Composition Matters

I am getting quite excited about the possibility of real player input into programming of new music. I guess this issue must mean a lot to my job happiness, and I never before realized how much. As each new strategy is offered, I immediately wonder how it could be made to work with my own band.

David Robertson exerts tremendous control over all repertoire decisions in St. Louis. In addition to his own subscription concerts, I believe he maintains almost total control over guest conductor programs (someone correct me), he even sets the educational concert repertoire, and of course, his favorite babies are two concert series in local venues (a contemporary art museum and a university’s new recital hall) that feature nothing but contemporary music. These are mostly a continuation of his role in Lyon with small conducted new music ensembles.

In St. Louis, the events are put on through the SLSO, but outside the normal weekly service count. There is considerable buzz created, and a number of musicians love playing them, despite the extremely hard and challenging work on top of a heavy orchestra week. (I consider the triple and quadruple service days as too dangerous for a 54 year old viola player, and so have declined to participate. This would probably change instantly if one of my works were to magically and miraculously appear on a program.)

There is an outlet, Symphony-sponsored, in which SLSO musicians have not only repertoire input, but often total control of programming. This is in the Community Partnership Program of the SLSO, in which smaller ensembles are sent out to play in various places with no admission charge (the musicians are compensated with vacation credit). I consider myself very skilled at programming. If there is even a single boring minute in one of my programs, I want to know about it. My friends and I jump into these concerts with glee, and invariably the audience response is terrific. Yet often there is not a single person from our overworked staff / administration to witness these wonderful events, so the net result in terms of programming input or influence with the Symphony’s artistic administration is zero.

But I am thinking there is an opportunity here, and I wonder how to run with it! Thanks for bearing with such a personal digression.

About the author

Christian Woehr III
Christian Woehr III

Christian Woehr was born in Dallas, Texas, in 1951 into a large and unwieldy family of musicians. Five days into life, he split for Pittsburgh, where his dad had a new gig playing horn with the Pittsburgh Symphony. At the age of 7 his cellist mother asked him if he wanted to play the viola. Eager to please, he said “Sure! What is it?”, thus setting the pattern for a lifetime of clueless commitments. Within a year or two, already struck with the pathetic nature of the viola repertoire, he was attempting to write his own music. Possibly his first completed work, a Gavotte for solo viola, received actual monetary payments of 25 cents per copy from his teacher Albert Hirtz, a Pittsburgh Symphony musician who understood the motivational force of cash. The $1.50 earned from this project remained Christian’s largest compositional fee for the next 20 years.

Surviving the excruciating self-taught compositional efforts of Christian’s childhood, his family string ensemble (a full string sextet with additional horns) was quite happy to see him off to college. After the Eastman School of Music, where his principal teachers were Francis Tursi in viola and Warren Benson in composition, Christian came face to face with career/cash realities, and put away the pencil and paper for a while to learn the viola parts to Don Juan and the Mendellsohn Scherzo (for orchestra auditions). After a miserable year in the Columbus Symphony, he returned to Rochester, his marriage over and his bow arm still stinking.

Attacking the latter through the teaching skills of Heidi Castleman, he eventually landed the Principal Viola job in the Rochester Philharmonic. Forced to play slightly above his physical talent level, Woehr again learned that his true love lay in composing. He began writing works for viola and multiple violas, and more importantly, organizing concerts with the combined viola resources of the Eastman School and the Rochester Philharmonic. In 1984, ERVE (the Eastman Rochester Viola Ensemble) made its triumphant way to the World Viola Congress in Boston, playing all-Woehr. The crowd adulation (unrealistic though it may have been from an audience of several hundred violists) sealed Christian’s compositional fate.

In 1986, during a downsizing period of the Rochester Philharmonic (no more chips and beer on runout buses, plus the abandonment of Carnegie Hall concerts) Woehr got a call from St. Louis. He went, and won the audition for Assistant Principal Viola of the Saint Louis Symphony Orchestra, a job which has left him with somewhat more time and energy for composing (all part of his long-range plan). No doubt due to life-lessons learned, Woehr continues to hesitate to give up his orchestral day job for composing. But his opus grows in quantity, scope, and quality, with performances by orchestras, chamber music festivals, and colleagues who commission him for his uniquely fun style of writing. He isn’t getting rich off composing, but the few bucks he gets from ASCAP every 3 months does keep up the faith.

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