Manifesto on the Rain: Prelude

I think writing is good for an artist. I think language is a great way to communicate ideas about a piece, make difficult work more accessible, and is vital in a relationship between art and the world. It seems rather simple, but it might not be as apparent to people actually involved in artistic work. For instance, to me, time spent writing words is time I could spend doing any number of other things that would relate more explicitly to the craft I’m going to school for. But I’m going through a bit of an artistic crisis where I know neither my medium nor my method, so all of these ideas are getting a bit more jumbled that I had intended. And now I am here writing. And I think I’ve come to one of the best benefits of writing-clarifying ideas for both the world and myself. In a way, I think I need to write a manifesto for myself, as my way of introducing my artistic self to the world and to myself. Its something that numerous people have told me to do, so I think I’m gonna do it. And I think I’m going to use this public forum to do so, and hopefully the results are interesting! But first, I feel like I should share a bit of myself and explain this artistic ‘crisis’ of sorts.

When I was a senior in high school, I went to have a lesson with the wonderful Evan Chambers, the professor I’m studying under now. At the start of the lesson (which was filled with such an enormous amount of incredible advice that I was overwhelmed and have now forgotten most of it) he paused for a minute or two. He was looking over my scores and he turned to me, looked me in the eye, and said “Yes. I think you should be a composer.” I was…well I was very surprised. I had no idea that such a decision was weighing on those few glances at my poorly written music. I was flattered, of course. But I was also very, very surprised. But then I knew that I could be a composer, I knew that I could call myself that.

But now I don’t know what that word means anymore. Or if it applies to me anymore.

I am a composer, yes. I spend time every week writing music. I spend time in rehearsals with musicians that are playing my music and I spend time working with my colleagues in the creation of new music. But more and more I’m writing music that doesn’t fit in with what ‘music’ is. More and more I’m drawn to alternative forms of musical expression or maybe artistic expression.

Recently I’ve been drawn to music that doesn’t follow a linear structure, that finds new ways of thinking about time or architecture, that incorporates spoken word or written word, that explores visualization, or that explores the highly personal and the entirely specific. My work has shifted in a new direction that is not putting notes on a page, but instead working with text, movement, and the oddslot visual. It might not even be music anymore. And so I’ve been drawn to performance. You could call it performance art, alternative theatre, or maybe even dance, but I still like to think of it as music.

Art has exploded in terms of definition and scope in the last century, and I consider myself a proud follower of the avant-garde, the radical, and the new. And it is within that that I am creating my work. But there is so much to define when nothing is definable, so I’d like to take some time on this blog to explore this and explore my own personal ideas when it comes to art. Dear reader, you may not agree with me, and that is okay. I don’t want you to. I want you to push me and I want you to push yourself.

I’m excited to see where this leads me. I hope you are too.