Dispensation Project - this project will include 7 substantive works for trombone and piano. Each work reflects periods of musical and artistic growth throughout my personal development. I will release these recordings over time and hope to blog more specifically about the context, preparation, performance, and meaning of each work.
Dispensation - a certain order, system, or arrangement; administration or management. Theology. the divine ordering of the affairs of the world. an appointment, arrangement, or favor, as by God.
For more information about the Dispensation Project - please visit www.baylortrombones.com
Stories:
Each work has a detailed story for me. Below is an excerpt from a future blog containing stories of each piece, their significance, the journey involved, and how my approach to life, music, and trombone has changed.
The sacred file cabinet - there was a file cabinet in the studio at Rice that contained original scores to each of these works owned by David Waters. Remember, this was decades before internet and online libraries. I remember seeing for the first time a parchment like original of the Martin Ballade in the Rice University studio with my professor carefully guarding the studio threshold as these works were never to cross. The nearest copy machine was at Kinkos in the Rice Village. I had to sneak the part out and make a "practice copy" if I was to get a head start. Otherwise, I was relegated to plowing through the thousand page catalog of Brass Wind to find the catalog number, tear off the order form, write a check, find a stamp, and place my order in the mail.. This took both time and offered a certain feeling of commitment and you never really knew until weeks later if it would be in stock. This is in stark contrast to my daily work on the "ForScore" app on my iPad.
These yellowed originals of ancient trombone works even had a distinctive worn and well aged smell to them. You could see markings from all of those who came before me and attempted the Martin Ballade. Many of the markings were conflicting and you could tell there were multiple iterations of each phrase - positions were marked, erased, re-marked, and breath marks had been tirelessly worked out. At first glance, the Martin Ballade seemed stark and to be frank, a bit boring. It was not a piece I chose to play - it was assigned. Curriculum and mentoring by a teacher is incredibly important. It is entirely likely that I would have abandoned this work after a short time of practice. Because that was NOT an option, I learned to work through the many struggles, weaknesses and holes in my playing that otherwise would have been postponed.
I soon learned that the Ballade is an extremely difficult "ask." There are pages of long, high, sustained powerful passages that evoke epic desperation, followed by nuanced against the grain natural slurs and perfect slide technique. The piano score is an entirely different dilemma.
My first performance of this work as an undergraduate by most standards was not a success. I remember hanging on to the high D, top of the second page, in a jury/performance and thinking, "if this is what I feel like now, there is no possible way I will get through the last measure." This piece has come full circle for me, as I now have performed it dozens of times, and on four recitals for Collaborative Piano searches, and Yu-Chien's master's recital. The opening solo phrase contains the seed of an overarching structure that germinates based on perfectly thought out decisions. If you make a choice in the first phrase to linger on the lowest F in the phrase then that should cary forward to each subsequent phrase, and ultimately through to the culminating climax where the phrase is augmented in form. One choice leads to another, which leads to another and so on - if you make a change later, then you need to revisit what you did in the second measure. I learned quickly that I was not the first to explore this work. I was forced to recognize that many had come before and my responsibility to Frank Martin is to carefully balance the directions in the score with those performance practices that had come before me the last 50 years (now 100 years) ago.
I walked off the Duncan Recital Hall stage to the sound of my professors tapping their pencils on the desk in the back, apparently acknowledging my heroic attempt. The jury comments were much less affirming. There were so many deficiencies and began to realize that I was defining "success" by the authority and command on the high D at rehearsal 5 on the second page. If that note didn't happen, the performance was a failure! How many times do we do this in life? How many pieces have we shelved out of fear of two measures? Also, playing for a jury of professors and playing for an audience are different - right? Or not.... This is a subject I have given so much thought. More to come on this later......
Next up: Paul Creston - Fantasy
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