Experiencing music, instead of just listening passively, is the ultimate goal. The multi-dimensional experience of a live music performance is what I would rather have. I was recently recalling the experience of sitting as a flutist in the orchestra, and depending on how the seating of the musicians in the orchestra is arranged, the experience would change from piece to piece. For example, the violins could be sitting front and right to me. Percussion, in particular the timpani, would be behind me. Brass and string bass would be to my left. This puts me in the music. I am surrounded with what extends outward in time and space, in time and space. It should be this way every time.
Listening to recorded music has it’s place, but it seems to be only a simulation of the real world. I want to be immersed in the music, with the ability to move anywhere in the space the music occupies.
It was like turning on a light switch. I found myself up in the middle of the night. My brain was running with the stresses of the previous day, and I wasn’t looking forward to what may come the next day. Stress had my brain working overtime on “stuff” that would probably not matter by the end of the next day. I tried to clear my mind, but the effort made it harder to go back to sleep. I decided to try the one thing that seemed to work before.
Ludwig van Beethoven composed some of the most beautiful music during the most difficult times in his life. That would prove true for me, too. Although, some would argue that creating a mood or feeling is one of the most important elements to work on, when creating a composition, I was taught differently. I was taught that composing music is much like building a chair. If the finished work evokes any kind of feeling, it is an unintentional effect. To some, it is a phenomena to be studied—as it can evoke every type of emotion. For the composer, emotions work on the fringes of the creative process. Composing is first a craft.
For me composing, performing and recording are a combined process. After developing an idea, I have to work on the performance aspect of the composition. The technical part of recording the composition is also deeply embedded in the process, as well as sound design. Sound design can alone be a very technical process that can be very emotionally distracting. With that said, If I had started out in a specific emotional state, by the end of the creative process I could end up experiencing a diverse set of emotions. The emotions can be totally random and not associated with the original mood I was looking to convey. So, relying solely on how I feel could be a self-defeating element. It can kill the creative process.
Somehow, the “Deep Mist” compositions express exactly how I feel about a specific time in my life. Using words to express how I felt at the time would mostly miss the mark. Yet, I don’t believe that was the goal in recording these compositions. However, when listening to these recordings I can, once again, go back to that time and experience it in a similar way. It transcends conventional language. They embody my feelings.
That time was sad, but I was at peace. Time passes, so I put on “Deep Mist” in the middle of the night. I wondered how many songs-in I would be, before going back to sleep. I don’t remember listening further than the middle of the first song.
