Piano Concerto in C-Minor

On February 10th, 2019 Andreas Boelcke, David Peek, and the Town and Country Symphony Orchestra played my piano concerto. Here's how it went. :)

My thanks to all who helped to make this possible. And thank you all for listening.

Sincerely,

The Composer

Announcing a New Piano Concerto

I'll try to make this fairly quick, but hopefully exciting. While I haven't posted much this year, I've actually not been completely dormant. For starters, I'm playing with an orchestra again, which has taken some of my free time. This might not sound like much, but it sets up the next part: That orchestra is playing my piano concerto, with the help of an old college friend. I give you the Town and Country Symphony Orchestra and their annual chamber concert at Parkway United Church of Christ. On Sunday February 10th David Peek will conduct the TCSO and Andreas Boelcke in a performance of a keyboard concerto by Bach, Gabriel's Oboe from The Mission, and my first (and so far only) piano concerto.


Again, this will be Sunday, February 10th 2019 at 2:30 pm.
Parkway United Church of Christ
2841 N. Ballas Rd.
St. Louis, MO 63131

I'm running a small fundraising drive on Kickstarter to offset my own expenses related to the project.(Most prominently a plane ticket to get the pianist from Berlin to St. Louis and back.) Please feel free to take a peek at my Kickstarter. You can buy a CD there, a score, or a few other nifty things. And anything we raise beyond expenses will go to support the TCSO in their mission to bring great free music to the community in western and northern St. Louis county.

Either way, please come to the show. I hope that you will enjoy it. There will be a little bit of something for everyone. And . . . it's free. (Best price ever.)

Sincerely,
The Composer.

Classical Music Video

I'm not dead yet. In fact, quite the opposite. It was a rather productive summer, though not one when I wrote much. Instead I concentrated on recording. If you're familiar with my Studies and Inventions you'll know that they aren't studies in the traditional "if you do this you will learn to play better" sense, but rather more in the "I'm playing around sketching stuff with new techniques" sense that visual artists might use.

The first piece, Study No. 8: "Scherzo," plays with a heavy front loaded double dotted rhythm in the Russian style and some "black key/white key" games in something of the manner of early Stravinsky, which is to say the left hand and right hand aren't always in the same key precisely. Stravinsky sometimes called such pieces "scherzi" or jokes, so I've taken that title.

Next is Study No. 9: "French Moment." This one is a little more straightforward. It's mostly an experiment in modality, dancing between the Phrygian and Aeolian flavors of e. (Mostly settling on the former.)

At this point I started to get a bit more daring with my video production. (Marginally.) For the next piece, Study 10: "Something Jazzy," I decided to use that distinctly American style of splashy signage which is roughly coaeval with the music I wished to evoke.

I should, perhaps, confess that I actually shot this next video before the one above. But it is a much more complex and ambitious experiment. It accompanies a piece called Study 13: "Slate Grey Skies," to which end I felt obliged to play with light in more complicated ways. It doesn't precisely tell a story, but I hope it evokes a strong mood. I have particular adjectives in mind, but I will leave it to you, dear listener, to name them.

Lastly I wrap up with a simple but playful piece called Study 14: "Syncopated Rhythm." It's quite short, so there aren't any fancy cinema tricks here. Just a pianist. In a hat.

 

I did also record a few pieces by other composers. Since I, of course, play other people. Several of them can be found on the youtube channel. Along with other sorts of endeavors entirely. But I will wrap up there for now. Thank you for following along.

Sincerely,

The Composer

Morning in the Sun and Other Distractions

So it seems that in the midst of all the hubbub of the new year there were a few things I'd meant to post and never did. And now it's April.

Wherever has sweet time gone while I wasn't looking?

I've posted these one or two other places, so if you've already seen them I beg your indulgence. All are motion picture experiments of one sort or another. All are accompanied by music I've written and haphazardly recorded after a fashion. Two use my toys. One video was even intentionally designed specifically to go with that music, in that MTV way . . . if rock bands had no budgets and stood an inch and a half tall. All tell a story in one way or another. So, hey, they fit, right? Anyway . . .

Let there be video!

I call this first one Christmas on Tartarus. The toys you'll have seen. The over-scale tree in the middle of town? What was that about sweet time? The two piano pieces aren't particularly recent, both hailing from the early aughts. But the video was from last December, so it's new enough.

This next one is more of a story, and less "classical", save possibly in the rock sense. And hey, that's 28mm me and my 28mm sweetheart, so maybe it's a love story.

(Word of warning: this one's a little longer and starts out slow.)

This last one is more of an "art" piece. It's really just a Koyanisquatsi reference if it were a video for Short Ride in a Fast Machine. (Which . . . has been done, of course.) But hey, I think of this as Rachmaninov meets Glass, so maybe that's not altogether inappropriate. The piece probably owes something to both.

Anyway, thank you for watching. And listening.

Sincerely,
The Composer

(See? I really do compose. Honest.)

Ars Contra Tyrannus

Here's a somewhat special moment: a back to basics moment. I started blogging to write about music and got carried away with gaming instead. I do not wish to lose my sci-fi chi, but events can sometimes catapult you back to places you'd forgotten. This is one such case. For some reason I feel as though those of us who appreciate that magical spot at the end of the rainbow where we can feel welcome need some music to march to. We have a long walk ahead of us. In fact, a friend asked me to write some walking music for just that purpose.

I'm not really by nature a pop song composer. I'm a fugue and symphony guy, so I had to venture into slightly unfamiliar territory to do this. I've done a few before, but not whole heap tons of 'em.

So this last week or so has been something of a learning experience. Not only did I write that walking song, but I also made some demo-ish recordings of it and several other popular songs that have been sitting on the back burner. First, let me give you a glimpse inside the Empty Pocket Studios . . .

Please note carefully the expensive recording equipment dangling off the music stand. If it looks like something you might expect to see someone wearing in your finer Midwestern truckstops, it is. It's the headset off my low-budget smarty phone. And the cymbal is the same frying pan lid I played when I was four or five and climbing in and out of my mom's kitchen cabinets. Yeah, the instruments are real enough, and yeah, they mostly cost more than a microphone, so maybe my priorities are misplaced, but . . . well . . . whoopsie daisy. Emptied my pockets buying things that make noise and had nothing left for things that detect noise.

So I started last week off by making recordings of a couple of older things that I've wanted to render more presentable for a long time. The first was originally intended for a radio play that has, thus far, remained unproduced. It was somewhat the easier, as I let my computer do all the complicated instrumental performance work and I just sang. The second was more adventurous. I decided I wanted to play it myself.  That's where the frying pan comes in. (It will be back later.) This one is a very odd bit of fan service: a song for a band called Mushrööm Klöwd.

I'll try to give these other pieces proper posts of their own later, but we're here to talk about protest. I'd been struggling with what to write until I looked over at my wall.

This is a painting by a friend of mine, Kerry Hirth, called "The Unfortunate Rake." My progress has been slightly more tangential to Bedlam than directly towards it, but this could well have been me at several points in my life. Still, Kerry insists there's no connection. Instead, she reports that it's based on a piece of music by the same title. An Irish fiddle tune, I believe she said.

Kerry has an interesting way of sensing the world around her. She strongly associates colors and harmonies. She can literally see the colors in a piece of music. This is a form of what's called synesthesia. I don't want to get into the technical woods here, as it's complicated, not my specialty, and there's quite a bit of debate anyway. Suffice it to say, however, that while somewhat rare, there's quite a history of it among famous artists and musicians alike. Kerry uses it as the basis of many of her paintings.

I, on the other hand, am not one of those synesthetic artists. I appreciate where she's coming from, and I'm darned interested to see what she sees when she hears my music, but to me, it looks more like an odd rainbow than music. I looked at it and I thought . . . rainbows: "The colors of the rainbow are hanging on my wall. The colors of the rainbow, don't ever let them fall."

So there it was, the beginnings of a song about rainbows. That's a good start. Of course, my wall was a little specific, so I worked to generalize the chorus a little better and wrote some verses for  the details largely cribbed from the life stories of friends with some small artistic license. The stories are mostly painted in pretty broad strokes that would doubtless be similar to lots of folks. (Actually, a couple apply equally to several of my friends. Everything but the raft episode is pretty general, and that's the one I changed the most anyway.)

Without further ado, let me present to you the "Rainbow War Song":

. . . . .

The Colors of the Rainbow

D. Ackerman

1/20/2017

When I was a young man I felt I walked alone,

A shining spot of color in a world of monochrome.

I fought to be my own man, to sing a different tone.

Little did I know then of the shining rainbow home.

Chorus:

The colors of the rainbow are standing proud and tall.

Each color of the rainbow, don't ever let one fall.

Let the people of the rainbow sing of peace and harmony

Know that if we march together our colors can be free.

Each person of the rainbow has a place inside the whole.

We will carry one another to reach our rainbow goal.

My friend, she was a young girl trapped inside a stranger's skin.

The preachers at the churches told her changing would be sin.

But she found the rainbow nation and she learned a different way.

The great big rainbow family had a different way to pray.

Chorus

Let me tell you of my old friend and his tremendous craft;

To escape from fire and flooding he built himself a raft.

By the light of our great rainbow he sailed across the sea

To a land of milk and honey he builds with you and me.

Chorus

The young woman fled the jungle where the war had taken hold.

She paid the price for transport with eight pieces made of gold.

In the belly of the trawler she was smuggled 'cross the sea

To the shining rainbow nation where her colors can be free.

Chorus

. . . . .

There is, of course, an audio version recorded by some half competent singer and pianist. (Maybe even three quarters competent if he would ever practice, but he did not.) This is really just demonstration grade stuff, not actual performance grade. Empty Pocket is largely empty of sound equipment, so I didn't invest that much time in the recording. The idea is to get this piece at least out there so folks as need it can use it and perhaps add their own verses if they so choose.

Anyway, so that's my last week or so. Thank you for listening.

Sincerely,

The Composer

Work, websites, and piano concerti

My most loyal followers might note that I am, as usual, overdue for the annual fleet review. I am sad to say that this will continue for a little while longer, but do not fear, ships will assemble in the harbor very soon. But first, a bit as to why this has not yet occurred. (After all, the Grand Empress just had her first jubilee. It is that time.)

Ships have lately taken a back seat to music . . . or at least thoughts about thinking about music. Or perhaps more accurately fury at a website lost. For somewhat over twenty years I, your humble composer, have been a minor functionary at the local ShowMe University Inc. I was mostly retained for the sake of hanging heavy things in the air once or twice a year. Well, said University has revamped their HR procedures. They used to purge the rolls of employees who had not worked for one calendar year. Now they do it every six months. One rigger who works twice, or maybe once a year never got the memo.

So I found myself without benefit of the free (though less than completely convenient) web-hosting services I'd enjo . . . excuse me, used for the last eight years or so. I have been reconstructing my website in the wilds of the internet, away from sheltered academic surrounds. In short, I am back. It took some real effort to get here, and there will no doubt be one or two bugs to work out, but I'm back. I may not be completely finished with my U career, since they do still need to hang heavy things twice (or once) a year, but the terms of any engagement will henceforward be different, more interesting. Indeed, more rewarding. And I will maintain my website elsewhere. More fun anyway. I pay a little for the privilege, but I have more freedom and better access. It's hard to complain now that the work is more or less done.

So if you can stand a little music, take a poke around my new demesne. I had long meant to talk about music on this blog and do so only rarely. I even have good reason to do so presently. I'm releasing the first elements of a Piano Concerto into the world on my new works page. This is yet another piece whose thematic material came to me in the shower one day. I like to think of it as Rachmaninov meets minimalism. Sort of. With luck it's one of my more approachable pieces. In any case, I hope that you might enjoy it.

Sincerely,
The Composer

Music and Miniatures

I've been involved in an online discussion lately where a group of us are trying to refight the Second World War as Japan. We represent a kinder gentler Japan. (Though one still bent on securing the resources we need for independence. And liberating East Asia from colonial oppression seems the way to go about it.) For the most part this has involved cleaning up our military, treating the locals with decency so that we can gain their support, waging a PR campaign in the United States so that the electorate there knows that we genuinely have swept away Tojo and the militaristic nationalists, and of course lots and lots of logistics. (How many c. 5" rifles can we build? How many graving docks over 600' do we have? How much steel? How much rubber? How much bauxite can we get from Indochina? How much oil from Borneo? How many additional merchant hulls will we need? How can we prevent losses? How much efficiency will we lose by instituting a convoy system? Can we afford conversions? Destroyers? Carriers? You get the idea.)

Well, in the midst of all this serious talk our esteemed Prime Minister, while talking about what to call some of our proposed special use infantry units, suggested "storm troopers" and wondered if we could get someone from Hollywood to write some theme music. Well, that was enough for the good Admiral Noka Shijin. In his academy days his friends called him "Shinfonikku Shijin." (Or Symphonic Poet if you prefer English.) So he blew the dust off some "theme music" and posted a couple of videos to YouTube featuring our fleet, and one with some trolls and goblins just for entertainment. (Should we wish to be evil and twirl our mustaches.)

Since this is falls at the very intersection of all that I try to write about here, save for the poetry, I would be quite remiss if I didn't repost it . . .

So, if you want to hear my third symphony, you can listen to the first movement on YouTube.

Since it's longer than their beblasted ten minute limit there's also a second part to said first movement.

And the mustache twirling (from a ballet I wrote for my late sister) is also available for your listening pleasure. (With orcs.)

Sincerely,

The Composer

New Music

Appearances of late might cause one to think this should be called New Poetry. I like poetry, and I'm not completely horrible, but this simply is not the case. I actually spend much more time writing music, and the volume of music I've written is proof of as much. I just haven't plastered so much of it here.

So here's a bit of my more recent work, in this case two pieces for brass quintet as performed by John Perkins and Alex Pickard on trumpet, Bruce Gordon on horn, and Dan Witter and Todd Yatsook on trombone.

Fanfare and Fugue for Brass Quintet

Romon's March

This is a slightly more extended piece. I'd even go so far as to say it's somewhat better, but at present the only recording I have is one executed by a computer. And they've got no soul, to say the least, so it's missing a certain something. But here it is anyway:

Toccata for Keyboard

In the slightly less new music category (but still quite new in the grand scheme of things) here are two pieces performed by Rachel Aubuchon for a recital in the University of Missouri at Columbia’s Whitmore Hall in April of 2004:

Rondo on a Lullaby for Norah

Fugue in G-sharp Minor

There's quite a lot more where that came from, including a growing body of orchestral works, and scores to a few radio plays, but this will suffice for now. While this is very much at the core of my being, it may well be that the majority of the people on here will prefer not to delve that deeply into me. I seem to have a musical style that's horribly out of fashion embedded into the deep parts of my psyche. It's my private curse, I suppose, but I wouldn't trade it for all the world. It would be a very bad trade if I did.

So happy surfing net fans. And enjoy what you may.

Sincerely,
The Composer

The musical life

It's been some time since last I posted here. I've tried twice in the last week or so with no success. First I attempted to respond to a quiz that witchzenka sent my way. (She's wonderful guys. Get to know her if you can.) But alas I found myself distracted in the depths of funk. Then I tried to discuss art and love and how they've been troubling me. I found that this was an exceedingly difficult proposition, and probably outside the purview of a quasi-public journal anyway, so I said nothing.

But at the absolute least, I'd like to give you access to my most recent artistic endeavors.

Study 16 is a short piano piece in a vaguely impressionist style.
Toccatta is a more extended piece in a neo-classical style. It may well be the fist movement of a piano suite.
Two works that may be further movements in the same suite are this allemande and this tempo di courante.

There's not much to talk about in terms of current news. I'm still writing music. I'm still chasing smart girls. Both have been pushed a bit further back than I would like by bills that want paying. I'll see what I can do about that, of course, but that's about where I am now. One hopes that things will improve in the fall once classes start back up.

I might perhaps try to revisit some of the more personal emotional stuff in a future post. I've been trying to decide what to do with this journal, and this might be as good a place as any to genuinely discuss my feelings and interests, as my primary goal here is to advertise myself and not my musical skills. (Though I'm always happy to do both.)

I ramble. If you have any particular suggestions or ideas, I'd be glad to hear them. Best wishes. And witchzenka, if by chance you see this, sorry I dropped the ball. I'll try to pick it up later. I promise.

Sincerely,
David