Thursday, February 20, 2014

Music - As Seen Through the Eyes of a Musician Other Than Myself - a Fascinating Intra-Argumentation!

The other day I received a note from Ricardo Odriozola, the eminent Spanish violinist who teaches in Norway and performs and records  throughout Europe. He mentioned to me that he was looking at a composition I wrote for him recently, and was in the midst of examining the polyphony embedded in this work for unaccompanied violin, let alone analyzing my tonal component, which he termed as "complex in its simplicity."
"Complex in its simplicity" - well, after mulling over this statement, I felt that Odriozola really 'nailed' the issue of my harmonic vocabulary, in that  he sees the imagery of my tactics in moving from one tonal center to another in very brief "real" time in constancy ,which is the basis of my particular premise that the diatonic system will prevail in spite of the age of transition that has  surrounded it since Schoenberg.
The violinist (who has recorded a number of my works)and I have never intrinsically discussed the process of 'capillary action' I employ in dealing with tonal centers; however, in these words of his I am reminded of the level of knowledge that Odriozola possesses and his abilities to  'translate' the languages he is confronted by almost daily at this point in the ongoing saga we call Music.
Which brings to mind the question of:
What did the likes of Mozart and Beethoven, through their eyes, discern, in their early years when  a teacher  they both studied with;  a gentleman by the name of Haydn, anointed them with his music? What, at their dizzying level of imagery, did they take away from the works that Haydn must have asked them to pull apart and put together once again?
I think about this issue, from time to time; and try, as best as I can, to imagine what a genius sees in the same music I may be looking at.
I fully realize, of course, that from time to time, what one musician sees may surprise, let alone shock another musician, by way of the pejorative;  as, for instance, Tchaikowsky calling Brahms "that artless bastard."
At any rate;  for me, the pondering over this rather delicious issue will always be a source of a kind of ambivalent pleasure and some consternation, as the answer to this issue is, of course, unavailable.



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