July 18, 2013

Plunged into the rain last night to hear music from my buddies at Apothecary.  I hadn’t appreciated the esoteric nature of what they’re doing; there were ten people in the room when the music began, three of them not associated with the organization. I wanted to remark on the incredible self-indulgence of everything, but I may be reading the scene wrong.  Just because I don’t know when the goofing around ends and the music begins doesn’t mean nobody does. Handsome Alec’s piece was up first. There was Alec, a violin, Frank on bass, a percussionist, and another musician on Skype. I was ready for the aleatoric , but it wasn’t that at all, but highly controlled, the musician waiting for a nod from the composer, having received (I learned later) detailed instructions beforehand. The electronic part, the part supplied by the invisible (to us) musician on Skype, ranged from mildly irritating to extremely irritating. You wonder if a young composer is open to suggestions, to the observation that sometimes one’s coolest idea simply doesn’t work. But the rest, when you could shove the computer aside, turned out to be fine– a sort of acquired order, Alec’s ethereal vocals, an essential rhythm . I was thinking by the end that it was quite beautiful.

Call from MP, wanting to go forward on the commission. I am all aglow.