We met at 7pm on a Friday in Detroit and were assigned a genre (Sci Fi), a character (Jason/Janice Strawberry, realtor), a prop (an award), and a line of dialogue (“Take your time.”). All of these things had to be included in a final film that we turned in at 7pm the following Sunday.

It was a pretty crazy 48 hours. I was the producer, and my great friend and frequent creative collaborator Sam Merciers was the director. I would guess that we each got about 7 hours of sleep over the whole weekend, but it was completely worth it. I had more fun than just about anything else I’ve done all summer long. I experienced some of the same satisfaction I experience as a performer when a lot of hard work and preparation comes to fruition. There was also the exhilaration of improvisation from being asked spontaneously create something that is at once artistic and appropriate and technically sound.

In the end, I am extremely proud of what we created, especially considering we had never made a film before on any schedule. We got to see it on the big screen (or at least a big screen) at the Main Art Theater in Royal Oak, MI along with an audience of around 500 people. The experience reminded me forcibly of the feeling I get at the premiere of a new piece I’ve written. I hope it goes well, but it might completely bomb, and worst of all, it’s completely out of my control at that point.

For your consideration: Download.

Tonight, we’re going back down to Detroit for the awards presentation. I’ll be sure to post back here with the results.

Here are a few pictures of us during the production:

If we deploy enough gear, we almost look like we know what we're doing. We didn't really have a compelling plot reason for shooting at SCENE, but Tim Lane was kind enough to give us permission and the place and the art just looks so dang cool, we couldn't pass it up.

Emiliano and Matt (left) are composing and recording the score. Ben (top right) is editing the audio recorded on set. Corrina (bottom right) is working on a logo graphic for the credits.

]]> http://davidmacdonaldmusic.com/be-creative-now/feed 1 http://davidmacdonaldmusic.com/das-ist-gut-ja http://davidmacdonaldmusic.com/das-ist-gut-ja#comments Mon, 02 Aug 2010 17:29:48 +0000 David MacDonald http://davidmacdonaldmusic.com/?p=183 [...]]]> I’m pretty sure that’s German.

Sometimes, I like to Google the titles of my pieces in the hopes that I will find that they have been programmed by performers that I don’t know. It’s a bit silly, and I’ve not really found that many, but hope springs eternal (or something like that). I was doing just such a search yesterday when I came upon this. It’s a Wikipedia article about me.

The article is in what I can only surmise is perfect German. I have no idea who wrote it, and I don’t think I know of any Germans who have played or been involved in my music. Most vexingly, there is no corresponding article in the English Wikipedia.

Apparently, I’m huge in Germany. Add that to the list of things I have in common with David Hasselhoff.

In the film, there’s a very funny scene in which Navin Johnson, played by Martin, ecstatically proclaims “I’m somebody! Look! My name in print!” even though the “print” in question is the local phone directory.

I had that experience the other day when I discovered my name in the iTunes store, where the H2 Quartet‘s new album Times and Spaces is now available. Yes, I know. Just about anybody can put music in the iTunes store if they’re willing to jump through the right hoops. But I’m really proud of this piece and the recording, even though I had very little to do with the recording. In fact, maybe that’s what makes me so happy about it. It’s one of the few times in my brief career that I haven’t had to beg for performers or herd metaphorical cats in rehearsal. Yet there it is, my name in print.

Incidentally, the CD is also available as a digital download from Amazon, but they don’t list composers over there. Check it out from your preferred download dealer.

iTunes – Amazon

He separated the audience into two groups for each piece: a group who had heard the work before and a group who hadn’t. The latter group he liked to call “the innocents,” and the masterclass mostly took the form of a focus group discussion. After each piece, Corigliano asked, “What did you hear?” He wasn’t interested in what anybody liked or didn’t like. He wanted their empirical observations about the materials, their development, and the form. It was a nice little experiment that proved one of the things that Dr. Lorenz has told me before: anytime you feel like you’re really beating the audience over the head with an idea, you’re only beginning to make it clear.”

Toward the end of the observation discussion for each piece, he allowed himself to slip into a few opinions. He told me the disintegrating ending of my quartet was “really quite lovely” and that it was a “great piece.” Not much to snip out and put on a website or anything, but I’ll take it.

If you don’t know what a masterclass is, or if you’ve only been to performance masterclasses, composer John Adams just wrote a humorous and thoughtful essay on composition masterclasses that you should read. As a summary, I will tell you that he calls the student composer “the victim” and the process “ritual disembowelment.”

I find masterclasses to be a bit nerve-wracking in the best of situations, but this will be something else altogether. This will be a masterclass given by one of the most prominent American composers of his generation, and I imagine it will be attended by several members of the faculty from outside the composition area. Thankfully, I will be presenting a rather short (6½ min.) piece, Falling up the down escalator. Also, I happen to have a stellar, recently-released recording by the H2 Quartet.

I’m hoping to come out of the experience smarter but not in too much pain.

We checked in. Right away, we were reminded of our little scheme by my name badge: “Folio Publishing: David MacDonald.” Game on.

In the morning, we heard some great performances and some awful performances. Sam heard two guys play that he really wanted to have play his sax and electronics piece, simony. Later in the afternoon was Sam’s piece, trying it at home, played by the Iridium Quartet. Phillip and Nate got in just in time to hear the performance. At the end of the day, we were all pretty exhausted (especially Phillip and Nate, who had been in transit for around 18 hours).

Today, we got to set up our Folio Publishing Cooperative booth. Several people stopped by and looked at our stuff. A lot of people listened to our recordings (some people listened to the same piece more than once!), and a few told us they would be back tomorrow to buy things. Tomorrow we’re going to take credit cards. Yeah, we’re that cool. Unfortunately, though, the bottom line is this: We sold two things today. Two of Joe Lulloff’s CDs. If things continue this way, I’m going to feel really stupid. I was the one who convinced all of my friends to shell out some cash for the table and put together loads of scores for this silly thing. But again, it’s important to contextualize the definition of success. Sometimes that takes a bit of perspective and reflection. We had plenty working against our success as well. Not many people had heard of the composers at our table, no one had heard of our company, and as I told the composers involved, I would be a bit hesistant to give money or my credit card number at a seemingly fly-by-night conference vendor. Folio Publishing Cooperative will evolve the same way trying it at home will probably evolve. And when we get to where we’re going, we’ll have a different definition of success.

On a brighter note, H2 played my piece, Falling up the down escalator. They played it around 10 clicks faster than I’ve ever heard them play it before, but it sounded great. Even better: the hall was packed. Several people came by the table afterward to check out the score and tell me how much they enjoyed the piece. We’ll see if that turns into any sales in the next couple of days.

The goal of our voyage is to narrow the gap between composers and publishers. We’re headed to the North American Saxophone Alliance Biennial Conference. Each of us have works being played, but we’re also going to distribute scores. We have a trunk load of scores, parts, and CDs from our colleagues at Michigan State that we will be selling (hopefully) to saxophonists at the conference. We think our music is valuable, and we think we can convince others of its value as well.

This is a bit of an experiment. We don’t really know if anybody will be interested in our scores, or how much they’ll be willing to pay. But if Jacob Ter Veldhuis can sell scores by the bucket, what’s stopping us?

With the de-mystification of computers and the internet and the decreasing price of high-quality printers, the list of things that publishers can do for composers that composers can’t do for themselves is getting smaller every day. Perhaps the biggest thing remaining is distribution. The two of us, along with the rest of the Folio Publishing Cooperative, are trying to take that one as well by taking our music directly to performers.

Next on Folio Publishing Cooperative…

Will our heroes arrive in Georgia safely?

And will anyone spend real money on their scores?

(dramatic music)

not this NASA

Next Tuesday morning, I’m leaving East Lansing and heading south to Athens, Georgia for the North American Saxophone Alliance Biennial Conference. They claim to have been NASA before NASA was NASA, but I don’t believe it. Anyway, the H2 saxophone quartet will be playing my piece, Falling up the down escalator. Hopefully, they’ll also have copies of their new CD, Times and Spaces, on which they’ve recorded some really excellent new saxophone music, including my piece. I’ll also be there with a few composer friends, Sam Merciers, Nate Bliton, and Phillip Sink. We’ll have an exhibit booth, and we’ll be selling our scores there. Look for Folio Publishing Cooperative.

I’m looking forward to the conference and the performances and the networking, but more than that, I’m looking forward to a little pseudo-vacation from the frozen hinterland.