Symphonic terror

It was a beautiful day, perfect for hanging out laundry, hanging out at the computer, and spending indoors. Oh, bother! I have started working again on copying Hubby�s symphony, which was on hold for a while because the commissioner was on the verge of declaring bankruptcy and no one was returning his calls or emails. It is now solvent and because we have friends in high places, the piece is a go and even has a premiere date next April. So I am back to work inputting little black notes and little white notes and squiggles and hairpins and all the fun stuff that goes into a musical score.

Even though Hubby has written much for orchestra, including tone poems and concerti, this is his first actual �symphony�. Of course his doctoral dissertation was also a symphony, but has never been played as written. Instead he broke it up into two separate, shorter pieces, rewriting the ending for one of them, and they have been played separately with different titles. After he is dead the musicologists will come across the score for Flame Under Flame and say, �By George, we have to stage a performance of this!� Isn�t that how it always is?

But I digress. I wanted to talk about his vision for this piece and what inspired him. The title, which I shall not disclose, comes from a painting we have on loan from a very famous Canadian artist (and which we could never hope to afford without taking out a mortgage on our house) presently hanging in our living room. The musical content itself is derived from many different kinds of world music, as well as contemporary popular and rock music. He even has a quote from the R�lling St�nes� Satisfaction. It is his artistic response to the events of September 11, 2001.

The first movement describes the pace of a city, frenetic, colourful, a little bit like Piet M�ndrian�s �Br�adway B��gie W��gie�. Then there is a feeling of impending doom, a musical depiction of the planes slamming into the towers, chaos and destruction, despair and desolation. The second movement is an apotheosis, based mostly on lullabies, a description of healing and love and ultimately a prayer for peace. I think it will be very effective. I get chills just writing about it here.

Otherwise today has been a bit of a writeoff. The boyfriend ended up staying over last night (how does my daughter manage these things?) in the spare room, and didn�t even say thank you before he left. Are we becoming that familiar to him? Where is the respect and fear that young men used to have for their girlfriends� parents? What is becoming of this younger generation?

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