Still Life, in Brief

Written in 2019 for orchestra (12 minutes)

Original Program Note

While writing this piece, I was particularly drawn to the idea of combining my love for the abstract with my love of the Romantic. There are several moments of what might feel like sentimental or reminiscent to an older time; the colors, harmonic material, and the way I’ve used the instruments come from familiar places, but they are more like memories than concrete objects. In some way, it is like trying to combine an Agnes Martin with a Vilhelm Hammershøi; an effort to be abstract, but poetically tangible and subdued.

Thoughts on the Piece

This was written during a period of time when I felt an urge to try and down as much orchestral writing as I could. Written right before COVID, I was able to take advantage of UNT’s multiple orchestral readings with this piece and Walls of Brocade Fields and my piano concerto The Afternoon Lasts Forever. I ended up writing two more orchestra pieces after this that I pulled from my catalog - too burnt out, maybe after cranking out three in a row. 

The original program note mentions Agnes Martin and Wilhelm hammersoi, two of my favorite painters, and probably the first time I really articulated my attachment to some sort of romantic idea of music and “expression.” I’m not really ever trying to force a sentimentality on my listeners, but I have a deep attachment to harmony and a particular harmonic structure. Sometimes this is more sentimental, often it’s relatively melancholic, but with this piece I was really looking for a way of capturing my favorite moments or favorite feelings from the “canonical” literature: Sibelius, Tchaikovsky, etc. At the first performance, a conductor in the audience looked at me and said “oh! Sibelius!” So I guess my tattoo of Sibelius was worth it! 

Still, I wanted to combine this with my love for the abstract, the more “meditative” and “cerebral.” Taking those moments from the canonical works and stretching them out into a space to occupy, an image, a room, a painting rather than a narrative. Then, try and do it in less than ten minutes.