All Activity

A short study for string quartet composed by the sea this morning Regards, Marc 01 - Conducteur - Etude pour quatuor à cordes n°8.pdf Etude pour quatuor à cordes n°8.mp3

(Originally written for my Substack - welcome to follow me there: https://substack.com/@markoloco95) It is not often I stumble upon music by Johann Sebastian Bach that I had not heard before - especially among his cantatas that I have grown to obsess over. Then came Zerreißet, zersprenget, zertrümmert die Gruft (BWV, 205), a lavishly scored ‘secular’ cantata with the the full might of the baroque orchestra, including three trumpets, timpani, two horns that in the opening chorus come together in such a way that resembles the festive character of his better known celebratory oratorios (his Easter and Christmas Oratorios & the Magnificat in D). My interest soon extended beyond its aesthetic appeal, however. Quite often I read the accompanying commentary to these cantatas to better understand what Bach was depicting exactly, made all the more necessary as a non-German speaker experiencing this music outside of its historical context and ~300 years later (Bach wrote BWV 205 during August 1725). Little did I know that this reading about BWV 205 would lead me down a significant rabbit hole that I now have the pleasure of sharing. The ‘profane’ cantatas Bach himself made no explicit effort to create a systematic taxonomy of his cantatas between the sacred and the secular; this was more a posthumous scholarly construction (his son, CPE Bach, was among the first to do so). Interestingly, the term ‘profane’, I learned, has traditionally been applied to his secular cantatas. A contemporaneous reading of that word may imply something that is anti-religious, blasphemous or morally corrupt - this was indeed my initial impression! Rather, ‘Profane’ comes from the Latin ‘pro fanum’, which originally designated what is ‘outside the temple’ - or outside liturgical or sacred use (Charlton, 1897). Its usage to classify his secular cantatas seems to have emerged only from 1885 - in French criticism - by one René de Récy, who states in his ‘Jean-Sébastien Bach et ses Derniers Biographes’ “une autre composition du maître, celle-là toute profane” (p 415) (another composition by the master, this one entirely profane.) The French Dictionary defines profane as “l'art profane et l'art sacré” (“secular art and sacred art”), and we have no reason to doubt that its usage in French musicological expression principally meant ‘non-liturgical’. Nonetheless, the semantics of the word remains problematic considering its historically recognized extended meaning, stated in the first edition of Dictionnaire de l’Académie française (1694): C'est une action profane & impie" (It is a profane and impious action) While it may seem that I am venturing into unnecessary abstraction, this is important context. The libretto by Picander for BWV 205 is inspired by Greek mythology. How could Bach - whose art has come to embody the pinnacle of divine Christian expression in music- also write music inspired by paganism particularly with the same quality of musical-rhetorical devices that underpin the former? History and Text of BWV 205 The cantata was commissioned by the students of Leipzig University in tribute to August Friedrich Müller, a lecturer in philosophy and law at the university. It was apparently performed outdoors near Müller’s house in the Katharinenstraße - many magnificent townhouses were built in the baroque style during the early 18th century on Katharinenstraße and regarded as the most magnificent street in Leipzig. Café Zimmermann on the Katharinenstraße where many of Bach’s secular cantatas were first performed Picander’s libretto depicts a mythological clash centred on Aeolus, the Greek ruler of the winds, and his seasonal release of autumnal storms. He takes the storm episode from Book 1 of Virgil’s Aeneid, in which Juno, wishing to prevent Aeneas from reaching Itality, travels to Aeolia and asks Aeolus to release the winds against the Trojan fleet. In the book, Virgil describes Aeolus as a sovereign ruler who keeps the winds imprisoned inside a vast cavern in Thrace, struggling against their chains and reverberating the mountain. He retains their passions and rage and without his governance, the world would be swept away (Packowski, 2007). The libretto of the opening ‘Chorus of Winds’, with English translation by Zerreißet, zersprenget, zertrümmert die Gruft, Tear up, burst apart, smash to pieces the cave Die unserm Wüten Grenze gibt! that sets limits to our rage! Durchbrechet die Luft, Break through the air Dass selber die Sonne zur Finsternis werde, so that the sun itself may turn to darkness Durchschneidet die Fluten, durchwühlet die Erde, cut through the tides, rage through the earth, Dass sich der Himmel selbst betrübt! so that even heaven is distressed. Aeolus, a Greek god of the wind On the use of classical mythology I mentioned my initial surprise at Bach - who is revered today as creating music of divine provenance, with some even going as far to claim he was inspired by God himself - also set music inspired by classical mythology; especially considering classical myths for a long time were considered 'pagan'. Early Christian writers indeed exercised hostility to their worship proclaiming pagan religion as a falsehood. But the reality is more nuanced. While the worship of the 'pagan' gods in Europe following Christianization was sacrilegious, with violence even being invoked to suppress such practices (the 'Northern Crusades' as an example), a remarkable amount of pagan culture would be preserved in art qualified through the secularization of classical culture. This was partly due to the enormous intellectual influence the classical world (e.g. writers such as Homer, Virgil, Cicero & Ovid) had exercised on Europe following Christianization. The clerics shaming the pagan cults were often inspired by the very writers whose works were imbued with the pagan spirit. Secularization of the Greco-Roman religions, one could say, became a natural resolution to that conflict: their gods no longer represented credible figures for religious worship but literary figures, allegories and rhetorical symbols. This is very important to consider when we interpret in what mind a German lutheran canton in the early 18th century would set music inspired by classical myths to music. By Bach's time, Christianity had already long appropriated ancient culture as acceptable and educated symbolic vocabulary for deployment by artists. How Bach Depicts the Winds in the Opening Chorus (Chorus of the Winds) Bach makes extensive use of contrary motion - instrumental lines moving in opposing directions - in the opening chorus. From bar 5, for example: From Bar 5 (violins & viola): 2nd violin and viola descending in thirds against the rising first violin part From bar 16: (flutes and oboes): contrary motion again emphasized, with wind parts moving in opposing directions. From bar 20: more elaborate example imitative counterpoint in the minor, dominated by contrary-motion scalar figuration: the bass, strings, oboes and flutes each play their own contribution to the counterpoint in unison. The effect is a flurry of independent and contrasting motifs, much like the motion of a violent storm. Some 'word painting' highlights The passage contains remarkable word painting, in which the ‘Zerreißet’ (English: tear up) is presented as though torn to pieces through fragmented imitation with staggered entries. Its three syllables are separated into short attacks, interrupted by rests (depicting the winds as scattered and violent) before consolidating into a cadential block. It is also interesting to see the cadence on ‘Gruft’ (denoting the prison or cavern) is set in longer, more stable notes. From Bar 29: ‘Zerreißet’ (tear up) before consolidating into a cadential block Starting with “Durchbrechet die Luft” (“break through the air”), the B section immediately provides a contrast to the earlier fragmented assaults of “Zerreißet”. Here, Bach gives way to a homorhythmic pattern as though perhaps the dispersed winds have now combined into a single current, before descending to a cadence in F minor as the sun turns to darkness. From bar 85: Durchbrechet die Luft, Dass selber die Sonne zur Finsternis werde, (Break through the air so that the sun itself may turn to darkness My final highlight From Bar 102: “Durchschneidet die Fluten, durchwühlet die Erde, Dass sich der Himmel selbst betrübt!” (cut through the tides, rage through the earth, so that even heaven is distressed.) Look at how how Bach treats "Himmel selbst betrübt" ("Heaven is distressed") , here. Bach prepares a cadence in b minor, but on "-trübt" he abruptly shifts to the dominant (f sharp minor). Notably his vocal writing suddenly shifts to a perpetual type of motion, while the continuo retains the rapid scalar motion that maintains the image of turbulent wind. The passage finally closes with an end to the B section in the key of F sharp minor. Together, this f# minor passage is evocative of a mighty storm that gives way to cadential consolidation. And contrasted with the restorative de capo (return to A section) that follows, Bach juxtaposes - almost theatrically - the cosmic consequence of the destructive power of the wind where even the heavens are plunged into distress, and with their original demand to "tear, burst and smash" the cavern containing the winds. Closing remarks From hearing this work for the first time last month, this has evidently become quite a rabbit hole. Notwithstanding Bach's sheer genius in his use of musical rhetoric to depict these classical myths, what's perhaps more interesting his that this rhetoric closely resembles that which he applied in his sacred cantatas. It demonstrates his ability - and indeed willingness and adaptability - to transfer musical-rhetorical techniques between both sacred and secular contexts. Being less familiar with his secular cantatas, for me this has added a new dimension to Bach and which deserves much more exploration. Indeed, it appears that his secular cantatas have received relatively less analytical attention from Bach scholarship, which I suspect has historically been drawn more strongly to the theological and devotional significance of his sacred works. Sources Académie française. (1694). Le dictionnaire de l’académie françoise. Paris, Vve de J.B. Coignard. Internet Archive. https://archive.org/details/bub_gb_VEw4AQAAMAAJ Charlton, L. (1879). A latin dictionary Lewis and short. Internet Archive. https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.147309/page/n1459/mode/2up For "Profanes", see Page 1459 Paczkowski, S. (2007). A Polonaise Duet for a Professor, a King and a Merchant: on Cantatas BWV 205, 205a, 216 and 216a by Johann Sebastian Bach. https://www.bachnetwork.org/ub2/paczkowski.pdf Récy, R. de. (1885). JEAN-SEBASTIEN BACH ET SES DERNIERS BIOGRAPHES. Wikisource. https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Jean-Sébastien_Bach_et_ses_derniers_biographes

Hi everyone, I’m currently in the planning and sketching phase of an art song cycle, my first song cycle yet, for baritone and piano. I’m expecting it will take me around six months to complete. The cycle explores themes of distance, obsession, and the inadequacy of symbols when attempting to reach an absent Other. I’m going to be writing in a post-impressionist vein, with a tonal system of my own devising. I’m planning to coordinate pitch collections and tonal centers with symbolic themes and emotional atmosphere, kind of reminiscent of Wagner’s leitmotifs but subtler. Do you have any advice about writing art songs/cycles? For instance, do you typically write the vocal line and accompaniment together, or do you write the vocal line first, perhaps with a bass line under? I know the harmony can’t be totally ignored at any stage of the process! Any recommendations? I’ll take anything I can learn! Here are my selected texts. I’m aware it’s a diverse group of poems/poets, with varying meters and styles, but I tried to find some organic coherence between them. I. Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths (W.B. Yeats) Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. II. When my soul touches yours (Rainier Maria Rilke) When my soul touches yours a great chord sings! How shall I tune it then to other things? O! That some spot in darkness could be found That does not vibrate whene'er your depths sound. But everything that touches you and me Welds us as played strings sound one melody. Where is the instrument whence the sounds flow? And whose the master-hand that holds the bow? O! Sweet song— III. You came down from your throne (Rabindranath Tagore) You came down from your throne and stood at my cottage door. I was singing all alone in a corner, and the melody caught your ear. You came down and stood at my cottage door. Masters are many in your hall, and songs are sung there at all hours. But the simple carol of this novice struck at your love. One plaintive little strain mingled with the great music of the world, and with a flower for a prize you came down and stopped at my cottage door. IV. Go, lovely rose (Edmund Waller) Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that’s young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee; How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair! V. Look not in my eyes (A.E. Housman) Look not in my eyes, for fear They mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me. One the long nights through must lie Spent in star-defeated sighs, But why should you as well as I Perish? gaze not in my eyes. A Grecian lad, as I hear tell, One that many loved in vain, Looked into a forest well And never looked away again. There, when the turf in springtime flowers, With downward eye and gazes sad, Stands amid the glancing showers A jonquil, not a Grecian lad. VI. The day is no more (Rabindranath Tagore) The day is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher. The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water. Ah, it calls me out into the dusk. In the lonely lane there is no passer-by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river. I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet. There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute. The water is dark, but the light of your eyes is still upon it. VII. Look now at the silver scales (Wojtyla) Look now at the silver scales in the water where the depth trembles like the retina of an eye recording an image. With the broad leaves' reflection touching your face water washes tiredness round your eyes. Still far from the spring. Tired eyes are the sign that the night's dark waters flow through words into prayer. (Consider how arid, how arid our souls.) The light from the well pulsates with tears: a gust of dreams, passers-by think, brought them down. The well sparkles with leaves that leap to your eyes. Reflected green glints round your face in the shimmering depth. How far to the spring? Multitudes tremble in you, transfixed by the light of your words as eyes by the brightness of water. You know them in weariness. You know them in light.

I listened to your piece and I admire your stamina and commitment in writing such a lengthy movement! However, I don't feel that its length is completely earned. A sonata form of 420 bars needs a really strong main idea if it's to retain the listener's attention and interest. Your folksy melody was pleasant, but if it were up to me, my first thought wouldn't have been to expand it into a large sonata-allegro form. I also noted a sort of meandering quality to your lines that came from long phrases without a clear beginning or end. I think it's typically a good idea to write for string instruments in a similar way as one might write for voices or winds. Of course, strings have unique capabilities, but both the musicians and listeners will appreciate giving them space to "breathe." Chamber music especially, regardless of the musical language, is most naturally structured like a conversation. I am also not sure that pandiatonicism is a good fit for sonata form without extra structural support. It's one of my preferred harmonic palettes, but without the "directionality" of functional tonality—or a rigorous approach to motives and pitch-class sets—it has the potential to sound a bit aimless. Since sonata form is essentially a teleological (goal-oriented) narrative, that directionality needs to be provided through other means, such as striking pitch contours, rhythmic drive, or strong motivic contrasts. As for the meter, I typically wouldn’t write a sonata form in 6/8, because of its lighter “dance” associations. But I’m sure it’s been done. So all things considered, I would advise you to pursue greater concision in your presentation of ideas and find ways to articulate the structure of your piece more clearly on multiple levels. I am curious about what your creative process was for the movement: did you begin by planning the sections at a high level, or did you work mostly from beginning to end as you went? It's all part of the process of finding your own voice. We're all in it with you! Good luck with your composing, and I'm eager to see where your creativity takes you!

Hello @TristanTheTristan! So, you’ve fixed the clipping issue, right? If so—yes, it certainly seems to be resolved, and the sound is so good! The absence of clipping really gives it a sense of polish and attention to detail. By the way, upon listening to it again, I felt that the pizzicato sound starting around the 3:10 mark could use a little adjustment. It sounds a bit unnatural to me as it is; what do you think? Perhaps one shouldn't expect perfection from playback, but I think it’s worth a quick fix when you have some spare time :) This is a great work! Best, Lithl.

Ah, I understand perfectly. It’s a ‘cultural’ issue. I strongly associate this sort of piece with the Romantic style, and back then, counterpoint was still very much the order of the day. There’s one thing I learnt a long time ago. If you introduce a change like that in this sort of context, unless it’s done repeatedly (to the point where it’s perceived as ‘normal’), the listener might interpret it as a ‘mistake’.

I wrote this piece a while ago, I'm not quite sure why I haven't posted it yet, as I believe it is my best choral work so far. This is a dark piece in the latin liturgy, and I wanted to use it to imitate some late-renaissance styles, without really adhering the the rules strictly. I aimed towards a Gesualdo like harmonic progression, and in doing so I broke ALOT of renaissance writing rules. But the texture is interesting nonetheless. Let me know what you think! Aestimatus sum cum Descendentibus in lacum. Factus sum sicut homo sine adjutorio, Inter mortuos liber. Posuerunt me in lacu inferiori, In tenebrosis et in umbra mortis. Factus sum sicut homo sine adjutorio, Inter mortuos liber. Translation: I am counted among those Who descend to the depths. I became like a man without help, Released among the dead. They have laid me in the lowest pit, In darkness and in the shadow of death. I became like a man without help, Released among the dead. Aestimatus.mp3 Aestimatus.pdf

Very nice although i do prefer the Original 1959 version too.

The Mummy OST by Jerry Goldsmith - Imhotep:

Listen to Freedom's Everlasting Hegemony for String Sextet by 신성음악 on #SoundCloud https://on.soundcloud.com/2nx6OyR8tbRUgRhsiH

Hello @Alex Weidmann, Congratulations on this fantastic-sounding orchestration of this beautiful piano piece! Even though I’m more familiar with pieces for solo piano and am just at the beginning of my “orchestration career,” I have to admit that the orchestrated version is calmer and gentler than the piano original, where the difficulty of the piece remains perceivable, even in a professional recording. Having an entire orchestra „at its disposal“ gives the chance to create seamless transitions between the various passages and moods from one instrument to another, and – as I’m now also experimenting with orchestration examples, I’m always astonished how well the different instruments blend together, even though they have such distinct timbres on their own. This is a very interesting topic. Having arpeggios in a piano piece tempts one to utilize the harp for that passages. But as Luis demonstrated in his fantastic example, this can be achieved in a more natural way for the orchestra by distributing the arpeggio among several different instruments. However, the „arpeggios“ in this Elegy are real slow (in eight notes), somewhat more in a kind of „broken chords“ which are even written out in full in the original piano score. But what to do if arpeggios in the piano piece are “faster”—that is, block chords preceded by the arpeggio symbol, played the way a harpsichordist would (i.e., with a gap of 32nd or even 64th notes between each note of the chord)? I struggled with that problem in my own orchestration example, in which I tried to achieve the arpeggiated piano texture by distributing it among pizzicato strings, sometimes percussions (vibraphone and glockenspiel), while also retaining much of the original piano notes for the harp. In a „second layer“, the voice leading was then „doubled“ by the remaining „singing“ instruments (woodwinds, brass and some violins). Concerning the usability of the key of E-flat minor for an orchestra, there have been interesting discussions in this thread (and also here in@danishali903 ‘s Nocturne No. 1 in E Flat Minor by Gabriel Fauré (Orchestrated) https://www.youngcomposers.com/t50225/nocturne-no-1-in-e-flat-minor-by-gabriel-faur%C3%A9-orchestrated/ ). The arguments that transposing the piece could make it more playable—for example, for string instruments—cannot be dismissed out of hand. However, as long as there is no actual performance, I would hesitate to transpose the piece to D minor or even E minor. Although there are no longer any physical characteristics distinguishing the various keys since the introduction of the equal-temperament system we use today, there is nevertheless a strong historical and psychological connection between certain moods and their respective keys, a connection that has been “followed” and repeated by numerous composers over the past few centuries, especially in the romantic era. One can even go back to Bach’s Welltempered Clavier where we have the wonderful E-flat minor prelude (in the first book) which is a perfect example for the mood of a „Nocturne“ or „Elegy“, whereas the pieces in E minor are much more „harsh“ and therefore bear the absolute contrasting characteristics. Wieland

I just hope you don't use triplets as a crutch. I think beginning composers often struggle with writing good melodies that don't sound like just noodling up and down in a certain scale/key and introducing triplets or other novel rhythms is a crutch that many use to try and create melodic interest and imo it doesn't really work. Nothing can substitute for a good idea of where a melody is going and having a good form/structure.

I have noticed that I love me a good set of triplets. Breaks from the steady 1-2-3-4, or 1-&-2-&-3-&-4-& rhythms that you get in the common X/4 time signatures, without deviating from the familiarity of it. Can't help myself. xD I also noticed that I tend to use add9 and 2 chords quite often, both in major and minor. with the occasional major 7th sprinkled in for good taste. I'm going to try and compare my scores, one of these days, to find out what my ear does when I'm composing, because I tend to just follow through with writing what feels right, while stopping to make educated inferences on what would be most effective moving forward, before reverting back to letting my ear lead the composition again, while the cycle repeats until the end of the score. I 'spose I have some reflection to do xD

The sixteenth Musicworks Electronic Music Composition Contest is now open. Our annual juried contest spotlights new musical talent from around the world, offering four cash prizes and opportunities to be heard and published. In 2025, we received 127 submissions from 17 countries, including Canada, the U.S. and U.K., Italy, France, Japan, and others. First prize: $500, a composer profile in Musicworks in 2027, and the composition released on the accompanying Musicworks CD. Second prize: $200 and composer coverage on musicworks.ca in 2027. Third prize: $100 and composer coverage on musicworks.ca in 2027. Marcelle Deschênes Prize in Electronic Music / prix Marcelle Deschênes pour la musique électronique: $300 and a composer profile in 2027. This prize is open to entrants who self-identify as female or non-binary. Learn about the prize HERE. *Cash prizes and entry fees are listed in Canadian dollars. REQUIREMENTS Compose and submit an experimental piece in any electronic-music genre—acousmatic, electroacoustic, glitch, soundscape, intelligent dance music (IDM), turntable art, or video music. The contest is open to entries from anywhere in the world and from artists at any stage of their careers. Pieces must be previously unpublished (i.e. not released on a commercially available recording at the time of submission). Maximum length: 10 minutes. Accepted file types: MP3 or MP4 only. Contest entry fee: $30 CAD. Unlimited additional entries are $5 CAD each. All entrants receive a one-year print subscription to Musicworks ($44–$59 value). Contest closes November 9, 2026 Prize details, eligibility, assessment criteria, rules and restrictions, and the entry portal can be found HERE. Previous Electronic Music Composition Contest First-place Winners 2025 Panayiotis Kokoras (Greece/U.S.) 2024 Rocio Cano Valino (France/Argentina) 2023 Ningxin Zhang (China/USA) 2022 Leah Reid (U.S.A) 2021 Mariana Vieira (Portugal) 2020 Rocio Cano Valino (Argentina/France) 2019 Alex Buck (Brazil / California) 2018 Manuella Blackburn (Manchester, U.K.) 2017 Erik Ingalls (Windsor, Ontario) 2016 Craig Aalders (Vancouver, British Columbia) 2015 Juan Camilo Vásquez (Bogotá, Colombia) 2014 James O’Callaghan (Montreal, Quebec) 2013 Margaret Noble (San Diego, California) 2012 Bennett Jenisch (Los Angeles, California) 2011 Ian Battenfield Headley (NYC)

Hi! I just finished fixing the trills. Could you please check again?

This track was not found. Maybe it has been removed :(

@Luis Hernández Thank you so much for listening and for the feedback! Totally get where you're coming from! While writing these, I kept trying to maintain fairly strict counterpoint, but I found that when both voices became too active, the music started losing some of the calmness I wanted from a lullaby. So in several places I made the second voice more of a harmonic support rather than an equally independent contrapuntal voice. I also found that stepwise motion was really important for the sense of calmness I was going for. So sometimes i prioritized that over strict counterpoint, which led to some of the parallels you noticed. I probably could have found a better balance between the two! And again thanks so much for listening!

If you limit yourself to one style, you might restrict yourself, and make it harder for modern audiences to enjoy your work. The modern audience today still attends orchestral concerts. But the programs that orchestras schedule are mix from classical, romantic, and 20th century composers...and some times music from other media.

I’ve listened to two of them; I’ll listen to the others later. The one in C strikes me as almost perfect. It’s harmonious and has that lullaby feel to it. I just think the two-part section from bar 23 onwards has a sequence of parallel fourths that I’m not entirely keen on. I think what you’re trying to do is complete the chord. The other one sounds less like a lullaby, but I think it suffers from something similar. At certain cadential points, there are successive fourths (doubled, at that) which don’t quite sit right with me in this sort of piece. The thing is, in something so delicate, with such pure lines and drawing on the legacy of counterpoint, all this stands out a bit.

Hi everyone! This small collection of pieces I wrote that explores the concept of the lullaby from different perspectives: -The first piece uses more active and independent voices while still preserving the gentle character of a lullaby. -The second takes a more traditional approach, focusing on simplicity and a singable melody. -The third explores a more dreamy and suspended atmosphere, aiming to capture the feeling of drifting into sleep. -The fourth takes a darker direction, attempting to evoke sadness and longing through a slow, hypnotic atmosphere. Timestamps: 00:00 Lullaby I 01:05 Lullaby II 01:55 Lullaby III 03:30 The Last Lullaby YouTube link Score Once again I would like to thank you for giving me your time and valuable feedback that keeps me going and improving everyday! I couldn't be happier that I discovered this forum! Lullaby G Major.mp3 Lullaby in F Major.mp3 Lullaby in F Minor.mp3 Lullaby C Major.mp3 Lullaby C Major.pdf Lullaby G Major.pdf Lullaby in F Major.pdf Lullaby in F Minor.pdf

𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑨𝑻 𝑩𝑨𝑹 𝑱𝑨𝒁𝒁 : Trilogy 1+3 After-Hours HAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ.mp3 HAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ.midHAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ second session.midHAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ Final Trilogy .mid HAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ by Mavell.pdfHAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ second session by Mavell.pdfHAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ Final Trilogy by Mavell.pdf HAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ second session.mp3 HAPPY HOUR AT BAR JAZZ Final Trilogy.mp3

I completely agree with this. The thing is, when you’re learning, I think it’s good to explore and delve into a wide range of styles, given that we now have the resources to do so. Of course, it’s a process that, depending on each person’s circumstances, may never end. I think the level of commitment plays a big part here. A professional composer is not in the same boat as people who compose as a hobby (and do so whenever they can). Honestly, as I’m in that second group, I don’t think I’ll ever have time in my life to define a narrow circle of influence. That doesn’t mean, however, that when I set out to write something, I do so within a framework I’ve defined beforehand.

That’s true. Although I’m not sure what implications there are in music being a form of communication. I believe that music is, if anything, a metaphorical language. But the meaning of what it might convey is highly subjective. I certainly don’t believe that innovation has to come through new sounds or things like that. The expansion of the expressive techniques of many instruments has already been fully explored. I was referring more to innovation in terms of style, defined as the set of visual, technical and formal features that characterise a work, an artist or an entire artistic movement. And it is far more difficult to create a new language. As such, I believe there have been very few: modal music centred on a single note, tonal music centred on the triad, and, shall we say, the liberation from that centre in its many expressions. But who knows.

Which also raises the question: does the very idea of "musical innovation" have real significance in a world defined a pluralism of musical styles and languages? Many narratives of musical innovation imply not only a linear and one-sided view of history, but also that technique is somehow autonomous from the composers who utilized them. But especially with the rise of AI-generated content, I think it's the human element that remains most important. I tend to think that questions of technical innovation are secondary to the fact that music is essentially a form of communication and dialogue between PERSONS. That's where its real power lies--not as the craft of constructing progressively more advanced sonic artifacts.

I personally think in developing a personal language, composers need to strike a balance between indiscriminate absorption of everything they find, and limiting themselves to an overly narrow range of influences. I know the process varies from composer to composer, but I think it's important to find that balance. It's different today, where we have more control into what feeds our composer's mind--we kind of need to carve a personal ecosystem out of today's chaotic musical world. I've found it helpful to have a diverse cluster of a few core influences as a reference point (Sibelius, Messiaen, Britten), and then kind of expanding outside that. Polystylism is a fascinating approach, though it's not one that works well for my own process. If I composed in whatever style interested me at the moment, I don't think I would find the motivation to complete any full pieces. Again, it really depends on the composer, but as for me, my music is usually an expression of a philosophical vision, or a way of life. I can't really separate the styles and systems from the musical vision that bred them.