What you should not do, I think, is worry about the opinion of anyone beyond your friends. You shouldn’t worry about prestige. Prestige is the opinion of the rest of the world.

[…]

Prestige is like a powerful magnet that warps even your beliefs about what you enjoy. It causes you to work not on what you like, but what you’d like to like.

[…]

Prestige is just fossilized inspiration. If you do anything well enough, you’ll make it prestigious. Plenty of things we now consider prestigious were anything but at first. Jazz comes to mind—though almost any established art form would do. So just do what you like, and let prestige take care of itself.

Prestige is especially dangerous to the ambitious. If you want to make ambitious people waste their time on errands, the way to do it is to bait the hook with prestige. That’s the recipe for getting people to give talks, write forewords, serve on committees, be department heads, and so on. It might be a good rule simply to avoid any prestigious task. If it didn’t suck, they wouldn’t have had to make it prestigious.”

- Paul Graham (founder of Y Combinator)

“With books, kids get their first completely private experience with themselves. That’s why when they come to the kitchen table and parents say ‘Put that book away!’ they absolutely won’t. Because what they are actually doing is escaping from their parents.”

“Dictators are horrible, boring people.”"

“Economics is the fiction. Fiction is reality.”

“Do not believe those who try to persuade you that composition is only a cold exercise of the intellect. The only music capable of moving and touching us is that which flows from the depths of a composer’s soul when he is stirred by inspiration. There is no doubt that even the greatest musical geniuses have sometimes worked without inspiration. This guest does not always respond to the first invitation. We must always work, and a self-respecting artist must not fold his hands on the pretext that he is not in the mood. If we wait for the mood, without endeavouring to meet it half-way, we easily become indolent and apathetic. We must be patient, and believe that inspiration will come to those who can master their disinclination.” – from a letter to his patron Nadezhda von Meck on March 17 1878

Work hard, and you can actually practice being inspired.

Max Weber was an important figure in founding modern sociology. Here, he makes a revealing argument about how art is constituted, both socially and historically, quite differently from other fields.

“Scientific work is harnessed to the course of progress. In the realm of art, however, there is no such thing as progress in that sense. It is untrue that a work of art that is created in an age which has developed new techniques, such as the laws of perspective, is somehow superior in purely artistic terms to a work of art that is innocent of all such techniques and laws. At least, such a work of art is not inferior as long as it does justice to its own form and materials—in other words, if it selects and shapes its object in a way that is appropriate even without those laws and techniques. (emphasis mine) A work of art that truly achieves “fulfillment” will never be surpassed; it will never grow old. The individual can assess its significance for himself personally in different ways. But no one will ever be able to say that a work that achieves genuine “fulfillment” in an artistic sense has been “superseded” by another work that likewise achieves “fulfillment.” – Max Weber from Science as a Vocation

I’m in Norfolk, Connecticut at the storied Norfolk Chamber Music Festival, where I’m a fellow at the New Music Workshop directed by Mr. Bresnick. Norfolk is a pretty special place.
Countless important musicians travelled to its understated “Music Shed” concert hall in its early days on the private estate of the Stoeckel family to perform or premiere new works: Rachmaninov, Sibelius, Kreisler, Bruch, Vaughan Williams were all here. The entire estate was entrusted to Yale later in the century expressly for the purposes of starting a summer program for music and the arts, and a wonderful program it has become. Myself and five other very gifted composers have been rehearsing all week with equally talented pianists and percussionists to premiere 12 different new works that we’ve written. On top of that, the players are performing some other immensely challenging works by Bartok, James Wood, John Cage and Martin Bresnick. So it is completely exhausting but fun.

I’ll be premiering two brand new works this coming Saturday June 30 at 2pm, on a program with my friends and colleagues in the Music Shed. Party Lines for pianos and percussion takes off with a frantic  bluesey riff that is quickly transformed by all manner of chromatic possibilities. It is fast, challenging music, and the pianists are rocking out! My other piece, Ellipsis for marimbas and vibraphones, is the complete opposite. It begins and ends in near stasis, building slowly in long phrases that the percussionists get to decide the length of. This is breathing music. I’m absolutely thrilled to have been able to work with such committed, talented players on these works.

The entire concert will likely be streamed live on the website. Check http://music.yale.edu/norfolk/index.htm

Hunwicks writes, “At first glance, Patrick Murray is pretty much the antithesis of a choral music composer.” What, then, is the thesis of a choral music composer, at first glance?
Maybe I need to work on growing my flowing golden locks:

or lack thereof:

Wait, I figured it out! I forgot to wear my neck ruffles:

Actually, 3 out of 6 of these guys is named John, so maybe that’s the secret. At least my middle name is John, so I might have a chance at making it in this career. Anyone know where you can buy those ruffles in Toronto?

Rivers of Canada by Bliss Carman

O all the little rivers that run to Hudson’s Bay,
They call me and call me to follow them away.
Missinaibi, Abitibi, Little Current–where they run
Dancing and sparkling I see them in the sun.
I hear the brawling rapid, the thunder of the fall,
And when I think upon them I cannot stay at all.
At the far end of the carry, where the wilderness begins,
Set me down with my canoe-load–and forgiveness of my sins.
O all the mighty rivers beneath the Polar Star,
They call me and call me to follow them afar.

Peace and Athabasca and Coppermine and Slave,
And Yukon and Mackenzie–the highroads of the brave.

Saskatchewan, Assiniboine, the Bow and the Qu’Appelle,
And many a prairie river whose name is like a spell.

They rumor through the twilight at the edge of the unknown,
“There’s a message waiting for you, and a kingdom all your own.

“The wilderness shall feed you, her gleam shall be your guide.
Come out from desolations, our path of hope is wide.”

O all the headlong rivers that hurry to the West,
They call me and lure me with the joy of their unrest.

Columbia and Fraser and Bear and Kootenay,
I love their fearless reaches where winds untarnished play–

The rush of glacial water across the pebbly bar
To polished pools of azure where the hidden boulders are.

Just there, with heaven smiling, any morning I would be,
Where all the silver rivers go racing to the sea.

O well remembered rivers that sing of long ago,
Ajourneying through summer or dreaming under snow.

Among their meadow islands through placid days they glide,
And where the peaceful orchards are diked against the tide.

Tobique and Madawaska and shining Gaspereaux,
St. Croix and Nashwaak and St. John whose haunts I used to know.

And all the pleasant rivers that seek the Fundy foam,
They call me and call me to follow them home.

Ursula K. Le Guin, “Talking About Writing.” The Language of the Night, 188.

Intellectual discourse and the arts have never properly been part of the economy. You can’t profit off of them, they have always thrived and depended on state support, and societies which have provided this have become immeasurably richer for it. The CBC was founded to give voice to these principles and forge a national consciousness around them. However much they may reconfigured of late in pursuit of ratings or audiences, this is still the primary role they have to fulfill in this country, a role that should be all the more robustly supported and cultivated now. We’ll be collectively poorer as a nation without a public institution supporting national discourse for its own sake than without a few years of pensions. (Yes, please come and find me when I’m 67 and hold me accountable for this statement!)

Any arts or news that proudly purports to be part of the “free market” is not discourse. It is not motivated by the internally rigorous demands of its own discipline. It therefore can’t be progressive, to grow outward in the ways demanded solely by its content. No wonder the Conservatives dropped the word “progressive’ from their name so many years back. They can’t support it. Intellectual progress is scary and subversive.

But what’s worse: Lack of economic growth causes “stagnation,” but that’s nothing compared to what happens in a nation devoid of personal and spiritual growth. Public institutions are meant to place the latter ahead of the former, as it should be. Why, you might ask?

Because so much more is at stake on our growth as individuals and as a country than on the stock market. Once time has erased the traces of a civilization and its economy, what few remains are we left with? We are left with the philosophers and the artists, and their work is made all the more universal by the long passing of those years, transcending the borders of nations. Canada isn’t old enough yet to know what our cultural contribution to the roll of the centuries will be, but we need to invest now to have one at all. The hardest time to support the arts and free thinking is precisely the moment when they have the most to offer us.

I can honestly say that I haven’t been to church in MANY years.I’ve had a nagging feeling that I should, if even just to reconnect with a musical tradition that I feel a strong affinity for. I have nothing but the utmost admiration and wonder for religion and faith, but I haven’t made it my own yet. For a piece to really work, I believe, the composer must take a personal stance on what is at stake in the music. But the request for a piece of sacred music came first.

So I had to grapple with my genuine lack of knowledge about religion now. My first challenge was to find a text that simultaneously spoke to me and that I felt I had some degree of authority to interpret. Clergy devote their lives to Biblical exegesis; I wasn’t about to just traipse in and pluck out Bible verses on a whim. There is a long history of interpretation associated with these timeless texts that one must respect. My other rule with texts is that I don’t really like working with words that have a long history of being set to music. There are so many mass settings and psalms and magnificats and laudate this-or-thats, all of which are beautiful and I love and have no desire to compete with in the annals of music history. No, the text had to be something slightly obscure, but still evoke a sense of timelessness and reverence.

I found my solution in St. Gregory of Narek. Most famously set by Alfred Schnittke in his Concerto for Choir, Narek was a 10th century mystic from Armenia most famous for his Book of Lamentations, a set of 94 prayers of repentance and forgiveness written near the end of his life. Each one is intensely personal; Narek speaks of his flaws and sins with candour and honesty. He is literally pouring out his heart before God; indeed, each prayer begins with the invocation “Speaking with God from the depths of the heart.” The book was foundational to the development of Armenian language and literature, at one time the most widely circulated publication in that language. What struck me about Narek’s words was how human they were. While each prayer is an achingly poetic invocation of God’s glory, they are each also a snapshot of a man acutely aware of his shortcomings. Narek feels unworthy in the eyes of God yet persists in desiring those things we all long for: love, remembrance after death, peace with himself. His work is undeniably sacred, yet it is not so much about the ineffability of being sacred as the contradictions of being mortal.

When I sat down at the piano with the text of Prayer 88 from Book of Lamentations, music just seemed to pour out for parts of the text. That’s not to say it has all been that easy to write. Much of this work was arduously bashed out over the last two months. But it is always lovely to have that germinating experience where you think, just for once, it might be painless. It wasn’t for Narek. It wasn’t for me. It probably won’t be for the choir either because it’s a hard piece (but I hope it’s not as hard as my last choral work).

Here is the text, as abridged and rearranged by me for the piece.

Lord, accept these prayers and sighs of contrition,
As you inhale the scent of this sacrifice of words, king of heaven.
Bless and sanctify the letters of this book of lamentation,
And fix your seal upon it as a testament of truth.
May it stand before you forever,
may it echo in your ears,
May it be the water of my will
pouring forth the milk of my tears.
May it be spoken by mouths of your angels,
may it be preached to all peoples,
May it rise, as if alive and in person,
may it recount the sins I have confessed,
Though I shall die, a mortal,
may I live,
through the preservation of this book.

This book will cry out in my place,
with my voice, as if it were me,
It will reveal the unseen and display the shape of what is hidden,
May my burden be my broken soul and my deserted mind,
and may they tell of my sins.
This book will trumpet out my faults,
without break, without end, for all to hear,
This book will document those words
I hold most dear,
It will lament what I have done and
extol what has been lost,
So at the time of eternal life,
on the day of renewed splendour,
At the dawning of the spring,
the first spring light,
My soul might stir with your salvation,
with the hope held out in your inspired
Scriptures, may I bloom, become green and blossom,
sending shoots of spiritual goodness that will never dry out.

Amen.