CJ Replay: Composers and Conductors

(An excerpt from the Choral Journal article, “Podium and Pen – Choral Conductor as Composer: An Interview with Theodore Morrison” by Jerry Blackstone)

I think the relationship among composer, commissioner, and performer must be one of openness, with give-and-take in all directions. In our century, many composers thumbed their noses at the folks who gave them work (or would have) in the name of creating "advanced" music. They wrote scores that were so alienating they nearly destroyed for all time the delicate relationship between the composer and the consumer. Happily; this seems to be turning around now. I think it is the composer's responsibility to provide the commissioner and performer with music that fits their needs aesthetically, practically, and financially.

The conductor has to remember who wrote the music, and the final decision obviously belongs to the composer. But the composer also needs to be sensitive to performers. He has to realize there are limitations on performers, and when he is present for a rehearsal, he must be sensitive to those limitations and not ask for what may be too risky. If he doesn't know, he must defer to the conductor. In my collaboration with Ligeti, a potential conflict arose when he asked me to take the last tempo of Reggel much slower than we had previously rehearsed it. He requested this just before the final run-through, and I respectfully turned him down on the basis that it was simply too risky to adjust significantly a vigorous tempo to the slower side at the last minute when the choir was excited. He immediately understood and graciously deferred to my judgment. We all had a good laugh because of the delicacy of the situation. If he had insisted, however, I would have graciously acceded.

Ronald Richard Duquette says

October 17, 2013 at 5:44 am

It’s interesting – in my (admittedly) limited experience with this relationship – conductor-composer – I had something of a similar and yet entirely more frustrating relationship. Our church choir had been asked to perform an advent cantata for the national biennial conference of a large church musician’s organization to be held that year in D. C., which I was to conduct. The musical resources were an adult choir, a children’s choir, a chamber ensemble (consisting of strings, percussion, and piano), and soloists who were to present the Advent story from the perspective of everyone BUT Jesus. The composer came for the last several rehearsals – and drove our director of music (who was playing the piano for the performance) and myself wild. There is no other word for it. He insisted, without any modification or willingness to hear out any other viewpoint, that the tempi (in particular) be held strictly and without variation to those he had written in the score. Partly out of respect for his clerical status, and partly out of a realization that making too big a deal of it would probably cause even further problems (cancellation of the performance, people walking out just before the performance, yada, yada, yada), we did the best we could – though, from a performance standpoint there were modest modifications to the tempi (in particular) that I wanted to do. He never yielded – ever. However, I was sorely tempted to take him to the side, and say: “Father, you don’t have children of the body, but this is a child of your soul and spirit. Just like any parent, you train him up, teach him the right things, form him, and then one day, you launch him into the world – which must deal with him and with which he must learn to deal. We are that world. Let go.” Why did I want to do different tempi? For the most part, I wanted to pick up the pace, as with our resources it ran a serious risk at slower tempi of being more difficult to sustain the musical line, etc. It wasn’t, though, as though I wanted to take a quarter note = 80 and suddenly turn it into =120! As it turned out, we performed before 1800 of our own peers and colleagues; it was a smashing success (at the tempi which I adopted and which my dear friend the pianist/music director understood I wanted to take it at, and at which the choirs and instrumentalists and soloists understood I wanted to take it at), immediate standing ovation at the conclusion of the piece, and tears of happiness from the composer. Lesson learned: one must be willing to respectfully and professionally disagree with a composer for good reasons. But there are times….!!!!!

Comments

Ronald Richard Duquette says

October 17, 2013 at 5:44 am

It’s interesting – in my (admittedly) limited experience with this relationship – conductor-composer – I had something of a similar and yet entirely more frustrating relationship. Our church choir had been asked to perform an advent cantata for the national biennial conference of a large church musician’s organization to be held that year in D. C., which I was to conduct. The musical resources were an adult choir, a children’s choir, a chamber ensemble (consisting of strings, percussion, and piano), and soloists who were to present the Advent story from the perspective of everyone BUT Jesus. The composer came for the last several rehearsals – and drove our director of music (who was playing the piano for the performance) and myself wild. There is no other word for it. He insisted, without any modification or willingness to hear out any other viewpoint, that the tempi (in particular) be held strictly and without variation to those he had written in the score. Partly out of respect for his clerical status, and partly out of a realization that making too big a deal of it would probably cause even further problems (cancellation of the performance, people walking out just before the performance, yada, yada, yada), we did the best we could – though, from a performance standpoint there were modest modifications to the tempi (in particular) that I wanted to do. He never yielded – ever. However, I was sorely tempted to take him to the side, and say: “Father, you don’t have children of the body, but this is a child of your soul and spirit. Just like any parent, you train him up, teach him the right things, form him, and then one day, you launch him into the world – which must deal with him and with which he must learn to deal. We are that world. Let go.” Why did I want to do different tempi? For the most part, I wanted to pick up the pace, as with our resources it ran a serious risk at slower tempi of being more difficult to sustain the musical line, etc. It wasn’t, though, as though I wanted to take a quarter note = 80 and suddenly turn it into =120! As it turned out, we performed before 1800 of our own peers and colleagues; it was a smashing success (at the tempi which I adopted and which my dear friend the pianist/music director understood I wanted to take it at, and at which the choirs and instrumentalists and soloists understood I wanted to take it at), immediate standing ovation at the conclusion of the piece, and tears of happiness from the composer. Lesson learned: one must be willing to respectfully and professionally disagree with a composer for good reasons. But there are times….!!!!!

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CJ Replay: Composers and Conductors

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