Some composers get really nervous leading up to a premiere. I’ve never been that kind of composer. One of the great benefits of being a composer is that I don’t have to stress over performances. At the point that I’m sitting in the hall to hear the piece, there is literally nothing I can do that will affect the outcome of the performance. This realization is, I suppose, the cause of stress in other composers. I find this unproductive at best.

Having said all that, I’m a little nervous about a premiere of mine that’s happening tomorrow. “Why?” you might ask. This is one of the first times I’ve ever had a work premiered that I wasn’t attending and that I’ve never actually heard played in person. I have great faith in my friend Tim Rosenberg who is giving the premiere tomorrow in Tempe, Arizona. But Tim has been living in New York and Florida since we started this project. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even seen Tim in person for over a year. I’ve heard him play over Skype, and we’ve talked about the piece a lot, but it’s not the same.

Writing a piece and handing it off to a performer has often been compared to raising a child and sending it out into the world. I feel like I’ve driven my toddler to the airport, dropped him off at baggage check-in, handed him a $50 bill, and wished him the best of luck. I’m just hoping he makes it to wherever it is he’s going.

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SIDE NOTE: Tim just redesigned his website. It’s both beautifully designed and humorously written. This is the kind of site all professional musicians should have. The virtuoso you can have a beer (or a bourbon) with. Click this link to go there. It will make his analytics go up, and that makes everybody feel good, right?

first system of alone together

I just sent an email to my Kickstarter backers with a PDF of the score, and hard copies are going in the mail today. Right after I finished sending the PDF out, I checked my usual web comics and found this gem on Married to the Sea:

Married to the Sea, 5 March 2012

This was today’s comic! I swear I didn’t plan that.

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.