Hello again, yes, so soon.
I decided to expand upon what I told you about my Children’s Songs over the weekend.
Yes, I did finish revising these, but I pretty much left them the way they were when I originally wrote them in 1994. Here’s why:
I was living in Arizona at the time and studying with Chinary Ung. Chinary really was one of the few things that were keeping me grounded at that period of my life, where I was reevaluating what and who I was, and deciding what to do with the next phase. One of the others was my friend Charles Wells.
Charles was a brilliant pianist and composer, also studying with Chinary at the time. He was a close and dear friend, and along with my good friend Sean Heim part of our circle of composers. Charles was very important to me because he helped me learn about holistic living and spirituality (he was a Christian in the most pure and absolute sense) after my devastating and near fatal illness in the early 90’s (diagnosed first as spinal meningitis, later as encephalitis, they still don’t know what happened…). Charles introduced me to yoga and its advanced concepts, a practice which has been part of my daily life for well over 20 years, and which I completely believe is the reason that I can walk (and can still play music) post-illness and that I am healthy and strong now. He was the most humble and giving man I have ever known, and I can only strive to be like him. Charles was a true friend, a brother, a teacher, a member of my spiritual family…the Children’s Songs were written for him to premiere on piano, which he did beautifully in April of 1994.
My life decisions were made at that point; I was to return to Boston, back to New England Conservatory to continue my education. I left a month after that performance, pleased with what I had learned as a composer and artist; more blessed with what I had experienced as a spirit. As a man, I felt transformed and ready for the next stage.
Charles was killed over Thanksgiving, 2009 in a car accident. He was driving through the desert night, more than likely to help someone in need. Sean called to tell me as I was walking into a gig…I was able to play, not because of any sort of strength or will on my part, but because I believe I was so stunned as to not be able to do–or think–anything else other than play.
So the Children’s Songs, then, represent not only a very powerful period of change and decision, but also one of silent and gentle reflection on a kind soul who helped me beyond words.
They will stay as I wrote them.
It’s actually amazing, but to give you a little compositional insight to my then 25 year old mind–just a little–I used a magic square technique with the pitches which physically/conceptually could also be seen as a prayer mandala…I didn’t remember this until I was revising the pieces. Kind of George Crumb meets Tibetan Buddhism. By the way, the seventh song is based on the melody of the Thanksgiving Hymn We Gather Together…one of my all time favorite melodies…in my song, however, it is quite abstracted. You can also hear it in my guitar piece A Child Sings at Thanksgiving , which is based on the seventh song.
But…this does not mean that the pieces will only be in this original form. After I finished the revision, the pieces would not let me be. The kept haunting my waking hours and were on my mind as I was trying to sleep…so, today I made a decision.
I decided to keep the piano version, but also to expand them by rewriting them for Pierrot ensemble (flute, clarinet, violin, cello,
and piano), making them fuller and longer. I started this project today and am pleased so far with the results. This way, I can update them without loosing the spirit of the original. Next, I plan to take the new version to the next level by rewriting them for chamber orchestra. I believe that the pieces will work in all of these settings.
And it will be fun…granted, it may be reliving my past, it may even be updating it, but I’ve come to a point in my life where I can embrace who I was when and what decisions I had made to bring me (one way or another) to where I am now. And by exploring this music again, I can give honor and respect to those who helped me in my need…and perhaps thank them.
Until soon,
Demetrius