Tina Davidson

Composer

Tina Davidson

Random Thoughts, #7

by

Notes from my Journal

July 28
A beautiful, clear, bright and cool day. The children sit on an animal swing with four chains in the park, swinging back and forth. The chains creak and scream, high and overlapping, a shrill cry.I am composing finally; “After two days of ranting and raving, mercy descended.”

August 4
I begin the saxophone concerto with earnestness. It is on my mind constantly. I listen, knowing both time and persistence are on my side.

Sometimes I have to hear all the old ways first, before I can steer clear to a new place. Always, a balance between movement and patience. If I move too soon, I run over myself. If I relax too much, there is nothing. I work and wait.

September 1
I focus on the solo, the “first person” of this piece. This is, in many ways, the first flight. Rupture – big glissando section. Out of the disorganization comes the voice. Out of sound come melody and energy. How do I give the saxophone space to improvise without boxing him in?

November 20
Today, the work on this piece discourages; I lose heart and go shopping for Christmas presents. I contemplate a movie. I eat gummy bears, drink coffee, and sigh over a new flannel nightgown. I snarl at smokers.November 22
In morning’s first light, all is not lost. Even my music has possibilities.

November 30
My piece is almost complete. I have a few weeks of orchestrating, and it will be done by first of the year. The last ten days have been a wonderful slide home. Once I was able to accept the flaws and disappointments of the piece, I started making progress.

Music with Saxophone by Tina Davidson

LULLABY
for solo & unspecified instrumentation (6-8)
Lullaby is the song we all sing to our children, amid the distant noise of the outside world, cradling and surrounding them with a protective love.
“a gorgeously gentle piece” (St. Louis Post-Dispatch)
https://open.spotify.com/track/77Nm1qrUp6RKBRWhti8z2S

TRANSPARENT VICTIMS
for soprano/alto saxophones & pre-recorded saxophones
 “Davidson has created accessible music of real substance.”  (Classical Insites)
https://open.spotify.com/track/4u13FNvMkWlx9AhLxU6mJJ     

\CEL”E*BRATE\
alto saxophone, bass clarinet, piano & percussion 
To commemorate, bless, carouse, ceremonialize, commend, dedicate, drink to, eulogize, feast, glorify, honor, jubilate, keep, laud, let loose, lionize, make merry, make whoopee.
https://soundcloud.com/tina-davidson-3/celebrate-for-alto-sax-b-clar-piano-percussion

 

Bleached Thread, Sister Thread

by

for string quartet

June 28

Cody, Wyoming, the first afternoon, is dark and overcast. At night, I cannot see the full moon. But today is blue and so bright; the mountains are clear and tremendous. As I walk, I am reminded of other spastel, in the gardenolitary walks and weeping landscapes – green, green, meadows and black grey skies.

The new work I am hearing is different. I feel its weight and am reluctant to take up the responsibility. Bleached Thread, Sister Thread, commissioned for the Mendelssohn Quartet, takes the title from one of my sister’s, Eva Davidson, poems. These are old issues; sister bonds, attachments, and delicate fine stuff – a sense of joy and release.

Gratitude reappears in my mind. I find it difficult to accept gifts without payment. So used to a bad turn, a broken heart, it is almost beyond my understanding to accept the gift of returned health without sacrifice. Pain has always defined me. Will gratitude now make me one of them? One of whom?

Opening one’s self to grace.

 July 15

I begin to hear.  Quietly, and with bursts of light, a song emerges out of rubbing – a soft shuddering

          what was gathered or what was learned;

          and now you and I will tell each other

          what we know, that to be distant

         is sometimes closer than to be near. (1)

September 16

The shape of the quartet keeps changing. In this piece, I am guided more by the material than the form. There is a dark black energy in my stomach. Despite the clear, calm weather, the days are unsure.

At first I was conflicted over the work moving a direction I had not planned. But when I viewed the construction with curiosity instead of tension, the work reveals itself. The energy of the music is fierce in its optimism, constantly moving forward and changing. I feel the animation of health restored, of a future fullness refreshed.

Yet, still, still – a disconnection. Despite the celebration, a fracture in my life shows itself. The piece ends in a deep sadness. I cannot control this; I only allow what is.

Excerpted from Let Your Heart Be Broken, Life and Music from a Classical Composer by Tina Davidson.  © Tina Davidson, 2022

(1) excerpt from Bleached Thread, Sister Thread, poem by Eva Davidson

In the Garden, pastel by Tina Davidson

 

 

 

 

 

Random Thoughts #5

by

Notes from my Journal

 April 6

I am in between a state of reluctance and anticipation. I can “hear” the new work better than I can understand it, something about mountains, fires, sexuality and the dark pounding of the heart.

March 31

“What is the relationship between artists and their work?” a friend asks.

I can only speak of my landscape – to economize my life so that I am available. Not as an act of abstinence or poverty, instead, of allowing. When my life is work centered, all else falls off. I am at the essence of my life. The choice is time, energy and clarity. The rest – family, friends, fun – falls into place naturally.

Being available is an act of love I give myself, for here is where my spirit lives. As I go out in my work, it is all me, and at the same time, not me. When my work connects with others, my face becomes many faces, both anonymous and personal, both unrecognizable and identifiable.

The risk of art is to be at the edge of selfishness, which seems to be vanity, but is not. Vanity keeps me separate and elevated from others. Art grovels in the same mud, but ascends.

For today, I ask what my work needs and thereby know how to live my life. Letting the non-essentials go, I keep the treasures. The rest flows from me like fall leaves tossed on the river stream, riding the current happily away from me. The love I put into my work is the same that pours into my life, family, and community. A source that renews itself continually.

October 9

The string quaMysterium, drawing, colored pencilrtet continues to fall into shape, and the work is exciting. The previous agony was pressure during the most vulnerable stages of composing, of gathering the raw material together, finding tiny bits of flesh, atoms or protoplasm. The stuff of creation is a delicate process, full of uncertainty and patience. It is a time when I am open to outside fears and pressures.

The first section is almost completely mapped out. The rhythm tears along, bumping into sounds that are both unexpected and comfortable. I spin through reams of material, yet it is all connected somehow; tense, pressured, chased, inescapable, and swept away. I stitch together the fabric of the piece carefully, paying great attention to the transitions. The directions surprise the ear, and are, somehow, just right. The new shape of the piece pleases me, and has released the music inside. Unbelievable.

Excerpted from Let Your Heart Be Broken, Life and Music from a Classical Composer by Tina Davidson.  © Tina Davidson, 2022

Drawings by Tina Davidson:  Orb #1, charcoal and water color, Mysterium, colored pencil

Listen:

 

 

 

What is My Business?

by

Katie fidgets at the piano, and looks blankly at the music. I touch her shoulder and put my pencil on the errant note. She settles down and with much stumbling and back tracking, plays the piece. We cheer together as I hand her a sheet of stickers. She pauses long, trying to decide which one pick. I know she is taking a much-needed break from focusing. Then we start up again.

Reading music or symbols, is such a difficult process – the eyes see, the mind decodes and sends a message to the fingers, the ear hears – all the tactile, auditory, sensory abilities working together – and if one those misfires, confusion is overwhelming.

Clearly, I should say something to Katie’s parents. Her child has some sort of learning difficulty. But when I ask obliquely about how she doing in school, her mother’s face freezes. I change the subject.

In truth, it is none of my business. I am not a trained professional, and do not know what is developmental, and what is more serious. Furthermore, parents have their own path and time-table of recognizing their child’s difficulty and dealing with it.

But mostly, I don’t want to forfeit the opportunity. I have a thirty-minute window each week to spend with Katie over a few years, perhaps even as long as a ten-year-span. How can I be effective with her, or any of my students?  What do they need from me?  How do I build a confidence in them as creative, problem-solving people?

Over time, I have learned to teach to the individual rather than the music. Each is like an intricate puzzle I have to solve. I am constantly finding new ways of bending my teaching to the particular child’s mind – testing and twisting my knowledge.

I separate the reading process from the playing process, giving them difficult, fun pieces to play where the note heads are converted to letters. Their note-reading books are graphically colorful, spacious books.

I point out that speed (so well rewarded in our society) is intrinsically of little value. A completed job well done, regardless of time, is a win. I catalog, articulate and trust their abilities, reminding them occasionally that we are working together on their weaker points. I encourage them to think of alternative solutions – there is rarely one approach to a problem.

Concert given by studentsMost importantly, I give them opportunities to experience and claim their own creativity. They are constantly composing music, either at home or in their lesson, notating it as they please. And several times a year, I gather them together in informal settings to perform and celebrate their efforts.

I talk less. Give them time to solve problems without jumping in with answers. Have rests.Do lots of stickers (even for my teenagers), and work on my own patience.

Patience, patience. The child will not be baked until their mid-20’s, sometimes older. I am in it for the long run. I value the children’s excitement rather than their abilities. And I put myself constantly be in a position to say yes. Yes, yes. Why not?

Listen!  Tremble for violin, cello and piano

 

 

Deep Listening

by

Pauline Oliveros and James Tenney

Pauline Oliveros playing the accordianA few days up at the Charles Ives Center for the Performing Arts gives me relief. I am in residence with musician, composer, and maverick Pauline Oliveros. “Hear, remember, and imagine,” she intones. You hear a sound, remember it, and then imagine it again. She uses words to form her music, bringing the performers into the process of creation. Her work begets community.

I am struck by music’s linear process, where duration is the great ingredient. Unlike visual art, music cannot be experienced all at once. Instead, it moves though time. As we listen, we construct the whole in our mind through memory. Like a transparent ghost, music moves our hearts with its lack of tangible substance.

∗∗∗∗

I heard a piece by composer Jim Tenney recently at a concert. Something interests me. HisComposer James Tenney piece is a voyage of technical manipulations involving tape delay and difference tones – those haunting resonances that appear when certain pitches rub against each other.

At first I am rapt. But, I cannot hold on, my mind disengages and falls into a dark quiet. After eight to ten minutes, the piece suddenly opens up, and I catch onto the piece again. How did I get here – where have I been? As if a white shirt, shown in meticulous technical detail, suddenly blossoms with blood, both a terrifying signal of death, and an affirmation of life.

The shape of his music reminds me of my own shape. While the content of our work is different, the linear shape and flow, moving from one point to (and through) another, is similar. He uses a one-theme-one-idea approach, where the starkness and persistence engages the listener. I am episodic, darting though material with single-minded purpose. His music is a straight line, mine moves in and over. He takes a fragment and expands it. I sew my fragments together, so one becomes another becomes one. His overall shape is like the stem of a flower, long and thin with a sudden bloom at the end. My shape is conical; the whole piece expands from a beginning point and opens up to an ecstasy. His epiphany is sharply beautiful in relief to his material. Mine is joyous and circular.

Excerpted from Let Your Heart Be Broken, Life and Music from a Classical Composer  by Tina Davidson.  © Tina Davidson, 2022

Listen: Wēpan for string quartet and piano, was written at the request of the Open End Ensemble. From the old English, wēpan means to weep, bewail, mourn over, or deplore.

I have written about Pauline Oliveros (1932-2016) before and I suspect I will write about her again. She is one of the great American composers, investigating new ways to focus attention on music including her concepts of “deep listening” and “sonic awareness.”

Jim Tenney (1935-2006), a pioneer of computer music, was interested in the possibilities offered by pure tuning. I met him in the mid-1980s and was drawn to him  as a fellow graduate from  Bennington College, and to his warmth, kindness and curiosity.