After having the usual clarity presented in a dream I thought today's writing would be easy. Not so. It often happens to me that I see or hear a piece i'm working on in a dream, complete, but still elusive as if through frosted glass. Upon waking it is like catching smoke: evanescent. This was my experience last night: playing through a complete draft of the second movement of the sonatina with its dedicatee. Sitting down today to try and realise that dream I was able to discover fragments of melody and harmony before they evaporated. I often wonder if I'm not alone in the composing world in experiencing this phenomena.
I managed to get a considerable chunk down today but not entirely happy with the result. It reminds me of when I wrote Balulalow. I spent two days writing only to scrap with a Beethovenian scribble my efforts. I then spent a further week trying and generating another two ultimately failed attempts before settling back on what I wrote and scrapped at the start. I was left feeling that sometimes composing is as much about exorcising what shouldn't be written in order to obtain what should be as getting true thoughts down on paper.
Perhaps it will be the same with the last two days' efforts. The result so far adheres to the meandering ambiguous harmonic style I heard through frosted glass but doesn't as yet have the direction and sentiment I intended. Tomorrow I plan to play further with the material and possibly start again.
I managed to get a considerable chunk down today but not entirely happy with the result. It reminds me of when I wrote Balulalow. I spent two days writing only to scrap with a Beethovenian scribble my efforts. I then spent a further week trying and generating another two ultimately failed attempts before settling back on what I wrote and scrapped at the start. I was left feeling that sometimes composing is as much about exorcising what shouldn't be written in order to obtain what should be as getting true thoughts down on paper.
Perhaps it will be the same with the last two days' efforts. The result so far adheres to the meandering ambiguous harmonic style I heard through frosted glass but doesn't as yet have the direction and sentiment I intended. Tomorrow I plan to play further with the material and possibly start again.
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