This reflection began a few years ago when I felt the urge to write music. It wasn't motivated by any particular goal of success, just by the need to build something from start to finish. It was also an opportunity, after playing other people's music for so long, to do something completely original. It was also at this point that I realised the gap that exists between the work of a performer and that of a composer.
In fact, although interdependent, these two activities are also quite different. Although I agree with Leonard Bernstein's quote, I soon realised that my years of piano practice weren't going to change the fact that I had to start learning from scratch.
By studying the history of music, I've also come to realise that the distinction between composer and performer is a rather recent one. This is probably due to the fact that works are becoming more and more complex, requiring a great deal of time to be spent both writing them and practising them on the instrument.
That's why I decided to start with something rather simple: Writing in the style of -
Being a rather tidy and methodical person, I initially turned to what I felt was both simple to tackle and could become very complex later on. Baroque keyboard music and the 4-voice choir. I think that starting by studying these two musical fields is a good way of developing a fluid and varied language.
My approach to composition has always been to alternate the research phase with the writing phase, so that I can put things into practice as quickly as possible. I also try to base my work on a reference score in order to produce a more coherent work.
Here are some of the books I've used to get started. Although rooted in an ancient aesthetic, I find these works very interesting because they have helped me to understand the real reason why a composer writes one note rather than another. Being able to see more recent aesthetics has also made me aware of the need for certain composers to break away from certain rules written in these manuals. In addition to the various strict rules, here are the main ideas developed in these books :
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The most natural melodies are often written in joint movement.
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Each of the 7 basic intervals has a consonant or dissonant nature.
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Above and beyond any rules, what we write must be musical at all costs.
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Originality takes precedence over bland writing that respects the rules
Each time I came across these different ideas, I was immediately able to find them within a work that I had already played.
And I realised that this made it much easier for me to distinguish what was rule breaking and what was academic writing within a score. You then have the choice as a performer to highlight what you want.
On a different note, I also tried to write a piece based on Bach's first keyboard invention. Here, I was trying to satisfy several conditions :
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Write the same number of bars.
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That the main subject contains different rhythmic values.
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Modulate and return to the main tonality
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Make the lines as natural and melodic as possible
Writing and understanding this architecture made me realise that in this kind of piece, the essential element is the direction of the different lines. It therefore seems essential to me that these movements should be emphasised above all else. Either through the use of dynamics or through a slight rubato.
Orchestral arrangement and mirror composition
Another category of music I've been very interested in recently is orchestral music. Probably because it offers a much greater diversity of timbre than music for solo piano. However, I soon came up against the fact that there are as many good instrument combinations as there are bad ones. This is probably due to the fact that writing for any instrument other than the piano requires special attention. Indeed, it becomes imperative to take into account the registers, the technical characteristics of the instrument, the articulation, and so on. That's why I began by focusing on the orchestration of piano pieces.
At the time, I was working on Frederic Chopin's Barcarolle Op.60 and I thought that trying to arrange it for orchestra would be an interesting challenge. As this score is written in the purest tradition of piano writing, it presents a number of problems when it comes to transcribing it for orchestra. However, I am convinced that there is a good solution for every situation,that's why I'm continuing to work on this project.
Starting this transcription allowed me to extend the lessons I had with my teacher on this work. Particularly when it came to finding different timbres on the piano. Thanks to this, I had in mind exactly the kind of orchestral sound I wanted to imitate on the piano.
Here are the different works to which I refer during this work :
Around the same time, I also had the idea of writing a Barcarolle that was in some ways the opposite of the one written by Chopin. Where his Barcarolle echoes the gondolas of Venice, mine would be inspired by the dead crossing the Stix.
This way of writing in mirror image of the work of reference has the advantage of being able to draw a great deal of inspiration from the work in question, while remaining original because it involves doing the opposite.
Chamber music
Finally, the last category I looked at was chamber music. Particularly in the case of a piano and wind sextet. In the first year of my Masters, I was lucky enough to be able to work on Poulenc's Sextet. The idea then came to me to try and write a short piece for this group in the style of Poulenc.
To do this, I studied the incredibly rich score of this sextet and tried to draw out some of its main ideas. The very essence of Poulenc's writing lies in the sudden and unexpected change of character. This way of writing creates great diversity within the same piece, but makes it difficult to see any unity.
If we go into more detail, here are a few notable examples of his writing style.
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Broken melody between several instruments
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Rhythmic, dissonant piano accompaniment
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Alternation between very dissonant vertical passages and very horizontal classical melodies.
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Airy chords and low-register melody
Before embarking on writing for 6 voices, I thought it would be a good idea to start by making a rough draft on the piano with only the melody and harmony in the form of chords. Of course, this shape is still a rough draft and bears very little resemblance to the final result. However, in my case, it allows me to write faster and play the score on the piano straight away :
Writing, working on and performing this piece has probably been one of the most rewarding experiences I've had in recent years. I realised that there is a long way to go between the score and the result the composer intended. And that to achieve the final result, it is necessary to explain precisely the desired direction.
I've also realised that it's dangerous to write only in a computer programme because it doesn't accurately reflect the final result. Writing and working with musicians at the same time also means that you can ask musicians for advice in real time about the most ergonomic way of writing for them.
Ornaments and improvisation
Before concluding, I'd like to talk about another form of composition, more akin to improvisation, which I had the chance to try out with my teacher this year : Improvising ornaments in baroque and classical music. Although widespread at the time, it is not commonplace to see interpreters venturing into this field nowadays.The main reason for this is probably a lack of interest and knowledge, given that the practice is rarely taught these days. Here are a few examples that I was able to put into practice with my teacher within a Mozart keyboard sonata.
When it comes to improvising, adding or deleting these ornaments, there are no rules as such. It's simply a question of respecting the harmonic language and aesthetics of the period and trying to use good taste. It is also essential to respect the rhythmic structure of the piece.
All this obviously serves a very specific purpose: to make the repetitions less boring. This also shows that the performer understands and “speaks” the language of the piece. And it's precisely this point that I think has made me grow as an interpreter.
I think I now have a clearer vision of this language, the musical grammar of which is not systematically indicated on the score but rather left to the performer. Especially during this period, when not everything was systematically indicated on the score and there are no recordings of the period.
Conclusion
On reflection, it seems to me that the best conclusion is also the quote I started with. I think that, in the end, composing is simply an extension of most of the advice I received during my years of piano study. However, I think that writing music allows you to really understand this advice from a different angle. Understanding a phrase by analysing it will never be the same as understanding it by trying to write something similar in turn. Far be it from me to think that you have to write in order to be a good performer, but it may be an option to consider.