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Writing
an organ symphony
“The Hymn of the Pearl” was written over a period
of about eighteen months. Now complete and awaiting its first complete
performance, this is the story of how it came into being and the
process of its creation.
Discovering
ancient texts
In 1999, the blockbuster movie Stigmata (about a Catholic priest
investigating the case of a young girl who is involuntarily affected
by the phenomenon) began a new wave of public interest in biblical
history, stemming from the fact that the film made strong references
to passages from the Gospel of Thomas which, until that time, was
largely in the domain of scholars. What impressed me most in the
months following its release was the wealth of information that
suddenly became available on the subject of "lost" gospels
and Gnostic writings, and how the re-evaluation of ancient scripture
became a more acceptable thing to do. I had been aware of the Synoptic
Sayings Source Q since my college days and was intrigued by the
possibility that such a text might exist and prove to be so revealing.
So when I purchased a commentary on the Gospel of Thomas and read,
"These are the secret sayings which the living Jesus spoke
and Dydimus Judas Thomas recorded", I decided to begin a collection
of short musical commentaries on each of the 144 sayings in the
Coptic version of the Gospel.
Any music which takes a text as its source of inspiration is a
natural expression of a composer's affinity with the subject matter,
but to write music about words as powerful as these was something
new and exciting. The Secret Sayings of Jesus (for organ and reader)
is an ongoing work-in-progress, although further investigation into
other early Christian writings eventually led me to discover the
Acts of Thomas, where we find the beautifully poetic story of a
soul's journey and ultimate redemption; the Hymn of the Pearl (or
Hymn of the Robe of Glory) on which I have based my symphony.
Getting
started
Having composed various collections of shorter pieces and become
familiar with structuring works on a small scale, it was my father
(suggesting I should attempt something larger) who prompted me to
write the first few notes for what was to become The Hymn of the
Pearl. After completing a page or two it seemed that the ideas were
going nowhere and that I needed to begin something else. The result
was a piece which began as a scherzo movement. It had more about
it to develop and was certainly going somewhere. I persevered with
it through to completion, incorporating some harmonic ideas from
the recently abandoned composition and giving it a strong arch-form
structure. I soon realised that it would not stand on its own as
a satisfactory piece of music because, in my mind at the time, it
had no reason for being. I thought that it would work better with
an accompanying movement or two to contrast and balance the themes.
Rather like a bird laying its eggs before building a nest, I had
written a central, pivotal movement which needed to be supported,
so I called it Intermezzo.
Moving
on to stage two
Taking the melody of the Intermezzo, turning it upside down and
giving it a new time signature enabled me to easily created a piece
that was essentially a pale reflection of the same music. I intentionally
chose to limit the amount of melody used so as not to make it overly
long at a slower tempo. The choice of form came after looking at
slow movements by other composers and deciding that the melody was
best suited to song-form (as found in the Suites of Vierne and Duruflé)
leading me to complete the Cantilene. By this time I had completed
two pieces which, while being closely related to each other, still
needed more development by way of additional movements. It was at
this point that the notion of a symphony first came to mind. As
this much had been achieved already, there seemed no good reason
not to continue, except for lack of motivation.
In
search of inspiration
Whenever I write a new piece of music there is always a sense
of adventure in setting out to produce something that will, over
time, evolve into a very different finished work from the ideas
which I may have had at the start.
The greatest disappointment in writing comes from having a pre-conceived
idea of the finished piece of music. No composer or artist who puts
pen to paper with a clear image of the end in sight is being true
to himself. The very notion excludes the process of creativity by
assuming that the work has been instantaneously sculpted in the
mind, leaving only the work of a scribe to notate it. What is pre-conceived
however, is an impression of desire; the creator's self-imposed
standard by which he will attempt to prove himself. There is no
harm in allowing a germ to spread as all germs will. That is to
say, by simply taking a small musical idea and giving oneself the
freedom to doodle with it, a formal structure of some description
will naturally emerge, sparking other ideas and leading the composition
along a path of its own.
No matter how high my aspirations have been at times, there has
been no creative impetus without a good reason to do something.
Work on any new piece must be continuous if the end is ever to be
in sight (no matter how slowly one works) and for this reason it
is important to know why you are composing at all. Usually it is
enough to simply want to do it. When the desire to write music occurs,
you please yourself in some way by fulfilling your intentions. More
usually however, there is an underlying reason - either a fascination
with a subject, the possibility of a performance or a rare commission.
Occasionally I have come across people who seem to write music only
because they can. These people have a regard for what they do which
is beyond what they are actually capable of. Sadly this means that
the result (the music they write) is simply no good at all or highly
pretentious. Showing off by writing music is never to be condoned
- the listener can tell, although the title of a piece can sometimes
give this away. After all, a piece does not have to begin with its
title. Better that it does not. Rather, the nature of the title
is a reflection of the music that has been created naturally instead
of being made to fit.
Inspiration
found
The motivation to continue with the symphony was threefold. Firstly,
the dedication of the work to my teacher, mentor and friend, Nicolas
Kynaston; secondly, the discovery of the text of the Hymn of the
Pearl which fitted the existing movements like a glove and would
mould the remaining parts; and thirdly, an opportunity to perform
the work in a concert at Westminster Abbey.
Completing
the composition
I had previously experienced the benefit of writing music "out
of sequence" with my Suite in memoriam for two trumpets and
organ, and Somerset Scenes for violin and organ, where the ideas
formed in the later movements (which were written first) paved the
way for the earlier movements (written last) thus, in a strange
way, giving the running order a sense of progression. I had thrown
all my cards on the table with the Intermezzo and Cantilene, so
now I had to arrange them in groups for the remaining pieces.
The first eight bars of the Cantilene featured a bass line which
nicely resembled a Passacaglia theme. A long phase of writing different
variations on that theme soon began, and by piecing them together
in various ways to form a collage that sounded strong and organic,
I found gaps that needed to be filled and some variations that could
be discarded all together.
An Adagio movement followed which almost exclusively uses the
"pearl" theme (as I call it) which had been composed prior
to the Intermezzo.
At this stage of completion it was obvious that the completed
symphony was going to last far in excess of the time allowed for
the Abbey performance. I therefore welcomed the recommendation of
my father to perform just the last two movements, saving the rest
for a later date. This meant that the final movement (the first
movement) could benefit from more time being spent on it to ensure
its success in setting the scene and paving the way ahead. The Prelude
to The Hymn of the Pearl became a sonata-form movement (as planned)
with a long introduction for-shadowing the end of the Passacaglia.
The introduction used exactly the material that had at first been
put aside, and developed into a main theme which had been initially
conceived as a motive in the Adagio. The Hymn of the Pearl - Symphony
for organ was completed in September 2005 (nearly eighteen months
after it was begun).
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