Category: Nature

Beauty, Experimental, Music, Nature, Symphony Orchestra

Maya Miro Johnson in Conversation with Christian Baldini

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On March 9, 2024, I will conduct a program featuring the world première of a new work by composer Maya Miro Johnson, Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major, and Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 at the Mondavi Center, UC Davis. Below is a conversation with Maya about her new piece.

Christian Baldini: Maya, welcome, I am delighted that you have composed “in the valley of the shadow” for the UC Davis Symphony Orchestra, and that you will be in California with us for its world première, as well as running the video which will be projected with the piece. In a nutshell, I know the main source of inspiration for this piece comes from radiology/MRI images of your own body. Please tell us about this piece, how did you approach writing it, and what are the main musical sources for it? Also: how would you say you relate content from visual images to music in your own compositions? (and how does the video you created relate to the music?) What would you like people to listen for in this piece?

Maya Miro Johnson: This piece, in the valley of the shadow, is about revolving. Inspired by the structured approach of radiology, I split the orchestra into 6 layers of distinct musical ideas (each one I arbitrarily assigned to “musculoskeletal, cardiovascular/lymphatic, neurological, connective tissue, internal organs, keratin” slices, just as a helpful metaphor). Those 6 discrete blocks of sound then “rotate” around the orchestra in 3 different views of the exact same sonic material: coronal (from above), saggital (silhouette), and frontal (what it sounds like). Every time the view switches on the musical layers, the instrumentation of the ideas changes. So, for example, the “musculo-skeletal” layer might start out in the flutes and end up in the basses, for example, while the “neurological” layer could move around the percussion and celeste. Sometimes all the layers are present, like at the purposefully cacophonous beginning of the piece, and the colors sort of melt into a brown or sepia as they mix so broadly. Sometimes, especially by the end, there is only one layer present, with the “camera” of the listener’s eye and ear simply panning through the same soundworld of one idea. Accordingly, the structure of the piece is about thinning out the layers from all to just one… stripping the body down more and more, past skin and bones, guts and blood, to something more clinical and deindividualized, to literal bands of light and shape. I hope the piece evokes these endless rotations: static, floating, and organic, just like the decontextualized radiological images projected in the cyclical and continuous video art accompanying the music.

I am areligious, but the title comes from the famous Psalm 23:4, “though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death…”. I thought about the idea of living in a valley, always running to avoid the constant movement of shadows across the ground, spending life trying to escape the touch of death. This literal rotation of the sun across the sky and thus the shadows across the floor made me think very clearly of the constantly moving human body and served as an apt metaphor for all aspects of the piece.

CB: Your musical language seems like that of an omnivore. You explore sounds, you incorporate noise seamlessly into your language. There seems to be inspiration and influences from both American and European composers from different aesthetics. How would you describe your musical language, and does it vary much from piece to piece?

MMJ: My work has changed a lot in the last few years as I’ve grown, but I think I’m very contextually-driven. My work begins with a concept, and my journey with a piece is based around figuring out how to successfully connect that driving statement to engaging and sculpted content, which can be quite diverse (from indie songwriting to composed theater/performance art to intricate instrumental gestures to hardcore electronic noise music, maybe all in the same piece!). Right now, my work thematically orients around cyborgs and the idea of synthesis as using technology to be a prosthetic part of the body/ecosystem of a piece. I’m really interested in the politics of bodies (and how we treat/conceptualize embodiment) as metaphors.

CB: Tell me about your musical training. How did it all start? You are a fabulous performer on a few instruments, you compose and you conduct. What is ultimately the ideal “job” for you? What would you like to be doing in 10, or 20 years?

MMJ: Well, originally, I thought I might pursue contemporary dance professionally, but I had too many injuries (thanks, Hypermobile Spectrum Disorder!) and realized that would not be possible. I had always been interested in the choreography and semiotics of physical movement and proprioception in playing acoustic instruments. This interest sparked a questioning of how the conducting language might be related to dance. So, I started really practicing violin seriously and joined a youth orchestra, where I attended workshops for a Young Composers Project, led by the incredible Devin Maxwell, on a total lark. Devin was the first person who made me realize music is actively made in a process that involves struggle and failure, not just “taking dictation from God”, as the trope goes.  I realized I was “allowed” to write music too, and the rest is history! From there, I started studying conducting, violin, and composition with mentors who were enormously generous with their time. For college, I ended up at Curtis, where I’ve trained for my undergraduate degree in Music Composition for the past 5 years, primarily with Steve Mackey, Amy Beth Kirsten, David Ludwig, Nick DiBerardino, and Jonathan Bailey Holland. I’ve also worked privately with Chaya Czernowin at Harvard, who has been an invaluable mentor for me as well.

I imagine the best career for me would be grounded in exploring and reinvigorating The Practice (TM) by teaching, while still actively making work with collaborators all over the world in many different genres and settings. Yes, of course, I will always love writing (and directing) orchestra music, but I think my creativity most thrives in settings where I’m deeply involved in a risky experiment of a performance. I see myself exhibiting in museums, creating pieces in theaters, as well as presenting in concert halls. I hope to keep my performing life going as long as my body holds up!

CB: What are some challenges you’ve encountered as an artist, and as a human being (we can totally talk about health issues if you wish, or something else)?

MMJ: My biggest flaw as a person is being hyperfunctional. I’ve just been diagnosed with a genetic disorder that explains symptoms and comorbidities I’ve had for years, ranging from minor to life-threatening. Coming into my own as a hidden-disabled woman who also identifies as Jewish and queer has been a really difficult mental transition, perhaps even more difficult than the actual physical experiences of abuse and pain. I mask really well – too well – so I have this expectation to be hyperactive to “make up” for the ways that this identity’s experience disables me. I had normalized pain to the extent that I was able to work around it at really high levels before it worsened – I now find it really difficult to meter the pressure on me to return to that extreme and unhealthy level of production. Since I come from a lower-middle class background, I also tend to overcommit to unreasonable timeframes for fear of losing work, which can cause my body to crash, since it never gets a break. This can sometimes make my working sessions stressful and frenetic, which might negatively impact my writing. Things like this happen to everyone all the time, but I really admire and am impressed by people who can keep making and creating while also asserting their dignity by establishing boundaries of care and being confident in their (dis)abilities.

CB: Tell us about your graduation recital at Curtis, which took place very recently on January 30, 2024. What would you like people to take away from these kinds of performances?

MMJ: I wanted to showcase the full spectrum of the work I’ve pursued over the last five years at Curtis. It was also only my third performance in the legendary Field Concert Hall, because of pandemic disruptions and decisions the school made about that space, so it was also about finally making myself feel like I belonged there and owned that stage just as much as anyone else. I showcased a short film that’s a scene from a new opera-theater project with a close friend, Christina Herresthal; a world premiere of a percussion-theater work for Diego Alfonso; a new arrangement of my player piano concerto for live soloist, Katelyn Bouska; a string trio improvisation in which I played violin alongside my partner, Nico Hernandez, a bassist, and a dear friend, Sepehr Pirasteh, who plays Persian classical music on kamancheh; a large ensemble piece I conducted that was originally premiered in Paris a few years ago; and a new and very quirky arrangement of Laurie Anderson’s O Superman with good friends. As you can see, another big theme of the concert was celebrating all of the amazing people I’ve had the privilege of connecting with!

All in all, there were 20+ folks involved in the performance, and they represented over 10 countries and 9 US states. It felt amazing to be so supported by so many different people! The amazing Drew Schlegel also deserves a shoutout as the technical producer of the entire concert.

In terms of takeaway, I wanted there to be something for everyone on this concert, and I’m pretty sure I achieved that based on the amazing and kind feedback I’ve received! Yay!

CB: Lastly, what is your advice for young musicians? How do we prepare ourselves to deal with adversity, frustration, failure, as opposed to a curated Instagram looking life which is seemingly completely perfect?

MMJ: I don’t know if I’m in any position to be giving out advice! But, since you asked… honestly, just from my perspective, it seems to me that the best musicians are not those who are the most intensely expert in their craft – instead, I think they are those who are widely and genuinely interested beyond their craft. Having gone to conservatory, I’ve experienced how limiting a narrow focus from a very young age (I’ve been working professionally as a composer since I was 16) can be on one’s musicianship. Finding the right balance of integrity as a well-trained musician and curiosity as a well-educated artist has been the most important thing for me. It’s not for everyone – but exploring tangential arts, humanities, and sciences can be really critical.

CB: Thank you for your time, Maya, and for writing your wonderful music for our orchestra. I look forward to sharing it with our musicians and our audience!

MMJ: Thank you for this wonderful opportunity, Christian.  I’m so excited to work with the members of this impressively accomplished student orchestra! My hope is that they will be just challenged enough to really enjoy the process of learning this piece alongside some other great repertoire.

Between American and European debuts with the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra and Ensemble Intercontemporain in 2019 and 2022, respectively, Maya Miro Johnson (b. 2001)– a composer, conductor, instrumentalist, and interdisciplinary artist who considers her work experimental philosophy not constrained to logic and reason — has created works for violin/prerecorded Gaga class (Johnny Gandelsman of Brooklyn Rider and the Silk Road Ensemble); ensemble/shoes/silent film/bartered objects (loadbang); soprano/ensemble/radios (Toby Thatcher’s Zeitgeist, finalist in Beth Morrison Projects’ 2021 Next Gen Competition and winner of both Schuman and Surinach Prizes in the 2020 BMI Student Composer Awards in a historical first); electroacoustic metainstrument (with Mekhi Gladden & Drew Schlegel); chamber group/game show host (Sarasota Festival); and more…

Her work has also been featured on numerous recent and upcoming albums, including HOCKET’s #What2020LooksLike, Johnny Gandelsman’s acclaimed This Is America, Inna Faliks’ The Master and Margarita Project, Elena Cholakova’s upcoming CD of new piano music by female composers,  and the Minnesota Orchestra’s Mahler: Symphony No. 8 with Osmo Vänskä and BIS.

Currently in her fifth year of undergraduate studies at the Curtis Institute of Music, where her primary teachers have been Nick DiBerardino, Jonathan Bailey Holland, Amy Beth Kirsten, David Serkin Ludwig, and Steve Mackey. She has also studied privately with Chaya Czernowin at Harvard, with Missy Mazzoli and Kristin Kuster through Luna Composition Lab, and in high school with composer-percussionist-producer Devin Maxwell, her first mentor.  As a conductor, she has received instruction from Vänskä, Marin Alsop, Robert Spano, Lina Gonzalez-Granados, Hugh Wolff, James Ross, Miguel Harth-Bedoya, Conner Gray Covington, and Cristian Măcelaru, among others. 

Recent work includes bruises; yellow, green, and purple, a concerto for Spirio | r player piano, video, and orchestra; in the valley of the shadow for the UC Davis Symphony Orchestra; Strange Father! for Xavier University Choir (as part of the Cincinnati May Festival in partnership with the Cincinnati Symphony); White Coat Syndrome for Mexican percussionist Diego Alfonso Jiménez; and a short experimental opera film as a study for a larger work titled Patience with Norwegian/Swedish soprano Christina Herresthal. In February of 2024, Dance Suite had its premiere by Johnny Gandelsman at Dartmouth’s Hopkins Center for Performing Arts. This year, she will also premiere a new violin concerto for Emma Meinrenken, a new work for the Penn Memory Center with Micah Gleason and Isza Wu, a site-specific commission on the Colorado River for the Moab Music Festival, a Yiddish art song in response to Schubert for Evan Gray, and an a short ballet for the Rock School of Dance, choreographed by Robert Weiss. Maya is slated to be a Composition Fellow at the Tanglewood Music Center in summer of 2024, studying with Osvaldo Golijov, George Lewis, Tania León, Steven Mackey, Joan Tower, and Michael Gandolfi.

She formed the performance art duo ~ [pronounced two] with Sarrah Bushara in 2020 and is published in the BabelScores Catalog, an online library based in Paris. Her favorite song is Rock’n’Roll Suicide by David Bowie, and in her pain-free spare time she studies Gaga, a movement language by Israeli choreographer Ohad Naharin.

Symbols she uses to represent her identity are the sunflower, the zebra, the bee, the שׂ, and any shade of purple.

~~~

Main Research Interests:

  • cyborgization
    • the construction and use of electroacoustic metainstruments
    • AI and the new futurism; grappling with apocalypse culture
    • (dis)ability and technology within humanity
  • embodiment and (body)(politics)
    • diverse experiences of alienation & viscerality in the human body projected onto societal bodies
    • Gaga movement language applications to instrumental playing
    • female/femme rage, pain, and bodily trauma
    • hereditary ghosts and epigenetic storytelling
  • interdisciplinary craft
    • expanding the tradition of composed theater and building on the performance art lineage of Fluxus
    • developing an artistic interlingua for collaborating and collating disciplines
    • developing a social networking platform for artists and scientists/researchers with similar interests to cross-pollinate whom they can reach with their work
    • auteurism and the intersection of the experimental with the populist
Beauty, Buenos Aires, California, Christian Baldini, composer, Compositor, Concert Hall, Concerto, Nature, Soloist, violin

Chase Spruill in Conversation with Christian Baldini

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On June 3, 2023, I will have the pleasure of collaborating with the wonderful violinist Chase Spruill as our soloist in Philip Glass’ Violin Concerto No. 1 with the UC Davis Symphony Orchestra, at the Mondavi Center. Below is a conversation we had with Chase regarding this piece, and more:

Christian Baldini: Dear Chase, what a thrill it is to feature you as our soloist for the 1st Glass Concerto. You have been a regular collaborator of his for a long time, including your 2021 recording on his label (available here). Tell me, how did your relationship and collaboration with Philip Glass start?

Chase Spruill:  I’m so happy that this is something we’re doing together– thanks for having me!  I always tell people my relationship to Philip Glass began way before I ever met Philip Glass.  As a kid, I was a nut about horror movies–I watched almost anything and everything I could get my hands on.  One of those was the movie CANDYMAN based on a short story from Clive Barker.  And I was pretty used to the formula for what horror looked like on screen back then.  But Candyman came along, and you have this slow burn of a movie taking place in the former Cabrini Green area of Chicago where people are talking about gang violence, drugs, trying to raise kids out of that kind of a life situation, and in the background of it all, a mysterious entity known as The Candyman who lurks behind the violence.  And the music is some of the most sublime I’d ever heard in film, using piano, pipe organ and chorus just singing syllables.  I just didn’t know what in the world could be happening.  It didn’t look like or sound like anything else I’d seen up to that point.  And I’d always stay ’til the very final credit rolled, and if it came on again, I’d watch it again.  This was all happening at the time where I was just starting to take violin seriously, so I never had a chance.  I was hooked.  I met and started working with the director of the Philip Glass Ensemble Michael Riesman in 2014, met Philip face-to-face in 2015, and met my friend Richard Guerin who helps run Philip’s record label in 2016 for the first recording I ever did for them.  I love watching Team Philip Glass in orbit.  I just sit back in amazement at all of it.

CB: Tell us about Glass’ First Violin Concerto. What should people listen for? What is very special to you about it?

CS:  Philip had written so much music up to this point, but this was the piece that was solely a piece for the concert stage that really took off.  He wanted to write something that his Father would enjoy, and his Dad was a big appreciator of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in E minor, so sometimes Philip will say this piece is inspired by it, but when you’re listening to it, I’m not sure how much one really hears that inspiration.  It’s so clearly his language in the form of a Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, but it’s not really a virtuoso showpiece in the way we might think of violin concertos in the past two centuries.  I read somewhere that someone said something along the lines of (I’m paraphrasing) “It’s a Concerto for the whole orchestra where the violin peaks out as the top, overarching voice.”  That’s what is ultimately so special to me about it.  I love Teams and being part of Teams, and I love when music is effortful and group work ethic is high, so a piece where everyone is committed 100% to the language of the piece itself is right up my alley.

CB: What were your first steps with music? How did it all start? Did you ever imagine you’d be so successful? (I know, successful is a very ungrateful word, and how does one even define success?)

CS:  I started playing violin in public school.  It was kind of a simple thing, really.  I’d always enjoyed music and musical sounds.  The opportunity to be able and try it came up in 5th grade and violin was ultimately what I chose.  A year later though, I was pretty seriously hurt during the school day during a basketball game with an injury that left me bedridden, wheelchair-bound and in-and-out of surgeries and rehab for two years.  I was in-and-out of school and missed a lot of activities, but the thing that I had to keep me company outside of my family was my violin and movies/television, so I practiced a lot.  I’d record myself playing one violin part of a duet and then play the tape back and play the other violin part live, or sit with the end-credit music of movies and try to figure out all the notes.  And these are all things I kind of still do today, if you catch me in my private moments!  I don’t necessarily lead an exciting life.  Thank you and thanks to anyone who might say that I’m successful, because that sure is nice of anyone to say, but I don’t know that I necessarily myself feel that way.  I work as hard as I can and pursue things that interest me, but I’m still that kid who likes musical sounds and gets excited about a good movie score and wants to learn how to play those notes!

CB: You have worked closely with many composers, including Michael Nyman. Tell us about these collaborations. What is important to you about them? What are some of your favorite memories from them?

CS:  Anybody who knows me has probably heard me make the joke by saying I operate off a limited skill set because I really love Mozart, Glass and Nyman (maybe a Therapist could help me tease out why in the future, or if there’s a connection!), but what I’m really trying to say is I’m profoundly attached to specific ideas in music, and I want to intensively pursue my understanding of those ideas, and have an authentic love of those ideas so much so that maybe people will let me share this music with them.  I obviously can’t work with Mozart, so to be able to hear Philip Glass talk about a score or an idea, or to watch Michael Nyman tease some musical construction he’s interesting in composing (and, in some cases, recomposing), it builds this sense of confidence about musical process and offers me a lot of reminders about the ways in which music and music-making can be collaborative, and how the page is just the start.  The page is an intention–a really great first step.  The composer depends on and is interested in the performer bringing the other part of the human element to music.  These composers I work with are masters of “Yes, And!”  They rarely tell me No, but they also trust that my interest in what they’re doing is rooted in genuine curiosity about their language and in what they’re trying for.  One of my favorite memories was working with the composer Brian Reitzell in his soundtrack for the NBC television series Hannibal where he’d experimented with stretching out and synthesizing Bach’s Aria da Capo for a particularly devastating and bloody moment in the season two finale.  I told him,” You know, this particular sound you’re making is so close to the human voice.  I could totally hear a Solo Violin for this overarching line.”  It was the quickest Yes I’d ever gotten, and we worked on it and he goes,” That’s devastating!  I love it!” and we kept it, even though it wasn’t the original intention for the piece.  It didn’t detract anything from his original intention, but I’m happy he felt it elevated it emotionally.  That’s what I like!  It’s the best when musical collaboration is like being a kid playing in a sandbox with a really good friend near you.  You just work to see what you can build together.  You’re never trying to knock anything down.

CB: What are some of your dreams, goals, future and upcoming projects that you are very excited about?

CS:  My friend Richard Guerin had the idea for me to form a String Quartet called CS4 (and I always say “I didn’t name it, he did!”), but it’s a terrific opportunity to work with different kinds of friends in music.  So much of what I’ve done to this point has been solo, or violin and piano, but I’d been interested for a while to expand some of my own aesthetic and rhythmic interests in music into the world of chamber music.  I’m very excited we’re releasing our first recording this year, and this summer, CS4 will have its stage debut at ArtPark in Lewiston, NY near what I understand are your former stomping grounds in Buffalo, NY!  We’re giving the U.S. Premiere of Philip Glass’ String Quartet no.9 (“King Lear”) which was originally commissioned for Tana Quartet which gave the World Premiere, but I’m really over the moon about the opportunity to present it throughout North America.  To me, it’s such an interesting dramatic departure from his other string quartets and very surprising.  It sounds like a different musical period for him in a lot of ways.

CB: That sounds absolutely wonderful, and I look forward to listening to that new recording of yours. Once again, thank you for all the beautiful music dear Chase. We are delighted that you are our soloist this week!

CS:  It’s a real treat to have the chance to work with you in this capacity.  I’m really happy we’re doing this!  Thank you, Maestro!

Violinist Chase Spruill has gained an international reputation as a performer of contemporary music, interpreting minimalist masters such as Philip Glass, Michael Nyman and Henryk Gorecki. In 2020, BBC Music Magazine hailed his debut solo album of the music of British composer Michael Nyman, citing that “Spruill plays with great spirit . . . and a great sense of presence” and calling him, “an engaging and convincing advocate.” This same year, Capital Public Radio called him, “a breath-taking performer” with MusicWeb International highlighting that “Spruill plays with fire and yet sensitivity . . . and with absolutely secure rhythmic foundations.” He was a core faculty member with the nationally celebrated not-for-profit organization Community MusicWorks in Providence, RI, from 2012 to 2017, as well as a visiting professor of violin and orchestral studies at Wheaton College in from 2015 to 2017. Dedicated to exploring potential intersections between music and social justice, Spruill returned to his hometown in Vacaville to develop and run the music program at the new school Sierra Vista K–8 where he remains on faculty. He’s collaborated with other notable artists such as Kronos Quartet, composer/electric guitarist Steven Mackey (a UC Davis music alum ‘78), and BAFTA-nominated composer Brian Reitzell, releasing music from the critically acclaimed television series Hannibal. His recordings appear on the Philip Glass record label Orange Mountain Music and on Supertrain Records. Since 2019, Spruill has served as the concertmaster of the Camellia Symphony Orchestra in Sacramento, California.

Concert Hall, Dance, Experimental, folklore, Music, Nature, Symphony Orchestra, Uncategorized

Composer Profile: Daniel Godsil in Conversation with Christian Baldini

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Christian Baldini: Daniel, congratulations on having your work Cathedral Grove selected to be performed by the UC Davis Symphony Orchestra at our upcoming concert on June 1, as part of the UCDSO Composition Award/Readings. Tell us about your piece, its title, its genesis, and anything else that you’d like to add.

Daniel Godsil: Thank you, Christian! It’s an honor to have been chosen for this, and to get the opportunity to work with you and the UC Davis Symphony!

For me, an orchestra is a very special thing: I love the beautiful concert halls, I love the rituals, I love the great masterworks that have been written for it. I especially love how so many people assemble together, both onstage and off, to present and hear this music. As I was deciding what to do with this piece, I thought about how much an orchestra, and all its accompanying social structure, is similar to “America’s Best Idea”: its national parks. We take time out of our busy days to go experience something out of the ordinary; we’ve decided as a culture how much certain extraordinary places mean to us, and how important it is to preserve them for future generations. The Muir Woods–of which the “Cathedral Grove” is a part– is one such place for me. And there’s immediate beauty, yes, but these ancient trees have been around long before us and will hopefully still be there long after we’re gone: this evokes a very sublime feeling. John Steinbeck said in his book Travels With Charley that “No one has ever successfully painted or photographed a redwood tree;” this piece is my humble attempt to, instead, make a painting in sound. I tried to capture some of that sublime feeling, and also vitality, majesty, tenderness, silence, light or color filtering through the tops of trees, etc.  

CB: What do you try to achieve with every new piece that you write? What are your main goals?

DG: After finishing my undergraduate work in composition, I spent a long time working as a composer for film and other visual media. When I returned to composing art music, it took me a long time to come to terms with why I was doing it; it didn’t feel like there was a tangible end product like a movie or a video game. What has really helped me is the idea of making music as a community. With so much music out there nowadays, I think it’s important to cultivate music groups or communities–people that you work with, live with, study with, meet at a festival, have coffee with. I’m always most excited to hear music that my friends make or perform. I try as much as I can to write music that will be appropriate for the performer or event I’m composing for, and I love collaborating with performers while I compose. Hopefully, this all helps to communicate with the audience, too.

CB: You’ve now lived in California for quite a few years. Has being a UC Davis graduate student influenced you much professionally and/or personally, and if so, in which ways?

DG: California is a very special place for me: for one, my wife Sara grew up here, and has deep ties to the Bay Area, and her family lives here. And now, my daughter Betsy (who is already 18 months old!) was born here. I grew up in Illinois, in the hometown of poet Carl Sandburg. Illinois has its own kind of beauty, but I have to admit that it’s nothing quite like what I experience in California on a daily basis. A lot of this comes out in my recent music, too. I’ve been influenced profoundly by the natural beauty of my new home state. As an added bonus, the music department at UC Davis is fantastic! We grad students get to compose for and collaborate with world-class performers, and study with musicians and scholars at the tops of their field. What more could you ask for? I’ve also become a very avid cyclist, and I absolutely love that I can bicycle all year round in California. Living in Davis has taught me that time on the bike is almost as important as studying or composing!

CB: Is there anything that you’d like to see change in the usual concert platform, or in the way that symphony concerts are presented?

DG: As I mentioned earlier, I’m someone who really loves the modern orchestra and how it’s presented now. Even though it may seem stuffy, there’s a reverence built into the ritual that I think should be preserved. Just like you wouldn’t go into the Muir Woods with a boombox (hopefully), there’s a level of respect that goes with an orchestral performance. That said, I really think that orchestras need to have a significant “laboratory” component, where new music is given equal standing with established repertoire. When you go to a good museum, the contemporary works aren’t presented in some back room…they’re in a fantastic, new, climate-controlled space, right next door to the masterworks of the past. I’m not a fan of having new orchestral works presented as filler, or blamed for lost ticket sales. The audiences should be given more credit! Look at what the Gustavo Dudamel and the LA Phil are doing, for instance, and thriving, at that! Championing new music should be a major part of preserving our beautiful orchestral tradition; like the slogan says for the American Composers Forum, “all music was once new.” And by taking chances on new local music! I love going to the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento, for instance: they have a great collection of local California art, and it’s fantastically diverse. I love it when orchestras do the same kind of thing, it strengthens community bonds very simply and effectively.

CB: What would be your advice for anyone trying to become a composer? (and/or for anyone applying for graduate school in composition)?

DG: Again, I think it’s really important to cultivate musical community. If you’re not a skilled instrumentalist or performer, start by working on that! Get out and start playing music with other people. Write something for a cellist friend, for instance, and see what works. You can learn so much more in one rehearsal than by reading books for that same amount of time. That’s not to say that reading or studying is a bad thing: it’s important to learn your craft through whatever means possible, and doubly important if you want to pursue composition at the graduate level. But I think it’s good to frame everything by actually doing music.

CB: Thank you for your time, Daniel, we look forward to performing your piece and sharing it with our audience soon!

DG: Thank you, Christian, I’m really excited to work with you and the orchestra, and I hope people who hear it will let me know what they think!

 

 

Godsil_headshot

Daniel Godsil‘s music, which has been described by the San Francisco Classical Voice as having an “intense dramatic narrative”, draws from such eclectic influences as rock and heavy metal, science-fiction, and Brutalist architecture.

Winner of the 2017 Earplay Donald Aird Composition Competition (for his quartet Aeropittura), Godsil’s music has been played by Ensemble Dal Niente, Talujon Percussion, the Lydian String Quartet, the Empyrean Ensemble, the Metropolitan Orchestra of Saint Louis, the University Symphony Orchestra at California State University, Fullerton, the Knox-Galesburg Symphony, the Daedalus String Quartet, and the Nova Singers, among many others. Recent film scores include the PBS documentary Boxcar People, Man Ray’s 1926 silent film Emak-Bakia and the feature film H.G. Welles’ The First Men In The Moon. Godsil was a finalist in the 2018 Lake George Music Festival chamber composition competition, the 2018 Reno Pops Orchestra competition, as well as the 2014 & 2018 Red Note New Music Festival Composition Competitions. His choral works are published by Alliance Music Publishing and NoteNova Publishing.

Born and raised in central Illinois, Godsil (b.1982) is currently pursuing his PhD. in Composition and Theory at the University of California, Davis, studying with Mika Pelo, Laurie San Martin, and Sam Nichols. He holds an MFA in Music Composition from the Vermont College of Fine Arts, where he studied with John Fitz Rogers, John Mallia, and Jonathan Bailey Holland. He also holds a BM in Music Composition from Webster University.

Godsil was selected to participate in the 2017 Summer Institute for Contemporary Performance Practice (SICPP) in Boston, where he had master classes with composers Nicholas Vines and Georg Friedrich Haas.

Godsil has also been active as an educator, conductor, and performer in the central Illinois area, Knox College, Monmouth College, and Carl Sandburg College. At Knox College, he directed the New Music Ensemble, Wind Ensemble, Chamber Ensemble, and Men’s Chorus. He has also held posts as choral accompanist and collaborative pianist, and served as Music Director and Organist at Grace Episcopal Church in Galesburg, IL.