Composition: A Five Point Plan

BY YANPENG ZHANG

 

I was born in Northeast China in 1989. In my early years, my parents were very surprised at my talent and interest in playing with a crappy digital keyboard. They decided to buy me a full-size piano and send me to private piano tuitions, despite the extremely tight budget. Thus began my “career” as a musician.

After years of professional training, I, like many other piano learners, became actively interested in virtuosic pieces – to be specific, the ‘12 Transcendental Etudes’ S139 by Franz Liszt. It was for the very first time I realised how powerful and ‘espressivo’ piano playing could be. It’s fair to say that the experience of playing these concert etudes was a real eye-opener for me, and was pretty much the sole reason that I started to compose. Being a narrow-minded teen, I thought whoever wrote music with astonishing complexity was worth worshipping. Later, quite predictably, I became obsessed with other great composers with piano background, especially Sergei Rachmaninov and Sergei Prokofiev. The romantic and late-romantic piano techniques and harmony vocabulary still have strong influences on me today.

I wrote my first Piano Sonata at 18, though it was disposed of shortly after due to its extremely clichéd nature. I was baffled by these very questions: Is it okay to write in a style that I am obsessed with (in my case, Romanticism)? If there is already a Rachmaninov, I see no point in becoming another Rachmaninov. But on the other hand, why would I want to write in a style that I despise? What matters the most, being true to oneself, or the stylistic originality?

I was eager for answers. I thought a professional music institution could be helpful – but I later found that it only reinforced the confusion.

In 2009, I started to study composition at the University of Tasmania Conservatorium of Music. My teachers were three established Tasmanian composers: Dr Maria Grenfell, Russell Gilmour, and Don Kay. Under their supervision, I was banned (yes, banned) from writing in my familiar tonal language, and was strongly encouraged to explore the “outer world”: George Crumb, György Ligeti, Béla Bartók, and even Iannis Xenakis. This was also the period when I began to dip a toe into academic-style music. I graduated in 2011 with a Bachelor of Music.

Apart from getting a testamur that could be useful for future career, studying composition at a conservatorium did help with answering the questions mentioned above – to some extent. No, I did not broaden my tastes. On the contrary, my interest in Romanticism grew and developed. I guess this is the most important lesson I learnt at the UTAS Conservatorium (get ready for my famous quote):

 

The Conservatorium is not a place to train copycats. By saying copycats, I not only mean the conservative classical/romantic copycats, but also those who are new-complexity/extended technique fanatics. The Conservatorium is merely a place where compositional techniques are taught; the trainees should make their own stylistic decision.

 

After graduation, I was at last free to compose whatever I found decent. However, to be fair, I must say this three-year “detention” from my natural style did help me gain a much better understanding of the essence of music, and provide me with a more colourful palette. Although my taste for music styles remained largely unchanged, my love for conservative tonality will never fade away.

 

Below is a brief overview of my beliefs in music composition:

 

1. A composer should have his/her distinctive language. Namely, the “signature” in the compositions. After all, music is a discipline of the arts, where genuine creativity plays a vital role.

2. We should never judge a work by the theories or technologies behind it. Or, how good the full score looks. A work is good only when it sounds good, whether it’s notated music, digital audio workstation (DAW) music, or a mixture of both.

3. Respect the performers. But challenge them as well. One of the critical success factors for a great notated piece is performer involvement. The composer should let the performers have a sense of security (i.e. not too hard to play) so that they can fully convey the spirit of every single note, and at the same time, have some sort of self-fulfilment or in-the-spotlight moments (for instance, a speechlessly beautiful passage, piano cadenza, employment of exotic percussion instruments).

4. Writing music in 19th Century style is nothing to be ashamed of. Those who wrote profound academic-style music should not mock the traditional-minded people and call their works cliché or pastiche. Everything is cliché today, especially when considering John Cage had expanded the definition of music to its extremes.

5. Homophony (melody-dominated texture) has a more intimate connection with human souls. This may be because, in most cases, the human voice is homophonic. Composers who despise homophony should definitely embrace it.

 

Yanpeng Zhang is a Sydney-based contemporary classical pianist and composer. His work ‘Triumph of Love (op.10)’ was premiered at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music on November 11. For a complete list of his works, head to www.yanpengzhang.me. Follow him on Twitter @yanpengzhang

 

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1 Comment on Composition: A Five Point Plan

  1. Why should anyone decide for anyone else how they should enjoy their music? If someone enjoys a piece for a theoretical or visual reason, should they be ashamed for enjoying it? The context of music plays an important part in listening to many people; why should they be encouraged to ignore this?

    The same goes for the comment on homophony – it might have a more intimate connection with you, but I don’t necessarily feel touched by it in any particular way – as a composer, I have used it in my music as much as I have used extended techniques or elements of new complexity, but I don’t see why composers should ‘definitely’ embrace anything if they aren’t interested in it. What we are individually interested in informs our personal voice…if you wish to encourage a distinctive language in musicians, these ideas come at odds with that.

    I also disagree with the point about performers needing room to convey the spirit of every note – some music isn’t about the spirit of every note, and hence it doesn’t require this. Complex, difficult music often wishes to engage with different ideas, and there are both composers interested in writing these ideas and performers who enjoy playing them – why stifle this, too?

    I’m glad that you’re choosing to write in a style that suits you and that you are championing this for other composers, but I find your own arguments encourage restriction based on your own interests. Commenting that everything is cliche is a bit much as a defense to your style – musicians have been and are still doing amazingly interesting things even today, and John Cage certainly didn’t exhaust every concept by himself. Do what you do because you enjoy it, not because you’ve got an excuse thanks to Cage fixing the requirement of innovation.

    I’m interested to hear your thoughts on this, but I must admit I strongly disagree with these points you make from the outset.

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