ÒThis makes it even harder for me to compose. It must sound odd: itÕs hard to compose because the audience understands your music.ÓÊ Ê Ê Ê
Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê ÑDSCH
Ê Ê Ê Ê I seldom elaborate in words on my compositions themselves, or at least not on the technicalities and form. And for good reason, you knowÑyouÕd be bored sick if I were to cover that all. ItÕs absolutely true, you know, that music is better appreciated when a creature understands how it works, so to speak, how it fits together. IÕve read the text writings of some other composers, and very, very many of them spend pages and pages describing often rather insignificant passages or chord sequences in terminology a laybeast couldnÕt have a chance to understand. I could do that, but then IÕd be tempted to in turn define all the musical terms IÕd surely use. And that would be a tangent of many, far too many pages. If you care so much about a certain chromatic scale in fifths in the thirtieth measure of the second movement of whatever piece, go and listen to it.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I also touch very little on the manner in which I compose. You know I work intensely, and most often at night, but what does either matter on the final product? How could someone tell whether or not something was written in fits or at once, sketched out or in full, black ink or purple, down the staff and across or vice versa? That would also be boring and useless to discuss. And if you still have some curiosity to that, you know, call it part of the mystery of the Creative Process. Probably when IÕm gone some biographer will talk to a creature who knew me well, and youÕll be able to read about it then. But thatÕs just another irrelevant here.
Ê Ê Ê Ê While what I just touched on stretches out to boring, so to speak, I do know, though, that IÕd be able to keep your attention for just as many pages if I were to explain the meaning behind my music. That is, the hidden significance, the reason. IÕm not going to do that, though, at least not more than I have already. There are some things that I just want to keep to myself, some pieces that would be less valuable to me if they were explained to everybeast else. I explained my quartet because I meant that much of it to make open sense;if you listen, you donÕt need an explanationÑitÕs as clear as a primer. But with other pieces, theyÕre a musical code only I know. Every composer has his mysteries, and those are mine. I used to be even more secretive than I am now; that was pounded into me by the mere atmosphere of Mtsensk. That placeÕs walls had eyes and ears, so to speak, and I still canÕt shake the feeling of their presence. What I tell you know, you know, is a big improvement on how I was immediately following this ordeal. But as it were, I had a difficult, pain-and-fear-streaked time trying to write a clear, explanatory piece for the Redwallers.
Ê Ê Ê Ê If you havenÕt heard it, you probably wonder how I managed that, that is, to write a piece that doesnÕt just tell a story but bust apart a military and political plan. IÕve mentioned repetitively how some creatures know nothing about music. Well, as you know, these creatures can still have their interpretations. But interpretation has its own sort of technicalities, exclusive to individuals but equipped with mutually influenceable similarities. And there was the other part of the difficulty in writing what I had to writeÑbroadcasting a message that hits the minds of most creatures with, of course, the correct message. Many pieces are meant to be taken in several different ways, but a set message has to be set firmly.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I did I good job in the endÑthat is, creatures understood me. You know that; itÕs why you know me. The interpretation worked, even without words. True, words would be the clearest route to comprehension, but you donÕt go around shouting your foeÕs battleplan to your friends while your foe is at the same hearing distance. The music explained itself well enough to both sides, you know. And the consequences sent me reeling. IÕve only been able to really appreciate that recently.
Ê Ê Ê Ê IÕm not a military creature; I know nearly nothing of the so-called Art of War. ThatÕs different than the Character of War. You canÕt help but be carried off and lost in the horrors of the Character, but the Art, so to speak, is something most have to study. True, there are naturals at strategy, one might say in the same manner that IÕm a natural at music. But IÕm not both, you know. I do know, however, that one has to establish the opposing sides in their campaign writeup before explaining anything else. That was the easy part, you know. I have vast amounts of material on the topic of Redwall. There were the song cycles IÕd written, there were the other songs IÕd heard bits of while visiting the abbey, and then there was the vast series of melodies from Broken-Sword Warrior. I finally decided to open this piece in the same manner as the opera, a part of the Mossflower scene-setting overture. To symbolize Redwall itself, I used a combination of themes for Warrior and Sword, themes used often and prominently in the opera, and therefore ones that were more likely remembered.
Ê Ê Ê Ê To pick which melody would represent Zlaya Trudnaya was also a rather obvious task, that is, I had no trouble in decision. I knew exactly what IÕd use for that purpose when I conceived the piece. The issue was in writing it down, in knowing that IÕd have to play it with Zlaya in the room. It was her interpretation which gave me that easy idea. I was fairly certain that somebeast had spread the news of ZlayaÕs reaction to Broken-Sword Warrior to Redwall. When Zlaya was angry, everybeast, I think, found out. And even without that knowledge, the wildcat empress theme sounds evil and oppressive. Not much ink is needed to draw parallels, so to speak. ThatÕs why it was a dangerous move. But when one weighs the danger to one against the danger to many, I was dispensable. As it were, I didnÕt really feel like I wanted to die anymore, you know, but I wasnÕt quite holding life in an iron grip, so to speak. And so immediately after the introduction of Redwall, I brought in Zlaya.
Ê Ê Ê Ê After the introductions, I had to show that Zlaya was coming to Redwall, but at the same time, I had to make it seem like a walk, not a marchÑa deceptively peaceful arrival. Ferocity was for later. Ferocity is easier to convey with a villain theme, though. Taking what limited time I could for consideration, I quoted a theme from the sometimes-banned SorgskyÕs works, one specifically meant as walking from one spot to the next. ItÕs a happy, sweet little tune, and I used it between a major-key rendition of the Zlaya theme and the melody without the chords for Redwall. As IÕd been informed of SorgskyÕs piece also being performed at Redwall, I figured the meaning would once again be clear.
Ê Ê Ê Ê To the point, I thought I was perhaps overusing my established themes, but it was also necessary to enforce meaning by sticking with the same ideas. Therefore, for the impending false-meaning talks between Zlaya and the Abbot of Redwall, I mimicked OfievÕs theme-and-variations conversation implications. The Ofiev piece I nearly quotedÑparaphrasing it, so to speakÑwasnÕt among the ones banned, then or now, and therefore was played often and widely. ItÕs a well known piece, and I made my reference obvious.
Ê Ê Ê Ê Underneath the conversation bit, toward the end, I built up crescendoing chords, the advance of the scores of Mtsensk soldiers from outside. Eventually I stopped the chatter, so to speak, the chords dominating and segueing into the fanfare for Mtsensk IÕd composed on my very first day in the fortress, before I knew about the ban, before I knew much about Redwall, before IÕd even conceived I might get in trouble. Certainly before I knew the full extent of ZlayaÕs evil. From the fanfare, I projected into the battle. I donÕt need to describe how I do battles again. Just recall the second movement of my quartet. ItÕs like that, if you havenÕt heard it, replacing the original solos from the quartet with ZlayaÕs and RedwallÕs themes. They get louder and softer in a push and shove, battling with no determined result.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I stopped writing, right there. I didnÕt know how to end the piece, how to leave the battle or finish it. If I were to show the Redwallers winning, that might convey the Redwallers as easily superior, and then they wouldnÕt worry so much. And then theyÕd be defeated by default. But I couldnÕt show Mtsensk winning, I couldnÕt because it was a very real threat, and yet also because I couldnÕt see it happening. Maybe I didnÕt let myself go there, I donÕt know, but I couldnÕt see it happening and ending that way. To show Mtsensk winning would move the piece from a warning to a threat, the worst thing that could happen just short of the piece not setting off any alerts. There, the biggest dilemma of the process, the hardest part of the piece. It was just too open-ended. Open-ended enough so thatÕs how I just left it. Open. No writing history before itÕs that. I wrote an overlap of the two main themes growing louder and louder, converging, then abruptly dropping off. A silence of two measures, then an echo of my signature: MSHK.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I realize that IÕve just done what I said would bore you, what I listed as pointless and said I wouldnÕt do. Funny how the chapter just went that way, you know, and IÕm sorry. But as it were, I did explain that way, and I think I had to. ThatÕs what you do when thereÕs no live example. Though on the other paw, I could have just told you what I meant; just like I could have brought a note to Redwall instead of a manuscript, expressing
Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê ÑDSCH
Ê Ê Ê Ê I seldom elaborate in words on my compositions themselves, or at least not on the technicalities and form. And for good reason, you knowÑyouÕd be bored sick if I were to cover that all. ItÕs absolutely true, you know, that music is better appreciated when a creature understands how it works, so to speak, how it fits together. IÕve read the text writings of some other composers, and very, very many of them spend pages and pages describing often rather insignificant passages or chord sequences in terminology a laybeast couldnÕt have a chance to understand. I could do that, but then IÕd be tempted to in turn define all the musical terms IÕd surely use. And that would be a tangent of many, far too many pages. If you care so much about a certain chromatic scale in fifths in the thirtieth measure of the second movement of whatever piece, go and listen to it.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I also touch very little on the manner in which I compose. You know I work intensely, and most often at night, but what does either matter on the final product? How could someone tell whether or not something was written in fits or at once, sketched out or in full, black ink or purple, down the staff and across or vice versa? That would also be boring and useless to discuss. And if you still have some curiosity to that, you know, call it part of the mystery of the Creative Process. Probably when IÕm gone some biographer will talk to a creature who knew me well, and youÕll be able to read about it then. But thatÕs just another irrelevant here.
Ê Ê Ê Ê While what I just touched on stretches out to boring, so to speak, I do know, though, that IÕd be able to keep your attention for just as many pages if I were to explain the meaning behind my music. That is, the hidden significance, the reason. IÕm not going to do that, though, at least not more than I have already. There are some things that I just want to keep to myself, some pieces that would be less valuable to me if they were explained to everybeast else. I explained my quartet because I meant that much of it to make open sense;if you listen, you donÕt need an explanationÑitÕs as clear as a primer. But with other pieces, theyÕre a musical code only I know. Every composer has his mysteries, and those are mine. I used to be even more secretive than I am now; that was pounded into me by the mere atmosphere of Mtsensk. That placeÕs walls had eyes and ears, so to speak, and I still canÕt shake the feeling of their presence. What I tell you know, you know, is a big improvement on how I was immediately following this ordeal. But as it were, I had a difficult, pain-and-fear-streaked time trying to write a clear, explanatory piece for the Redwallers.
Ê Ê Ê Ê If you havenÕt heard it, you probably wonder how I managed that, that is, to write a piece that doesnÕt just tell a story but bust apart a military and political plan. IÕve mentioned repetitively how some creatures know nothing about music. Well, as you know, these creatures can still have their interpretations. But interpretation has its own sort of technicalities, exclusive to individuals but equipped with mutually influenceable similarities. And there was the other part of the difficulty in writing what I had to writeÑbroadcasting a message that hits the minds of most creatures with, of course, the correct message. Many pieces are meant to be taken in several different ways, but a set message has to be set firmly.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I did I good job in the endÑthat is, creatures understood me. You know that; itÕs why you know me. The interpretation worked, even without words. True, words would be the clearest route to comprehension, but you donÕt go around shouting your foeÕs battleplan to your friends while your foe is at the same hearing distance. The music explained itself well enough to both sides, you know. And the consequences sent me reeling. IÕve only been able to really appreciate that recently.
Ê Ê Ê Ê IÕm not a military creature; I know nearly nothing of the so-called Art of War. ThatÕs different than the Character of War. You canÕt help but be carried off and lost in the horrors of the Character, but the Art, so to speak, is something most have to study. True, there are naturals at strategy, one might say in the same manner that IÕm a natural at music. But IÕm not both, you know. I do know, however, that one has to establish the opposing sides in their campaign writeup before explaining anything else. That was the easy part, you know. I have vast amounts of material on the topic of Redwall. There were the song cycles IÕd written, there were the other songs IÕd heard bits of while visiting the abbey, and then there was the vast series of melodies from Broken-Sword Warrior. I finally decided to open this piece in the same manner as the opera, a part of the Mossflower scene-setting overture. To symbolize Redwall itself, I used a combination of themes for Warrior and Sword, themes used often and prominently in the opera, and therefore ones that were more likely remembered.
Ê Ê Ê Ê To pick which melody would represent Zlaya Trudnaya was also a rather obvious task, that is, I had no trouble in decision. I knew exactly what IÕd use for that purpose when I conceived the piece. The issue was in writing it down, in knowing that IÕd have to play it with Zlaya in the room. It was her interpretation which gave me that easy idea. I was fairly certain that somebeast had spread the news of ZlayaÕs reaction to Broken-Sword Warrior to Redwall. When Zlaya was angry, everybeast, I think, found out. And even without that knowledge, the wildcat empress theme sounds evil and oppressive. Not much ink is needed to draw parallels, so to speak. ThatÕs why it was a dangerous move. But when one weighs the danger to one against the danger to many, I was dispensable. As it were, I didnÕt really feel like I wanted to die anymore, you know, but I wasnÕt quite holding life in an iron grip, so to speak. And so immediately after the introduction of Redwall, I brought in Zlaya.
Ê Ê Ê Ê After the introductions, I had to show that Zlaya was coming to Redwall, but at the same time, I had to make it seem like a walk, not a marchÑa deceptively peaceful arrival. Ferocity was for later. Ferocity is easier to convey with a villain theme, though. Taking what limited time I could for consideration, I quoted a theme from the sometimes-banned SorgskyÕs works, one specifically meant as walking from one spot to the next. ItÕs a happy, sweet little tune, and I used it between a major-key rendition of the Zlaya theme and the melody without the chords for Redwall. As IÕd been informed of SorgskyÕs piece also being performed at Redwall, I figured the meaning would once again be clear.
Ê Ê Ê Ê To the point, I thought I was perhaps overusing my established themes, but it was also necessary to enforce meaning by sticking with the same ideas. Therefore, for the impending false-meaning talks between Zlaya and the Abbot of Redwall, I mimicked OfievÕs theme-and-variations conversation implications. The Ofiev piece I nearly quotedÑparaphrasing it, so to speakÑwasnÕt among the ones banned, then or now, and therefore was played often and widely. ItÕs a well known piece, and I made my reference obvious.
Ê Ê Ê Ê Underneath the conversation bit, toward the end, I built up crescendoing chords, the advance of the scores of Mtsensk soldiers from outside. Eventually I stopped the chatter, so to speak, the chords dominating and segueing into the fanfare for Mtsensk IÕd composed on my very first day in the fortress, before I knew about the ban, before I knew much about Redwall, before IÕd even conceived I might get in trouble. Certainly before I knew the full extent of ZlayaÕs evil. From the fanfare, I projected into the battle. I donÕt need to describe how I do battles again. Just recall the second movement of my quartet. ItÕs like that, if you havenÕt heard it, replacing the original solos from the quartet with ZlayaÕs and RedwallÕs themes. They get louder and softer in a push and shove, battling with no determined result.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I stopped writing, right there. I didnÕt know how to end the piece, how to leave the battle or finish it. If I were to show the Redwallers winning, that might convey the Redwallers as easily superior, and then they wouldnÕt worry so much. And then theyÕd be defeated by default. But I couldnÕt show Mtsensk winning, I couldnÕt because it was a very real threat, and yet also because I couldnÕt see it happening. Maybe I didnÕt let myself go there, I donÕt know, but I couldnÕt see it happening and ending that way. To show Mtsensk winning would move the piece from a warning to a threat, the worst thing that could happen just short of the piece not setting off any alerts. There, the biggest dilemma of the process, the hardest part of the piece. It was just too open-ended. Open-ended enough so thatÕs how I just left it. Open. No writing history before itÕs that. I wrote an overlap of the two main themes growing louder and louder, converging, then abruptly dropping off. A silence of two measures, then an echo of my signature: MSHK.
Ê Ê Ê Ê I realize that IÕve just done what I said would bore you, what I listed as pointless and said I wouldnÕt do. Funny how the chapter just went that way, you know, and IÕm sorry. But as it were, I did explain that way, and I think I had to. ThatÕs what you do when thereÕs no live example. Though on the other paw, I could have just told you what I meant; just like I could have brought a note to Redwall instead of a manuscript, expressing
