Composering

Silk purses from sow’s ears


We finish up the week’s holiday scribbling (previously: 1, 2, 3, 4) with a boar’s head carol, one of the oldest Christmas traditions there is. When super-intelligent aliens take over the planet and interrogate humanity about our customs, I imagine that the boar’s head will come up around Day 23 or so.

SUPER-INTELLIGENT ALIENS: OK, that’s all we need to know about the Dean Martin Celebrity Roasts. Moving on. Now, this whole boar’s head thing….

HUMANITY: Oh, yeah. The boar’s head—for Christmas.

SIA: That would be the infant-in-a-feeding-trough holiday.

H: That’s the one.

SIA: Now, you’d cut the head off a pig…

H: Yep.

SIA: And you’d put it on a plate…

H: Yep.

SIA: And then parade it around the room and sing to it.

H: Yep, that’s pretty much it.

SIA: And why would you do this?

H: Well, I mean, we had to, didn’t we? That boar is vicious, with those tusks and all. And he’s constantly eating all the crops, isn’t he? We worked hard raising those crops. We had to kill him.

SIA: So it’s revenge, basically.

H: Yeah, I suppose.

SIA: Which you then made into a Christmas thing.

H: Yeah.

SIA: Like Die Hard, but with a pig.

H: Come on, man, you put it that way, it sounds stupid.

Voice and piano, with violin and cello obbligato. Why? Because I can. (Maniacal laughter, &c.) For my brother Dan and his new bride Jenn. (And Jessie, too.) Musically, this one is pure cop show. Not the “Dial ‘M'” cop show-as-slang-for-cool—I mean it sounds like the theme to a 1970s cop show. Sing it while riding on the hood of a speeding car.

Guerrieri: Nowell, Nowell (PDF, 176 KB; surprisingly appropriate MIDI here)

Food, Glorious Food


Today’s carol (previously: 1, 2) comes to us courtesy of 17th-century England, where carving a roast was apparently regarded as a descendant of jousting—an oddly Proustian trigger for chivalric nostalgia. For Karen and Mike (you can share some with the boys if they’ve been good). Tritones and augmented triads make everything festive!

Guerrieri: My Master and Dame (PDF, 99 KB; Cooperstown-Giant-authentic-sounding MIDI here)

Can I start you off with some drinks?


Today’s carol (previously) tells the heartwarming tale of a group of pushy carousers who demand nothing but alcohol. We have no need of your “food”! It might be nutritionally unsound, but I’ll bet a roast goose they gained less weight in December than I will.

For Jeana and Glenn, and critic-at-large Moe’s rural Midwestern counterpart Dougal. Musically: as if 19th-century wassailers were carrying around pocket transistor AM radios.

Guerrieri: Bring Us In Good Ale (PDF, 148 KB; Casiotone-esque MIDI here)

Knock knock


New England has been whomped by two major winter storms in relatively short order. The one on Thursday resulted in the cancellation of choir practice; the one yesterday resulted in the cancellation of church services and our yearly nursing home Christmas service and our yearly community carol sing. Apparently the pagan gods of nature are gaining the upper hand in the mythical War on Christmas. Look for Bill O’Reilly to denounce the singing of “Let It Snow” as an insult to Christian America.

Anyway, I took it as an opportunity to tinker with some original carols. My personal preference is for wassails—if you’re not sure what a wassail involves, the almost always suspect Wikipedia actually nails this one:

Wassailing is the practice of going door-to-door singing Christmas carols until paid to go away and leave the occupants in peace.

Nothing epitomizes the holiday spirit quite like roving bands of musical extortionists, does it? Today’s offering, a stocking stuffer for my brother Tony, is pretty much all about how two-over-three rhythms sound somewhat inebriated to my ear.

Guerrieri: The Wassaile (PDF, 104 KB; curious-sounding MIDI here)

Stay tuned—a new wassail every day this week!

Update (12/21): the rest—2, 3, 4, 5.

It’s beginning to look a lot


Guerrieri: O Bethlehem (2003), SATB chorus (PDF, 175 KB)

Advent starts this Sunday, which, for the non-Christians out there, is when even the devout start counting the shopping days left until Christmas (NOTE: good-hearted joke which eight years of Catholic grade school qualifies me to make). In celebration, here’s a Christmas anthem I wrote a few years back (tinny-sounding piano MIDI here) which has yet to get a public hearing—every year, I pencil it in, and every year, we run out of rehearsal time and I substitute something easy out of the Oxford Carols for Choirs book. This year, we’re doing it whether it’s properly rehearsed or not.

The impetus for this piece was Guerrieri’s Rule of Sacred Text Exigesis: always look up passages in context, since they’re usually weirder than you’d think. (This rule only applies to traditional mainstream religions; Dianetics, for example, is pretty much exactly as weird as you’d think.) Given all the slots to fill up in a lessons and carols service, I make it my mission to include at least one that isn’t all cheese-curd-smooth John Rutter-esque warm fuzzies. (If you’d rather not encourage me, Benjamin Britten’s “The Oxen” also fits this bill nicely.)

By the way, for the month, that brings the current score to Daniel Wolf, 29, me, 1. There’s still fourteen hours left, though.

Four-in-hand



Four Preludes (2007) (PDF, 261 KB)

A handful of amuses-doigts for the new month. The last one originally had a literary-referential title that I thought was pretty clever, but I found myself getting annoyed that I couldn’t come up with names for the other three, so I just dropped the appellation. (Why not just leave only one piece titled, you ask? I dunno.) Anybody who can guess what it was wins a free beer the next time they’re in Boston.

Rewards that will be great somewhere


It’s Holy Week, the most important hebdomad in the Christian calendar. Since I’m a church musician, this means that my week has essentially been vacuumed up and pulverized into a fine, delicate powder. Music ministers may vary in piety and theological aptitude, but I’ll tell you this much: we all have an appreciation of Ordinary Time that far surpasses those in the pews. (Another church musician I know once referred to the day after Easter as “Good Monday.”)

I chalk this up as another occupational hazard—the fact that performing musicians don’t get to enjoy the experience the way audiences do. For example: if we wallow in the sadness of a sad piece, or the exultation of an exultant piece, it’s liable to distract us from the things we have to concentrate on in order to communicate that sadness or exultation to the listener. On the other hand, we get the intellectual and kinesthetic satisfaction of building the edifice, rather than just apprehending it. It’s more than a fair trade; but it means that we can’t share certain, crucial parts of the audience’s experience.

So like Christmas, I’ll have my Easter holiday sometime after everyone else’s is over. (I wonder if my synagogal counterparts have the same feelings about Passover or High Holy Days. “Why is this night different from every other night?” Because there’s no extra rehearsal.) Anyhow, to expiate my sin of blasphemous complaining, you can now download the rest of the Easter introit up there for free—for free—at the Choral Public Domain Library. It’s on its third go-round with my choir, and it’s unusual in that they actually like it. Wonders never cease.

Update: The CPDL link has gone dead, so here’s the score:

Guerrieri:
Easter-Day (2005) (PDF, 2 pages, 115 Kb)

Cakewalking Towards Gomorrah



Guerrieri: Three Utopian Rags (PDF, 620 Kb)
1. The Model Factory
2. The Old Phalanstery
3. The Fellow Traveler

One of my New Year’s resolutions (for 2006, that is—never let it be said that I don’t procrastinate vigorously and enthusiastically) was to have my composer website up and running. No website yet, but at least I have a domain, so here’s a bit of ragtime to get things started. (Thanks to Mark Meyer for forcing the issue and providing technical help.)

The Price Is Right


Looking for a choral introit, cheap? The rest of the above (representing the last of my Advent composing and arranging obligations) is now available for free—for free—at the Choral Public Domain Library.

I have a fair pile of choral music that’s accumulated over the past few years, and every so often, I’ll send it off to publishers here and there, just to see the season’s new rejection letters. My favorite is from one of the local concerns, who were kind enough to tell me that their refusal to publish my music “was in no way a reflection on the quality of [my] work.” Really? How are you guys making your decisions over there—running hamsters through mazes? Darts? Haruspicy? Anyway, their loss is your gain. (If anybody uses it, let me know how your choir likes it. My choir did so much moaning and groaning over my Lenten introit last year that I’m currently trying to squeeze my budget enough to commission a new one from Dennis Báthory-Kitsz. Not free—but still a steal.)