Composition Matters

I probably have an unusual perspective on the role of new music within the modern orchestra’s ecology, having played violin in such ensembles professionally and having served on the staff of both the American Symphony Orchestra League and the American Music Center. And as Drew outlines the parameters of this conversation, I think what startles me most is the “what’s in it for me” take on the issue, the “why should I care” attitude. Why should you care? Because as a musical artist in an orchestra, it’s your job. The sweat and talent you put into each performance of a new work is the bridge between the composer and the audience. This is not the role of the “cog in the wheel” as Drew’s source says, but of the keystone within a living musical art form.

Or at least that’s my take. When it comes to new work, I am a self-confessed addict with the manners of an evangelist. Love this, too! See, no dust! But preparing and performing a new work should be a highlight in the orchestra musician’s workweek. For it not to be indicates a serious flaw in the system.

That’s when I remember my first rehearsal in a large professional orchestra. I was subbing in the West Virginia Symphony, relegated to the back of the first violin section. The rehearsals whipped by and, faster than I thought prudent, the bright lights were up and we were performing. I felt like a factory worker in strappy shoes. Maybe after a few years’ seasoning, I would have settled into the situation, learned how to not feel alienated artistically when I was sitting ten yards away from a conductor whose acquaintance I’d made only three days earlier. But I’m not very optimistic. It was a job and I was on the clock–a big one with a union guy right underneath it. Fine for assembly line work, perhaps; not exactly ideal for creating art.

Last fall, I had the opportunity to spend some time with the composer Joan Tower at the premiere of her multi-community, small-budget orchestra commissioning project Made in America in Glens Falls, New York. What struck me most was her general distress over the state of the composer-orchestra musician relationship. Having come out of the chamber music world, she placed herself in the same camp as the rest of the musicians, though having logged some hours on the podium personally, she also knew that asking the “orchestra’s” opinion on a detail could bring a rehearsal to an unforgiving halt. But she wanted to find a workable balance, to underline that she was not “management.” And even if she was willing to schmooze with orchestra donors, she was quick to confide that she was most at home working out a solution to a new passage or even just telling jokes at the bar with the performing crew. Convincing the orchestra to allow her the opportunity was oddly the difficult part.

Successful composer residencies highlight how the composer and the orchestra fit together when the process is not restricted to a composer drive-by the night of the premiere. When composers are offered time with the players to polish the piece and involve themselves in the community, the energy surrounding premiere events underlines the amazing things that can happen when the musicians and the audience feel personally invested in the process of creating a new work. Suddenly, the Beethoven on the program is genuinely much less exciting.