composing and its contexts

I have been writing music almost continuously now for the last thirty-five years.  Perhaps because I arrived at the age of  fifty this year I have recently felt the necessity to re-examine the relationship between, on the one hand, my compositions and the compositional strategies on which they have been based; and on the other, the various contexts in which the activity of composing was undertaken. I really cannot say whether the provisional conclusions that are beginning to emerge are anything more than a reflection of my own musical disposition: my compositional strengths and limitations, achievements and failures; or whether perhaps they may contribute in some small way to a more general theory concerning composition and the contexts in which composing takes place. I will leave that to others.

By “contexts” I refer to any and all considerations which have a bearing on the creation of a piece of music, but which are not specifically the outcome of compositional practice in the strictest sense of the term. Such contexts might conveniently be defined as falling into either of two categories, which, for purposes of simplification I am going call The Circumstantial and The Aesthetic. The former may be described as that which a composer must or is permitted to respond to, by force of material circumstances (all of which may have a direct impact on a piece’s composition); the latter that which his personal, individual creative identity impels him to do.

THE CIRCUMSTANTIAL CONTEXT. This is quite simply the set of material conditions that prevail in association with the composition of any individual piece. These may be roughly subdivided into four groups; the following are representative examples of each:

1)   Fixed conditions, prerequisites which cannot be ignored, such as the instrumentation related to a commission and possibly a specified duration for a piece.

2)   Material facilities such as the amount of time allowed for the composition of a piece (including the generosity of the commission fee which affords more or less time as the case may be); also advance knowledge of the amount of available rehearsal time.

3)   Musical facilities such as the competence and experience of the performers who will be involved; the acoustic of the venue in which a piece will be performed.

4)   Peripheral factors, including such psychological factors as the players’ enthusiasm (or lack of it!) for one’s music, and even the extent and nature of any personal relationship with those players.  Any attitude towards the probable audiences for one’s music, and that audiences possible response.

THE AESTHETIC CONTEXT. I should stress that here I am not referring to specifically musical qualities, but rather to a substructure of convictions and reactions (conscious or otherwise) which constitute a composer’s creative identity, and therefore inevitably (whether the composer is aware of it or not) determine much, perhaps everything, about the compositional concerns of that composer. 

The Aesthetic Context may be conveniently subdivided into two distinct conceptual groups:

1)   The Collective - those perceptions, values and assumptions that a composer receives from the cultural orbit, geographical and historical, which he inhabits; also those from whatever cultural environment in which he may have been nurtured.

2)   The Discrete - This includes, firstly, the unique, immanent characteristics of a specific composer’s individual creative disposition; secondly, the consequences of that disposition’s response to characteristics that fall within the collective class to which I have just referred; and thirdly, that disposition’s response to specific experiences (creative or otherwise).  I regard this discrete class as particularly significant, and shall be returning to it later.

The first Context Category (the Circumstantial) clearly consists of given, concrete constraints and opportunities.  However whilst this second (Aesthetic) category is probably in a state of constant evolution throughout a composer’s career, it may also, to some extent, be perceived as a (theoretically)  definable set of given circumstances that prevail at the specific moment of embarking on a piece of music.  Therefore it might be assumed that composition will usually entail exploring a musical idea by means of  relevant compositional strategies, both of which originate in and reflect the composer’s aesthetic persuasion, within the circumstantial contexts that apply in the case of each individual commission or project.  

Of course it is widely acknowledged that entirely practical (i.e. circumstantial) factors may, not infrequently, result in a composer stumbling on some hitherto unconsidered or unexplored compositional possibility, which, if it becomes integrated into that composer’s compositional vocabulary may be considered as a more or less significant contribution to his musical language as a whole.  Beyond this, however, it is largely taken for granted that a composer’s aesthetic (either at any given point in time, or its development over a period of time) and therefore the musical material produced as an inevitable expression of that aesthetic, remains significantly independent of the various practical circumstances surrounding a composition;  these must simply be turned to advantage if a composer is to realise the potential of musical ideas. 

There are, of course a number of significant examples of composers openly acknowledging that a profound stylistic transformation in their work (one that seems to suggest a corresponding transformation within their creative identity) originated in a response to entirely practical  circumstances; a notable example is Stravinsky’s comments about the composition of The Soldier’s Tale and the economic conditions constraining music at that time.  But such instances are generally considered exceptions.  Furthermore, there is undoubtedly a widespread assumption that the composer who allows more than a limited amount of a piece’s musical identity to be determined by factors outside his personal musical and artistic preoccupations does so at his peril, and is seen to be making artistic concessions.  As such he is presumed deficient in authentic creative volition and possibly also guilty of displaying a lack of so-called “artistic integrity”. 

Whilst not denying that what I termed the Circumstantial considerations can, and frequently do, remain independent of a composer’s aesthetic position, I would argue on the basis of my experience, that the relationship between the two categories Circumstantial and Aesthetic is rather more complex than is commonly assumed.  I suggest that the two categories (and their subdivisions that I listed earlier) are significantly interdependent; and that this, in turn, implies that the notion of a composer’s aesthetic as a largely self-contained entity (characterised by a unique relationship between an individual creative personality and a culturally evolved system) is something of a misconception.  It fails to take into account an important implication of that reciprocal process whereby not only does a composer’s aesthetic obviously inform his compositional decisions, but equally, the experiences of making those decisions, of exploring purely compositional ideas, techniques and so forth, may contribute to an evolving aesthetic.  However, if circumstantial factors exert an influence on compositional activity they may also, as a consequence, have a significant impact on the underlying aesthetic.  In as much as I would describe composition more as a process of self-definition, even self-formation, than one of self-expression, I would also therefore acknowledge the contribution of entirely circumstantial, that is practical and material, circumstances to this process. 

Returning to that class within the Aesthetic category that I defined as the Discrete, I have come to perceive this as being extremely complex, and often seemingly contradictory, or at least paradoxical.  This is not to suggest that I experience a sense of inconsistency within my own works that I attribute to contradictions within the aesthetic substructure that gave rise to those works; but rather that I have come to identify both an underlying consistency which to some extent unites individual pieces, and at the same time a substantial shift in focus from piece to piece, or at least between groups of pieces. This shift in focus undoubtedly originates in a corresponding shift of emphasis within a number of ongoing concerns that are certainly not confined exclusively to musical and compositional interests, but are fundamentally aesthetic issues.  However, I am also convinced that these shifts within my aesthetic position can be attributed not only to previous compositional and creative experiences, but (and of particular relevance to the object of this talk) also to the circumstantial: the practical and material conditions surrounding the composition of specific pieces. 

I have therefore come to perceive the structure of my aesthetic world as a single but multi-faceted entity, or as an ever-evolving spectrum of possibilities; impelling creative momentum on the one hand, but also absorbing, reacting to, interpreting and re-interpreting experiences, be they musical and compositional, or more generally conceptual; and as I have already suggested, I include within this structure the influence of circumstantial factors - an indirect influence perhaps, but a significant one nonetheless.  This significance lies in the fact that the circumstantial context of any particular compositional project may both, in the short term, encourage a focus on a point or area within that spectrum of possibilities, thereby determining essential features of the piece to be written; and, in the long term, via the compositional ideas and strategies that were in consequence developed, contribute to a broadening or redefining of that spectrum.   

I see my work over the years as reflecting this movement within, and expansion of, that spectrum of possibilities which has evolved and continues to evolve through the ongoing interaction between my nature and musical dispostion on the one hand, and the objective circumstance within which I have been working on the other.  This perception is confirmed to me when I consider the overt contrast between a group of works composed between 1982 and 85: Moondance, Sonata for Guitar, Lollay Lollay, and Chamber Concerto, all of which might be described as characterised by a progressive linearity of material (melodic and harmonic), and other pieces written either immediately before that period, such as Earthcrust, or just after it such as La Settima Bolgia, Eidos and Janus, all of which have their origins in larger scale, formal concerns; and all of which offer a more 'diffracted' alternative to the somewhat more conventional notions of melody and harmony found in the pieces of the 1982 to 85.

Nevertheless, on closer inspection there is a greater continuity to be found between the pieces of the early 1980s and those composed before or after than is immediately obvious, and Madrigal completed in 1988 in some ways makes these connections explicit.  What is certainly significant in terms of this talk are the facts surrounding the commissions and performances of all the pieces I have mentioned, the Circumstantial Contexts of their composition.  Moondance, Lollay Lollay, and Chamber Concerto were all composed for performance by my own Uroboros Ensemble in tours of provincial English towns; and recognising the improbability of there being many enthusiasts of contemporary music in the audiences, but at the same time not being prepared to compromise on the question of style, I evolved a way of working which both addressed my compositional preoccupations of that time and produced pieces that were hopefully comprehensible (if not pleasing) to the audiences in question. A similar situation prevailed in connection with the Sonata for Guitar. The cynic might argue that I am simply trying to justify a compromise by describing it in other terms; but listening to those pieces with an objectivity granted by the passage of time I can both acknowledge their 'authenticity' and also understand their position within and contribution to my output as a whole.

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