Viola Pieces

I was at my parents’ house, where all my stuff is, and I unearthed a relic from the past.

First, an anecdote…

October 2004. It was the end of the New Music and Arts Festival, an annual, days-long, multimedia affair at every single music conservatory in the frickin country. One of my many tasks that weekend was to act as an airport shuttle service. The cargo: just myself, two guest composers… and no questions asked. Let’s just say, we liked to avoid any Imperial entanglements.

Anyway, a dude from Glasgow and some lady whose name I forget were the two in my charge on this particular day. The lady spent a fair amount of time trying to convince the good-natured Scot that America wasn’t all Bible-thumping, gun-toting fanatics. She was actually part of the John Kerry campaign in some capacity. This was a couple of weeks before Kerry’s defeat, mind you, though she was the only one of the three of us who seemed passionate about the topic. The foreigner said that in Scotland they find it all very fascinating to watch.

Anyway, when I dropped them off at the airport, the Scottish composer rewarded me with a free CD. Edward McGuire was his name, and the CD was one of the many that were for sale all weekend, but I didn’t have ten bucks to shell out for everything that caught my eye. He handed me the CD, saying it was for me. I, with my head up my ass and my foot in my mouth (quite a sight, I assure you), absent-mindedly said something like, “Oh, I don’t have any money.” He looked at me, bemused, and said that it was free, for driving him to the airport. I awkwardly and gratefully accepted it.

To him, I must have seemed quite the douche. He must have thought, “What’s with this guy, does he just plain not have any interest in my music?” Or just as likely, “Why would I shove a CD in his face after driving to the airport just to ask him to give me ten bucks? Does he think I’m a douche?”

I will always remember that glorious, painful moment when we stared at each other, confused, speechless, like we both felt like we’d offended the other person.

Anyway, I found the CD. Well over four years later, I only just now listened to it:


VIOLA PIECES (VOLUME 1)
James Durrant, MBE, viola

1) Martyr (for violas) – Edward McGuire 9’00
2) Prelude 6 (for solo viola) – Edward McGuire 5’35
3) Circe (for solo viola) – Janet Beat 7’35
4) Apt (for solo viola) – John Maxwell Geddes 4’39
5) Divertimento (for 20 violas) – Edward McGuire 10’09


I am kind of tempted to review the pieces, but what’s the point if you, the reader, can’t hear them? I checked, and they’re not available on iTunes. So unless you have the CD, I don’t need to bother. I don’t even have the program notes for McGuire’s stuff at the festival. Pointless, pointless blog post.

It’s just that I miss going to recitals, even the bad ones. This CD was a nice (re)discovery, however laced with bad memories. When I unearthed this relic, my surroundings seemed to change to a late-19th-Century house, the haunting choir gave way to a tender piano solo, and Jeremy Irons taunted me with images of What Could Have Been. Or maybe I’m thinking of… yeah, that definitely didn’t happen to me.

Lately I’ve felt an urgent desire to “keep my skills sharp,” and not just in music but in everything I was ever interested in. One way or another, I will have my personal space back, and I will sharpen my skills. I will get my piano chops back, I will brush up on music theory, I will do so many other things. And yes, as a composer, very soon I will set quill to parchment once again.

That doesn’t change the fact that I am culturally starved.

First things first…