Der Drübermensch, still shy of his seventh birthday, asked for
permission to play around with Finale, the music manuscripting software
I use. Naturally I jumped at the chance to let him compose, even
though I suspected his interest was on the level of "one more way to
have fun manipulating stuff on the computer screen," which is his most
favorite activity.
I now present to you the result of this burst of creativity, which he
entitled
Drew's First Piece. As you look through the score
(click on the image for the whole thing in pdf) you will no doubt
realize, as I did, that we are in the presence of a
once-in-a-generation musical genius.
You might think that
Der Drübermensch's artistic intent is
focused on creating a musical score as its own, self-contained
aesthetic artifact. The dismayingly unplayable notes would lead you to
think that. It's an artistic choice that is
not
exactly unprecedented, yet this example is noteworthy for the
courageous rigor of its application. The difficultly goes well beyond
the decision to give a high A to the tenor's first entrance in measure
four; by measure seven, he calls for three tenors to sing a cluster on
64th notes at the extreme upper end of their tessitura. I wonder if
Der
Drübermensch could find three tenors in the entire state of
Michigan willing to take on these parts.
It gets worse; by measure eleven, the tubas are also playing impossible
leaps, occurring on 64th notes, which are brutally difficult if we
assume a moderato tempo. (It would seem the 64th note is a signature
of the young genius' emerging style.) We haven't seen such boldness
in writing for this instrument since
Alex Ross' ground-breaking work.
Go back to the previous example: notice the "useless" rests in the
double bass part. Can we be so sure they have no function? Who is to
say what subtle difference the counting of those rests would have on a
live performance? Indeed, this is where I begin to suspect my son is
engaged in a game far subtler than we can imagine.
So what if
we are decades or centuries away from producing virtuosos capable of
playing this score? If
Der Drübermensch hears an ending of
great dramatic power, he's going to write an ending of great dramatic
power, and the tuba players can go suck eggs if they can't play it:
(Low brass players have a reputation for wussiness anyway, so we can
discount their whining.)
I am ready to conclude that this score reveals to us
the most
uncompromising artistic visionary in the history of the world. I
am deeply humbled to have fathered and trained this young maestro. It
is clear he has nothing more to learn from me or anyone else. I hereby
release him to the world. No need to thank me.
Labels: Composer, fun
Umie the Umlaut says, "ask your doctor about the Fredösphere!"
