A.I. sure ain’t Baroque

Most of the world woke up to a cute Google doodle this morning, featuring the incredible Johann Sebastian Bach of organ-shredding and music-dynasty-begetting notoriety. The doodle’s claim to harmonize any two-measure melody in the style of Herr Meister Johann was intriguing. I quickly plugged in the first thing I could think of: “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” (I’ve been teaching a lot of beginner piano lately.) What resulted sounded like a mistake, a four part chorale written by Charles Ives or someone who might be failing Music Theory I. What’s the tonal center? Why are some of the chords missing thirds? And what’s with that minor second between the soprano and bass voices? Can the A.I. even counterpoint?

 

In short, my first try at using the Google doodle made me suspicious that it was a far shot from generating Bach-like music. But I decided giving the program W.A. Mozart’s “Ah vois dirai-ja, Maman” wasn’t quite fair; so, next, I tried giving it the first two measures of a melody Johann set a quite a few times: “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott.” Below is what I got, with my quick analysis. To other music theory nerds, I’m sure I’ve missed stuff–let me know in the comments!

[CORRECTIONS: The third chord (on beat 4 of measure 1) should be labeled a V4/3. The suspension in the tenor (or escape tone) on beat 3 of measure 2 is foiled because of the E in the alto. March 23, 2019.]

 

Now, compare that to my favorite of Johann’s own settings: BWV 303 (from bach-chorales.com).

 

To be fair, I generated thirteen “A.I. Bach” harmonies; and the above was the most humorous. But in my mind, this very happily confirms that, as great as technology is getting, J.S. Bach’s genius–his mastery of melodic/harmonic tension, fugue, and incredible voice leading–CANNOT be replicated by a computer program. Try again another time, Google. In the meantime, Bach’s ghost is killing kittens for that parallel fifth.

 

#SaturdaySounds: Mendelssohn Lieder ohne Worte op. 19 no. 1

Misuse the word song in conversation, and you’re sure to rankle even the most gracious classical musician. It may be a subtle error, but go ahead! Try it. See if they don’t correct your language–or wince a little, at least. To those interested the rationale for this reaction, a song, according to the Harvard Dictionary of Music, is “a form of musical expression in which the human voice has the principal role and is the carrier of text…” Note the key elements: human voice (singer) and text (lyrics). By that definition, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony CAN’T be a groovy song, dude. We call that a piece, or “a composition, especially but not necessarily an instrumental one” (Ibid). So, Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony is also a piece–because yes, it has singers and lyrics, but only in its final movement.

Okay, enough with the definitions and on to some music. Today, I’m listening to Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy’s Songs Without Words (Lieder ohne Worte), op. 19, no. 1. Notice the use of the word song? “But it’s a piano piece. There are no words! No singer,” I hear you grumble. Yes. I could wax musicologist now and write about characteristics of the Romantic Era, with its shift away from strict Classic Era structures, its lyricism and “emphasis on the indefinable and the infinite” (Ibid). But there are already plenty of sources that describe the music of the Romantics. (Check out links here and here, or go to good music history book, like Norton’s History of Western Music.)

I’d rather write about this one little wordless song: Andante con moto (Walking, with motion). It crystalizes the things I love most about Mendelssohn’s music: its innate sense of hope, purity, and energy. It’s as though his compositions, even in their stormy moments, were bathed in glimmering yellow sunshine. Perhaps that has something to do with upward melodic gestures (Schenker friends, I’m not talking about the Ursatz, don’t get mad). Personally, though, I think Mendelssohn’s music was somehow impacted by his faith. Even now, he is often criticized for his sentimentality and lack of tortured Romantic emotion (à la Schumann or Mahler); but I feel as though I hear the song of his soul when I listen to him–a song too deep for words, evoking inner hope, peace, joy. Perhaps that’s what he meant by Lieder ohne Worte. 

Listen to this recording by Daniel Gortler and see if you’re not feeling more hopeful.

 

2017 RAFA Artist Competition

It was so wonderful to be at the Raleigh Area Flute Association Flute Fair this year to play at the Artist Competition again–and to make new flute friends. What an encouraging surprise and honor, to win this time around! The RAFA board members were all so kind and the jury’s feedback was helpful. I so look forward to coming back to perform at the 2018 RAFA Flute Fair!

myUMBC, “Krisztina Dér Wins 1st Prize in RAFA Artist Competition!”

2017 Artist Competition Finalists (L to R): Krisztina Der, Megan Makeever, Jeiran Hasan. Photo Credit: Daryl Kessler, Riverview Photography.

Reformation 500

October 31, 2017 was a special day, for many reasons. An orchestra flashmob project I’ve been working on came to fruition: five performances of the finale of Mendelssohn’s “Reformation” Symphony no. 5 at five locations in Greensboro, NC, in honor of the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. (That’s a lot of fives!) David Holley, Artistic Director of Greensboro Opera and UNCG professor, graciously agreed to conduct. I am deeply indebted to him and to the musicians who volunteered to play with us!

Our itinerary:
8:55 AM, Coffeeology
9:30 AM, Whole Foods Market
10:30 AM, Four Seasons Town Centre
11:20 AM, Piedmont Triad International Airport
12:20 AM, Center City Park

A video is forthcoming!

Flute/light project: Afterword

 

flute/light recital, September 17, 2016. PC: Emma Der

Yeah, I know. It’s only been about a week since my last Flute/light project post. This is an afterword full of acknowledgements: a brief post thanking all of my wonderful colleagues who made that project (and subsequent videos!) possible.

Wayne Reich and Ben Singer, thank you for the amazing recordings, videos, and photos! You’ve been kind,  down-to-earth, patient, and generous. I’ve learned so much from the both of you.

To the composers: I love your work, and I keep pinching myself because I can’t believe I’ve had the opportunity to work with you. It’s been such an honor! My deep thanks.
Anna Meadors, Kyle Rowan, Michael S. Rothkopf, Stuart Saunders Smith, Jacob Thiede

To my fellow performers: thank you for your enthusiastic participation and support!
Alicia Bachorik, Sarah Busman, Asher Carlson, Noah Cline, Lowell Fuchs, Sharneisha Joyner, Amy Karnes, Amanda Mitchell, Janine Naprud, Stephany Saunders, Erik Schmidt, Abigail Simoneau, Bethany Uhler, Hyunsu Yoon

To all who assisted with lighting: thank you for your patience and generous help!
Aaron Bobeck, Drake Calo, Norman Coats, Jason Czaja, Manuel Da Silva, Noah Davis, Alyssa Eibott, Clara Freeze, Chip Haas, Jonas Hess, Evan Higgins, Katie Martin, Lisa Renkel, Joshua Selander, Katherine Ward, Ken White, UNCG School of Theater, UNCSA School of Design and Production Lighting Department

Finally, a HUGE thank you to my dissertation committee for their encouragement and guidance!
Mark Engebretson, Erika Boysen, James Douglass, Randy McMullen

Flute/light Project? Not sure what I’m talking about? Below are links to each video.

Flute/light Project Info Video
Anna Meadors, At Daybreak
Stuart Saunders Smith, The Circle of Light
Kyle Rowan, Komorebi
Michael S. Rothkopf, I Dream of Coloured Inks
Jacob Thiede, And everything in-between

Flute/light Project Video 5: Jacob Thiede’s And everything in-between

PC: Ash Stemke. Used with permission.

I’m a doctor! Which means the end of my dissertation project adventure. Yes. This is my last flute/light video release—at least for now!

Flute/light video? What does that mean? Let me get you up to speed.

Here’s a video I made explaining my flute/light intermedia art project!
And below are links to four more flute/light videos:

Anna Meadors, At Daybreak
Stuart Saunders Smith, The Circle of Light
Kyle Rowan, Komorebi
Michael S. Rothkopf, I Dream of Coloured Inks

Does all music have a narrative? Jacob Thiede’s piece And everything in-between investigates this question—and also the concept of unlistable infinity. The result: a palpable sense of excitement, mystery, and adventure. Does And everything in-between ever foil your expectations? Can you identify some of the many moods, sounds, and colors it explores? Feel free to comment with your thoughts below!

And everything in-between was recorded on December 3, 2016 in Brown Theatre at the University of North Carolina Greensboro. Wayne Reich and Ben Singer created the cinematic video. Lowell Fuchs helped me with sound; and Asher Carlson and Abigail Simoneau served as grips. I will never be able to fully express my thanks to all who contributed to this video—and to all who helped make my flute/light project possible!

This has been an incredible journey. My thanks also to all who have taken the time to watch these videos and join me in their celebration!

For more about And everything in-between (and some beautiful photos), check out Wayne’s blog, here.

Flute/light Project Video 4: Michael Rothkopf’s I Dream of Coloured Inks

New experiences can be something of a revelation, can’t they? The first time I ever tried zhajiangmian, it became a comfort food—and I crave it on and off ever since.

What does food from northern China have to do with music? The analogy’s a bit of a stretch, but Dr. Michael S. Rothkopf’s I Dream of Coloured Inks for Two Flutes and Computer (flute/light video 4) was the primary catalyst for my flute/light project. The enveloping, dynamic light in the piece whet my appetite for more!

Flute and light? Video 4? What am I talking about? Here: I’ll catch you up in a jiffy.

Check out the video I made about my flute/light intermedia art project!
And below are links to the first three flute/light videos:

Anna Meadors, At Daybreak
Stuart Saunders Smith, The Circle of Light
Kyle Rowan, Komorebi

Three years ago, in 2014, I published a blog post about I Dream of Coloured Inks’ world premiere. Way back then, I promised an I Dream of Coloured Inks video—and here it is!

Dr. Rothkopf’s piece is an improvisation for two flutes, lights, and computer. The computer listens to various aspects of the flutists’ sound—things like pitch, articulation, timbre, and dynamic—and responds both visually and sonically based on a series of probability tables in the Coloured Inks’ Max program. It’s an exciting exploration in sonic and visual color!

The piece was recorded on January 22, 2017, in Crawford Hall at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts. I was assisted by the lovely flutist Sarah Busman, as well as the audio and visual dynamic duo Ben Singer and Wayne Rich. I am deeply thankful for the generous help of all who contributed to this video—including the UNCSA Design and Production lighting department.

See Wayne’s lovely I Dream of Coloured Inks blog post for his thoughts and pictures!

Flute/light Project Video 3: Kyle Rowan’s Komorebi

Dissertation Recording Session No. 1, PC: Wayne Reich.

“Everyone needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul alike” (John Muir, from The Yosemite).

Often, I find myself yearning for mountains and trees somewhere, anywhere. There’s something wonderfully restorative about out-of-the-way places—and the time it takes to enjoy them. Imagine you’re in a forest. Maybe you’re sitting on its pine-needle floor or blazing a trail. Either way, picture afternoon sunlight being filtered by trees around you. There’s a warm glow that shimmers through leaves and needles, vibrant like a live wire.

Dr. Kyle Rowan uses sound and light intermedia to capture this forest-light phenomenon in his composition Komorebi for solo flute and lighting, the third video in my flute and light project! The Japanese word Komorebi, roughly translated, means: sunlight filtering through leaves.

Okay—but wait. Flute and light project? Intermedia? Third video? What am I yakking about? Let me get you up to speed!

Here’s an info video I made about my flute/light intermedia art project!
And here are links to the first two cinematic videos:

Anna Meadors’ At Daybreak
Stuart Saunders Smith’s The Circle of Light.

Komorebi’s lighting concept features shifting shadows and colors that fade in and out puckishly. I’d say the music complements the lighting—but it more than complements it. Together, they are sprightly, caressing, shimmering, enveloping. Together.

Lighting technicians Katherine Ward and Abigail Simoneau manually controlled the lighting board faders in this video production. Wayne Reich and Ben Singer created the cinematic video. All recording was done on December 3, 2016 in UNCG’s Brown Building Theatre. My heartfelt thanks to all who helped me make this video—including those who took the time to teach me a thing or two about lighting boards!

Wayne published a post about Komorebi on his blog. Check it out for a glimpse into his perspective as videographer and some great pictures of the editing process!

Flute/light Project Video 2: Stuart Saunders Smith’s The Circle of Light

PC: Sarah Busman. Used with permission.

Video numero II id est. I decided to release my flute/light cinematic videos in the order of my premiere concert in September 2016. That brings us to Stuart Saunders Smith’s The Circle of Light: A Ceremony for solo flute and eight lumanists.

Flute and light? Video No. 2? Not sure what I’m talking about? No worries! I’ll catch you up in a jiffy.

Check out the info video I made about my flute/light intermedia art project!

And here’s the link to the first cinematic video (Anna Meadors’ At Daybreak), along with some more background information.

The Circle of Light is a 17 minute piece performed in almost complete darkness, with slowly changing lighting and repetitive musical material. The result is a lyrical, meditative atmosphere. And people—the flutist, lumanists (flashlightists), audience, and composer—are united through the experience of this atmosphere.

Still with me? For a second, forget that you have photos to post to Instagram, calls to return, or a Tumblr feed to update. Take a moment to appreciate your surroundings. Is there a clock ticking in the distance? Maybe you can smell coffee or feel the warmth of the sun. That’s what I mean by atmosphere. Perhaps you tell someone, “Wow, that coffee smells nice!” And then, that someone takes notice of it. You are united in your mutual awareness of the aroma. It’s possible you are even united in your mutual enjoyment of it!

Because this unifying awareness of atmosphere is essential to The Circle of Light, I think it’s best to experience the piece live. That being said, the audio and visual team Ben Singer and Wayne Reich, along with my lumanist performers (Bethany Uhler, Noah Cline, Janine Neprud, Stephany Saunders, Erik Schmidt, Amy Karnes, Asher Carlson, and Abigail Simoneau), all did an incredible job helping me create this cinematic video and contemplative atmosphere! The Circle of Light was recorded in Brown Building Theatre at the University of North Carolina Greensboro on December 3, 2016. I was assisted by lighting technician Katherine Ward.

Since darkness is so important to Dr. Smith’s piece, try watching with your lights off!

Wayne has published a thoughtful blog post about this transcendental work on his website. Check it out here.

Flute/Light Project Video 1: Anna Meadors’ At Daybreak

Dissertation Recording Session No. 1, PC: Ben Singer.

Graduation. It’s coming, and time is flying as relentlessly as ever! In less than a month, I’ll be “commencing” post-degree life for a third time. And then, I’ll officially be able to put two letters in front of my name: D-R.

I’m feeling a bit sentimental, so I’m going to share what I’ve been working on for the last year and a half. Well, okay. Really, I’m just plain excited about what I’ve been doing, and I’m going to burst soon if I don’t share it.

Way back in middle school, tiny Krisztina was given her first taste of intermedia art. I’ve been addicted ever since. When the time came to ponder my dissertation topic, it was only natural for me to think: intermedia.

What’s intermedia art, you ask? A fine question! Very simply, it’s the integration of diverse artistic mediums. See my flute/light project intro video for a more thorough explanation, here!

Fast-forward through some life experience, performance opportunities, and research; and I had narrowed my field of study to two specific mediums: sound and light. Then, back in February 2016, I began my flute/light commission project.

Sound and light—both are manifestations of kinetic energy. A great deal can be observed about them: their frequencies, amplitudes, velocities. Their union is found in thunder and lighting, electricity, and even black holes. It’s nearly impossible to imagine a world without them! But Aristotelian questions remain: What is the essence of energy, sound, and light? This mystery fills me with tremulous wonder when I listen to a Brahms symphony or observe the stars; and I am compelled that it is this very mystery that lends sound and light their dramatic power in the arts.

This blog post is No. 1 in a series of five video releases that mark the culmination of my flute/light project! The first? Anna Meadors’ At Daybreak for flute, percussion, and lighting.

Anna’s piece is the origin story of light, as told by Italo Calvino in “At Daybreak” from Cosmicomics. The music and light work in synergy to portray a nebulous opening, followed by a condensing of the nebulous matter, the sudden creation of light, and its disappearance at nightfall. Because there is lighting throughout the piece, I always find myself anticipating the dramatic moment when THE light will burst into the story.

We were all burning in the fire. Or rather: we weren’t burning, we were immersed in it as in a dazzling forest; the flames shot high over the whole surface of the planet, a fiery air in which we could run and float and fly, and we were gripped with a new joy (Italo Calvino, from “At Daybreak”).

All video footage for At Daybreak was recorded in Brown Building Theatre at the University of North Carolina Greensboro on December 3, 2016. I was assisted by percussionist Erik Schmidt and lighting technician Katherine Ward. The cinematic video was created by audio and visual team Wayne Reich and Ben Singer. I can’t begin to say how thankful I am to each of them for their contributions to the project!

Wayne has published a blog post on his website about the video production of At Daybreak with cool pictures of the editing process! Check it out here.

Stay tuned for more videos, and thanks for reading!

Zoltán Kodály, “Song” from the Háry János Suite.

With the Kodaly statue in Pecs, Hungary, during my studies at the Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest.

Fifty years after his death, the name “Zoltán Kodály” has spread worldwide, conjuring up thoughts of music pedagogy and solfege. Many don’t realize that he was also a linguist, a philosopher, an ethnomusicologist—and a brilliant composer. One of the first CDs I ever owned included a piece that is still very dear to me: Kodály’s Dances from Marosszék (Marosszéki Táncok). Even then, I was captivated by the deeply lyrical quality of Kodály’s music, his colorful orchestrations, and the magical way his music evokes both longing and hope.

Back in 2010, I received a grant to arrange music for a small chamber ensemble with unconventional instrumentation. Hoping to familiarize more Westerners with Kodály’s music, I chose to arrange a movement from his Háry János Suite: “Song” (or, “Dal,” in Hungarian). Originally from Kodály’s Háry János, a singspiel about the tall-tales of a hussar, the lyrics of “Song” express Háry János’ tender longing to be home with those he loves.

The recording below features Asher Carlson (clarinet), Leonardo Ottoni do Rosario (violin), Emily Damrel (double bass), and Rachel AuBuchon (prepared piano). It was recorded on April 30, 2016, and edited by Dr. Michael S. Rothkopf, with additional help from Ben Singer.

 

 

Why music?

 “You’re going to major in music?” Upon my high school graduation, my extended family (great aunts and second cousins alike) all seemed to have been crouching in anticipation, ready to pounce me with the question.  “Why?  We thought you were smarter than that.”  Why, indeed.

     I had a roommate who was applying to schools for a graduate degree in chemistry at the same time I was applying for a MM.  The schools not only offered to pay all her tuition and give her a generous stipend.  They paid for her to visit the schools: hotel, food, airfare.  She raised her eyebrows, genuinely wondering: “Why go to grad school–for music?”  Why, indeed.

     Why have I chosen something as difficult and relatively unrewarding as classical music as my vocation?  Why didn’t I choose microbiology, English, or ophthalmology?  I would have been capable of any of those things.

     Some of the reasoning behind my pursuit of music as a career comes, of course, from my love for the art.  It would be madness to pursue music as a career if there was no pleasure to be had in it.  However, much of it has had to do with opportunity.  I have a family background of individuals who pursued music seriously as amateurs.  My parents listened to little other than classical music.  It was natural–and expected–that I should study music.  Then, when I decided I would try competing and auditioning, the doors to a career in music welcomed me, and so have, since.  I take my life a step at a time, growing deeper in my love for an art form that is so abstractly beautiful, knowing that, whatever it is I do to earn my living, music will always be an integral part of me.

     Zoltán Kodály seemed to believe that music was innate to peoples of all the world, seeking to train the ears of the masses to enjoy classical music by implementing his Kodály method, which brings the listener to an understanding of music, beginning with the music which results from his native language–folk music.  Do people want to understand classical music, however?

     The masses say: Classical music is not culturally relevant.  If people mean it’s not new enough for them, what about all of the composers hailed as “too intellectual” in the last fifty to sixty years?  What I believe most individuals mean by this is “abstract music is boring.”

     My response: Yes, and that’s because, in this materialistic, fast-paced, over-stimulated, entertainment-demanding culture, it takes too much thought and time to comprehend, to learn to enjoy.

     Reading that statement again, I realize it sounds woefully arrogant.  I do believe that all musics are valid forms of expression.  I simply think that some express themselves in a more sophisticated manner than others, and that, were more people to take the time to understand classical music, it would achieve greater success.

     That being said, does success in the world give something its value?  I should hope not!  If it were, many beautiful and useful things would be worthless.  Classical music, I believe, is an expression of the pursuit of the infinitely beautiful–something the soul innately longs for.  Giving individuals a taste of the beautiful, encouraging them to wonder and enter the realm of the metaphysical–this is what makes music valuable.  This is why I am a musician.