique openings. Not all of them will be used, but none the less, it all started with thinking deliberately about how I could start a piece differently than I have.

Other ways it can manifest are things like, composing for different instruments, in different places, using different methods. In fact any part of the product or process of composing can be changed. This will lead you ultimately down the path to finding your unique process for composing, and your individual voice.

3. Am I Where I Want To Be?

This question is a little more philosphical than the others, but just like the others, operates on different levels.

It could refer to your level of knowledge, “Am I where I want to be with my understanding of counterpoint?” (For me, the answer is almost always no).

It could also be for life in general, “Am I doing what I truly want to be doing?” This may be something like a job, or school… or it may be composing the wrong kind of music because you think it’s what will earn you the most money, or it’s what you have to compose because someone told you to. General reflection on where you are, and where you want to be is eye opening, and can help push you to the next level.

Actually Asking the Questions

The final element in all of this is actually asking the questions. Most people (yours truly as well), read advice about all sorts of things, but never put it into practice. Well the good thing about this, is it entirely revolves around you. The goal of asking questions is not necessarily answers – you may get more questions in the long run. The goal is to get used to asking the right questions in the first place.

Art of Composing

The Lark Ascending

Art of Composing

If you are a regular visitor to artofcomposing.com, you may have realized I have not been posting very much recently. The main reason is, I have been doing a lot of reading. And consequently, I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking. Most of this has actually not been about music, instead being philosophical in nature, mostly related with education, society, history and politics. I haven’t composed anything in about a month or so, but I am okay with that.

This Article is Not About Politics

Do not worry at this point, I am not going to go off on a political tangent, especially with what has gone down in the last few months in America.

Instead I thought I would try to bring what I’ve learned about why I compose music; why I choose the specific styles that I do; and why both you and I should neither worry about fitting into anyone’s mold of what a composer is or isn’t, or what music you should be composing.

Anger and Disgust

About a year ago now, I wrote a piece called Anger and Disgust, which was a short piece for string quartet. I was purposely using dissonant harmonies and minimalism to attempt to portray my feelings.

After composing it I posted it online, and to my surprise, I had people tell me they thought the piece actually did not portray anger and disgust and the harmonies were actually sort of “sweet.”

While I don’t think sweet was what I would have used to describe the harmony, on reflection, I kind of see where they were coming from.

Symbols

This forum discussion sat at the back of my mind for a long time, really not going anywhere. That is until I started reading a book called The Trivium, by Sister Miriam Joseph. This is a very interesting, if not difficult book to read. It dates from 1937, and was originally written for a Catholic College. The first few chapters are about the meaning of language, and what language is.

To sister Mirium, and for the most part I agree, language is a system of Symbols, created out of convention to communicate ideas, emotions, and so on. The key to me is “created out of convention to communicate.”

When you get down to it, music doesn’t really communicate anything concrete. Sure a minor chord sounds sad most of the time… but why? Because we all grew up with it being used to “mean” sad. I’ve heard that in different cultures around the world, minor chords sound happy. Who really knows. My point is, if a minor chord sounds sad to me, and a cluster sounds like anger, who is to say otherwise, besides… me. Particularly if it is my music.

Can Music Have Real Meaning?

Yes. But that meaning does not transmit and it is definately not universal. I remember when I really started getting into Mahler’s 6th Symphony. To me, the 3rd movement really meant something. I could feel the pain of Mahler losing his child… except… Mahler had not lost his child yet. In fact, it was considered by Mahler one of the happiest times of his life. When I started listening to it though, I didn’t know all that. What did Mahler feel his 3rd movement meant? I don’t know, but ultimately that doesn’t matter. The only thing that does matter, is that it has internal meaning to me.

Conditioned by Society

What I worry about is that we have been conditioned by society to do certain things, perceive things in a certain way, and criticize things that don’t match up with our “archetypes” of good and bad. The internet itself has come a long way to help bring tone that down, but I find it interesting to see debates online about the value or meaning of music, or in fact whether specific genres of music should be pursued seriously or at all. Does anybody argue that music doesn’t has value or meaning?

The main reason why I wrote Anger and Disgust was because of the anger I was feeling about not being able to identify a genre of music that I fit into. That sounds sort of shallow, but in reality, I felt like I was floating around without any idea where I wanted to end. I especially felt like I didn’t have a teacher to look up to and guide me on the path, wherever that may lead.

But over the last month or so, I think I’ve come to the realization that I will never fit into a style or mold in my lifetime. Sure, other people looking back can always label you, but what bearing does that label have on anyone while they are alive? None whatsoever.

If I want to try and write what I deem in my mind to be a classical style piano sonata, and then immediately turn around and write a country song, there is nothing at odds in that, and they both have value and meaning.

But this also goes to anyone who is beginning and is writing music that they themselves feel is not very good. I have composed many pieces of music that are bad – in my own opinion. Do they have value? Yes. Are they going to be listened to by anyone? Probably not. But their value is in building my musical character. If my pseudo-Mahleresque piece of junk Symphony half-starts help me to make a less psuedo-Mahleresque half-way decent non-symphony in the future, then it has a lot of value… I just don’t know what that is yet.

Love One Another as You Love Yourself

So to leave you with a practical piece of advice, I would treat other composers how you would like to be treated. Most people know when their music isn’t worth listening to. I know when mine isn’t. So if someone posts something online, they may not be looking for an indepth critique of their capabilities. Maybe they just want people to know who they are and that they are composing. If you don’t like it, don’t comment on it. If you are going to comment, try to make it actually useful and not just a comment that hurts them. What matters is that we are all growing. If you like it then by all means let them know.

Telling someone, “Thanks for sharing this,” or “I really liked your piece,” will go a long way towards allowing them to teach themselves more. Telling someone, “This piece isn’t really good,” translates to, “You suck at composing, and you are clearly not as good as I am.”

This doesn’t mean that if you have a real built up relationship, and you both understand where each other is coming from, that you can’t offer critiques, but that is 9 times out of 10, not the case online.

And if you post your stuff online, be prepared for someone to say something unexpected or downright mean. Unexpected can be great sometimes, as seeing other people’s points of view can expand your awareness. But downright mean… well I would guess they just have some unmet emotional need in their own lives and don’t know how to get that need met. So don’t let it effect you.

Art of Composing

For many people, music theory is a dry, uninteresting subject that is painful to learn, and hard to put into practice. I have never been cursed with this mindset. In fact, I have always enjoyed learning about music and the theoretical aspects behind it. But I am always on the lookout for other ways of thinking, and sometimes I come across gems on music theory that I like to share. This article is about one such gem that I found. It is effectively a course on basic music theory, but takes an approach which I found to be refreshing and pretty logical. It is a course from The Teaching Company, called Understanding the Fundamentals of Music by Professor Robert Greenberg.

Theory Without Books

The main benefit of this course is that Dr. Greenberg assumes that you will not be reading music. In fact, he assumes that you can’t read music. This means the course is all about the music, and not about the music notation, or analysis. While I don’t think this is completely sufficient for a composer, I do believe that if you are relatively new to composing and music theory, this is probably the best way to get acquainted with the concepts of music theory. It gives you a grounding in reality first, from which you can pursue deeper knowledge of theory.

What Understanding the Fundamentals of Music Covers

Music theory, even basic music theory, is still a vast subject. Dr. Greenberg decides to approach it from the ground up, not starting at theoretical issues like notes, or chords, or form. Instead he starts with timbre. But he does it in a very entertaining way. He pretty much covers all of the main instruments of the orchestra, and gives you interesting tidbits about their history or where they’ve been used. I found the section on timpani pretty funny.

From there he moves on to beats, tempo and meter, giving a once over the world of the two defining features of music – time. The other defining feature really being sound.

Following that, he moves on to pitch, modes, intervals and the different tuning systems.

What Every High School Student Should Know

As I said a little earlier, I was a music theory nerd most of my life. My love affair with theory really started in high school though, when I began composing on my own on a regular basis. But most of my theory was self-taught. I would look for things that I heard repeatedly in the music, and try to figure out what was going on. In particular, I remember “discovering” the diminished chord. This was that strange, dastardly sound that I always heard in cartoons when they tied the kidnapped woman to the train tracks to be swooped up at the last minute.

After going through this, I wish I would have had a course just like this one. It is thorough, but not to the point of boredom. And it covers concepts that were pretty much alien to me at that time.

The most important thing it brings up, and something that is near and dear to my heart is functional harmony. The concepts in this section rival some text books in the way it is described, but the entertainment factor is far higher. And the cost for this is pretty reasonable compared to some music theory books. I would even wager that this rivals many community college courses on music theory, especially since you can re-listen to them.

Go Forth and Learn Basic Music Theory

I realize this is not for everyone, but if you are relatively new to music, theory, composing, or you just want to have an entertaining brush up on your basic music theory, then once again, I highly recommend Understanding the Fundamentals of Music by Professor Robert Greenberg.

P.S. I had the digital audio version, and not the DVDs. I don’t know if they offer anything in particular over the audio, but if you have any experience with them, let me know.

Art of Composing

Composing and Writing

I see composing and writing a novel as somewhat of a parallel type of activity. Both involve a lot of craft, both take many years to “master,” both involve a person seemingly creating new ideas out of “nothing.” The experienced composer, and I suspect the experienced author will probably say, “In fact, you are not creating something from nothing. Everything you’ve ever read, heard, studied, or created in the past all goes into what you are creating now, in some way or another.”

With that being said, one of the things I found most interesting about the writing world are the “systems” that are around to help writers create novels, or develop their ideas. There are exercises for creativity, for clearing your head, for brainstorming… for just about everything they do. The composing world on the other hand seems to view composition as a mysterious dark-ages type thing, in which it is basically magical and unexplainable things going on in the minds of crazy people that lead to the great masterpieces.

Part of the problem I think stems from the over emphasis on theory explaining what is going on, instead of how it is done. There is just not a great many composers that have sat down and tried to write out their process for composing, so that it may be passed on to others. Some have, like Schoenberg, but most don’t. Wouldn’t it be great to have a manual on composition by Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Mahler, Stravinsky, Strauss, and Koji Kondo, all in your book shelf. I would bet they would be pretty popular if they existed.

There are some snippets here and there, but they tend to not be very helpful.

The Snowflake Method

The snowflake method was created by named Randy Ingersmanson. You can check it out here. The gist of the method is basically coming up with the big pieces of your novel first, and then fleshing those out bit by bit.

1. Write what your novel is about in one line.
2. Expand it to a full summary paragraph.
3. Write out one page summaries of all your characters.
4. Expand each sentence of your summary paragraph into a paragraph themselves.
5. Write out one page descriptions (a little different from a summary) of each of your main characters, and a half-page of subordinate characters.
6. Expand the 4-paragraph synopsis of the novel to a 4-page synopsis.
7. Expand your character descriptions to full character diagrams with connections, motives, etc.
8. Make a spreadsheet of all the scenes in the novel.
9. Write a paragraph description of each scene (optional).
10. Write your first draft.
11. From there, edit, rinse and repeat.

Now I realize that much of this is not really applicable to composers. Can you write a one line summary of your entire, say, symphony? Maybe, maybe not. If you are explicitly trying to creating a mood, or tell a story, then you could actually write a line about the symphony in words, not music. But I would say its a little far fetched to do it in one musical phrase.

But the concept I think is pretty sound, and is very similar to what I used to create my piano sonata 1st movement.

My Method for Composing a Sonata Form Composition

In my book, Composing in Sonata Form, I follow a very specific process of composing small chunks and expanding them based off of one pattern of sonata form. I don’t really want to get into a debate on what sonata form is and isn’t. Whatever it really is, it’s definitely a great tool for expanding your capabilities. With things like Main themes, transitions, subordinate themes and developments, you can quickly learn all sorts of new techniques for expanding your compositions.

As far as a parallel to the snowflake method, I follow this method:

1. Decide the key, time signature and map out generally your composition. For instance, will you have multiple subordinate themes, a introduction or a coda. In the book, as an additional way of learning, I follow a Beethoven Sonata, so we can see exactly how he developed his composition.
2. Identify any basic ideas that you will have to compose. If you don’t know what I mean by basic idea, check out my series on musical form and definitely go through the free beginner’s course.
3. Turn those basic ideas into your themes. This allows you to compose your themes in an isolated way, and not worry yet about how they connect or develop later on.
4. Compose your transition from main theme to subordinate theme.
5. Compose your development section.
6. Compose your recapitulation.

What occurred to me while following this process, was the realization that the piece started to take care of itself in a way, after I started to make real progress. By real progress, I mean that I had clear, identifiable sections that were like mini goals. As I reached a mini goal, the next piece became a little more tangible and a little less obstructive of the finish line.

And once you have a few ideas on paper, your brain starts to subconsciously mull over it, or compost it, as Randy Ingersmanson would say, and what I am going to talk about in the next article. As it gets composted, you find that more and more will flow out. Finishing at this point is no longer an issue of creativity, but time.

Completing a Large Piece of Music

The problem I have faced in the past, and will inevitable continue to face in the future, is reaching a point of frustration and not finishing. But splitting your piece into definable goals can go a long way to improving your chances of completing. If by the end, you don’t like the music, that’s okay.
It’s better to have 10 complete compositions that you think are not that great, than 1 incomplete composition that could be pretty good… if you finished it.

Art of Composing

I have spent the last year and a half, really digging into composing seriously. Over that year and a half, I have had plenty of ups and downs about my abilities and the work that I’ve put out. Sometimes, usually when I finish a piece, I feel pretty good about it. Other times, normally a little later down the road after the composition is finished, I think, “Wow, I thought this was good… there is no hope for me.”

Really there are some specific things going on here:

My Composition Craft is Improving

There is one thing that above all that is leading me to these conclusions that is actually good. The most likely reason I think I am a terrible composer is that I am actually becoming a better composer, and I can legitimately say my older compositions are worse than my newer compositions, specifically in style, technique and overall coherence. As you improve, not only will your ability to spot errors will improve (meaning voice leading, counterpoint, harmony, orchestration, etc.), but your taste will develop. That is the reason why accomplished composers generally have their opinions respected about compositions that novice composers do.

My Overall Mood is Fluctuating

I am, and I suspect you are also, not immune to having a bad day. This can lead to devastating results when it comes to judging your compositions. So if you are just having the worst week of your life, or even if you just had a crummy night sleep, I recommend three things:

1. Take a break. Everyone needs a break once in a while, even from the things you love. My wife and I try to have my son spend the night at Grandma’s house at least once a week. It’s not because we don’t love him, we do. It’s just, well… he’s three years old, and a little bit crazy sometimes. A break is good for everyone.
2. Don’t even think about analyzing or judging your or anyone else’s music. Wait until you are 100% again.
3. Go exercise. If you don’t exercise, start exercising. I have said it many times on this blog, and I will say it again, exercise is key to health and creativity.

You May Be a Terrible Composer

Seriously, you may be terrible. But that’s okay. No one came out of the womb composing a symphony. Not even Mozart (Mozart’s father was one of the greatest music teachers in Europe at the time, and probably had a hand in most of the early works of Mozart). So if you are, then you really need to focus on understanding great music first and “expressing yourself” last. Chances are, you are making simple mistakes, like not putting cadences in the right place, not following standard harmonic patterns, poor voice leading, or strange form.

Find a Mentor

The best thing you could do, is probably find a mentor. Someone with more skill and experience than you, who is willing to take the time to understand where you are within your composing journey.

Art of Composing

Art of Composing

This is an important point to make. If you are in the zone, keep going. There is no need to limit yourself arbitrarily. But if you are not in the zone, you can stop only after your 30 minutes are up.

I am also trying a new format, youtube. Let me know how you guys like it.

Enjoy!

Art of Composing

Sleigh Ride

Arranged by Jon Brantingham for Trumpet, Clarinet, Trombone and Tuba.

Sleigh Ride Full Score

Art of Composing