Inside the composer’s studio
I had an interesting experience tonight. A famous composer invited me over to his house to play through a baritone saxophone piece that he’d been commissioned to write. Of course, I agreed to help out because how often does a famous composer ask for my assistance? When I arrived the score was there for me to play through—no dynamics or articulations. As I sight-read through the piece, the famous composer marked in my articulations and asked for my advice on how to make certain lines more idiomatic for the instrument. I thought that this was wonderful. There have certainly been times that I’d wished a composer had consulted me before sending a score along (i.e. the saxophone can’t play a low Ab below the staff). It was a bit of a laborious process but completely worth the effort.
As we worked through the piece, I showed the famous composer some things that the saxophone could do that he wasn’t aware of, like playing higher than the orchestration books say it can. He liked this and made several lines go higher. I played a slap-tongue for him, which he also liked. He then hastily composed a new section of the piece on the spot that incorporated the slap-tongue. The new section was actually pretty happening—kind of a call-and-response between the low register of the saxophone and the upper register.
However, when we finally got to the end of the piece, I realized that there was no end of the piece. The famous composer hadn’t quite finished it yet. So I sat there and played through the famous composer’s ideas, reading his shorthand and transposing at sight. It was kind of fun at first, but after four hours I felt quite drained. I was basically serving as a playback that was more real-sounding than a MIDI patch. I’m not upset—he paid me for my time, after all—but I sure didn’t think that I’d be that involved in the composition process. And the piece isn’t even for me!
In other news: You’ve got to feel George Hincapie’s pain. He got beat in the final sprint today by Tom Boonen at Paris-Roubaix, the most famous one-day race on the professional cycling calendar. Phil Liggett is the best call in sports.
