Hi everyone.
I want to ask you something.
Are you a composer? Then how do you compose?
Are you not a composer? Then how do you think all the composers in the world compose?
If you have a few minutes to spare, I would like to ask you to leave your response in the comment section below.
I am very interested in knowing how you compose (or how you think composers compose) because every composer has her/his own way and each can be unique.
To be fair, I will share my composing method first.
First of all, I know that many of my composer and musician friends probably think that all I do, in order to compose, is to drink beer while watching Star Trek episodes on TV, and by end of the week I have a piece of music composed.
I am sorry to break the news, but that is not how it is done. Not even close (although this method helps when I am trying to come up with a title for a piece).
The following is the typical compositional process I go through:
First, I think about a musical idea. I mean I really think about it—melodic idea, rhythmic idea, instrumentation, chord progression, harmony, whatever.
It usually happens when I am driving, walking, and reading textbooks (therefore I usually do not remember what I read). I think about what to write whenever I have a chance to.
I have heard people (composers of course) saying, “we should compose everyday,” and I agree.
But I do not think we should spend hours pounding the keys on a piano, or wasting ink on staff paper everyday. “Thinking” itself is a very important part of composing. In fact, I would say that 1/3 of my composing time is used for just “thinking,” (and 2/3 for actual writing, editing, maybe rehearsing, and then fixing). I often have a stream of ideas bouncing around in my head. Sometimes it is easy, but some other times it is very difficult to isolate and construct the “good idea(s).” Once I think I have a good idea (or ideas), I let it sink in or float around my mind, and see if it sticks with me. If I, the composer, cannot remember what it was, it probably lacks character or power to stay with (or even reach) the audience. If people leave the concert without remembering even a part of the piece, it is not a good piece of music, in my opinion (although sometimes the ones that stick with you are not necessarily good ones). Therefore, I try to gage the “character” and “power” of the idea before I write it down. A Sort of screening, I guess.
Once I think I have a good (“strong” enough to pass the screening) idea or two to begin with, I start the actual writing part. I would say I use paper and the computer (Finale) equally for sketching to visualize what I have been hearing in my head, and, of course, to hear what it really sounds like. Even if it seemed (sounded) like a good idea in my head, I cannot know for sure if it really is good until I get to hear it out loud. I either try it on my guitar or Finale depending on my mood, and the nature of the piece I am going to write. I will play around with the idea for a while until I shape it in the way I really like, or as close as I can get to what I heard in my head originally. If the idea turns out not as good as I thought it would be, or I cannot develop anything out of it, I try to go back to the very beginning of the process, “The Thinking,” and try to come up with something better.
I suppose some of you may have been shocked to see the word guitar instead of piano.
I am aware that the most common belief, or stereotype, is that, “a real composer write with a piano (on staff paper), and the ones who do not should change their ways.” I often see that some of those who write using a piano push the idea on the ones who do not.
I respectfully disagree. Moreover, honestly, I would say, “who cares how it is done as long as it works.”
To me, the piano is, as a compositional tool, just a huge wooden box with a bunch of keys that make too much noise, and as a result I forget what it was I originally had in my mind. My lacking of piano skills does not help, but truthfully, I can visualize my music through guitar so much better, or should I say it comes out naturally like it is an extension of my body and mind. Melody, harmony, rhythm, and so on, I can grasp whatever musical idea I have so much better on guitar. Perhaps, it is the only way I can actually materialize my idea to its full potential as a form of music. It is most likely because I was a guitarist first and then became a composer.
Anyways, all I am saying is that the choice of instrument (as a compositional device) should be up to the composer. Marimba, harp, vibraphone, banjo, etc. – as long as it is a multiphonic instrument, one should be allowed to pick whatever s/he feels most natural with. One may argue that the piano can cover a wider range than guitar. Yes, that is true, but (1) I have a bass guitar that can cover the low range that guitar cannot, and (2) I do not like writing music that goes too high anymore because it hurts my ears. If you only know how to play the instruments that can play a note a time (without using an extended technique) such as flute, trumpet, saxophone, and so on, don’t worry, there are such things called notation programs like Finale, as I mentioned before. The program will play as many notes as you want at the same time.
There is so much more I can say about “compositional devices” but it would take up another blog or two, so I will leave it there and let’s have someone else tackle that subject.
So, after I am done with trying and sketching, I start notating the music on my computer by using Finale. At this point, I may or may not have a clear idea how every part of the piece sounds like, but if I succeeded this far, it is just a matter of time. I may change or add things as I go. If I am not sure about the change or new ideas, I try them on my guitar or play around with them on Finale; again it depends on my mood or the nature of the piece. This part of the process usually goes very fast. And I spend extended amounts of time for editing—notation, dynamics, articulations, margins, spaces, etc. One thing all the composers can agree is that this is a “never ending story.” You can fix one thing, then you find another. You can adjust something, then something else looks funny. You can bring the music into rehearsal, then you realize that the transposition was wrong or the notes are unplayable for the particular instrument. These are some examples of this never-ending editing process. At some point (usually it is called THE DEAD LINE) we have to call it quits and hope for the best. You can always revise your music later if you want to.
This is pretty much how I compose.
Whether it was something you expected to see or something completely off, I hope you enjoyed reading about my daily activities. And I also hope that you will be more accepting toward non-piano-using composers, especially the ones who use guitar, and the ones from Japan.
