This is me talking about my piece on the show.

I find myself these days thinking about the end of empires. What was it like as the Lusignan dynasty folded into itself, overcome by the ascendant Ottomans? Did the courtiers sense what was happening? What did a court composer think of his work at a time like that? Did he question his purpose in a dusty, fading outpost, forgotten by the mainland? Perhaps he slowly turned the pages of a book of music, dreaming jealously of his more fortunate predecessors, questioning the importance of music at a time like his. Or maybe he redoubled his efforts, seeing himself as a musical witness to history. My piece for this concert, "My sorrow of rare proportion," a tiny thing, is based on the medieval rondeau, more or less. "Rare proportion" is an old-fashioned way of talking about irrational rhythms (like 7 into 3, etc.) and thus refers not only to a depth of feeling but also the supple means of its portrayal. Its two kinds of material, textures as much as tunes, evolve the way empires do. Meaning, one kind of music grinds to a halt under under the weight of its own excesses, while the other slowly disappears without a trace.

photo http://www.flickr.com/photos/antmoose/17433068/

Brand New Anniversary Podcast!

In celebration of c)i’s 10^th birthday, we’re reaching into the archives to revisit some great performances of concerts past.

Our first retrospective podcast takes us back to this seasons’ opener, a show called ROOT, BRANCH, CRYSTAL, from last October at the Tenri Cultural Institute in New York City. On that program we performed Caroline Mallonee’sThrowing Mountains This piece tied for first place in c)i’s first composition competition back in 2006. The band was especially attracted to the piece’s vivacious extraversion, strong lines, and general all-out rockingness.

Caroline Mallonée says about her work: “Throwing pots” is the terminology for the process of creating a ceramic piece using natural forces and natural materials. The momentum of the wheel allows the potter to create symmetrical objects out of earth and water. Throwing pots is also a fun and loud way to dispose of thrown pots. In Throwing Mountains, ranges and peaks arise from the momentum of the music. Throwing mountains in the end might also be said to be a fun and loud way to dispose of thrown mountains.”

Don’t forget to join us on Monday, June 15 for our concert “Rewind>>Fastforward: 10 years of counterinduction”. This Merkin Hall program will celebrate our decade of great new music and great performances with world premieres by Eric Moe, Douglas Boyce, and Kyle Bartlett, as well as the winner of our 2^nd Composition competition. To find out more visit us at counterinduction.com and on Facebook, and don’t forget that there are more great c)i podcasts to be had on iTunes.

c)i podcast: Mallonée's Throwing Mountains

To subscribe, click here Or visit www.itunes.com and search for counterinduction.

The granularity of work

I’m currently working on two pieces.  One is The Lost Child, a kind of “opera” for flute with electronics, percussion, recorded sounds, and actor. It’s by far the biggest project I’ve ever done, both aesthetically and in terms of logistics.  At the same time I am working on Adagio sostenuto for our June 15^th anniversary concert.  It’s my sixth work involving the whole c)i instrumentation, which I find surprising. I had no idea! What’s impressive is that I still feel like I’m just getting started with this sonority, I’m just digging into the possibilities not only of the instruments but also of the expressive characters of the c)i performers.  Like Doug, when I write for these musicians I feel I’m not just writing for the instrument, I’m writing for the player.  It is a privileged position to have a long-term relationship with a group of such virtuosic, dedicated, creatively astonishing and generous people.  With these musicians I never feel worried about the piece not being understood, or not being prepared.  

 But how did we get to this place?  I’ve been thinking a lot about continuity; that’s what Adagio sostenuto is about, I think.  I get confused when I’m making a piece. I often forget what came first: some nameless creative impulse, a certain “taste in the mouth” of what the piece should be, or my fine philosophical justifications for those impulses and vague notions. The program notes! Anyway, I had already been working with these mass textures made up of tiny events, like clouds or swarms.  The surface sensation is of a solid substance, but when you look closer it is really many tiny grains of sound.  Then I started to think that being in counter)induction is like that.  When you say “10 years” it feels like some big object, some Monumental Achievement. But what it really is, is countless individual rehearsals, meetings, hours at the desk composing, mountains of press releases, postcards, emails (God, the emails!), writing grants, setting up chairs before a concert, playing the concerts…  Countless individual acts that add up to ten years of effort, ten years of music.