Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself - The Boyar Method For 6 Mallets

"Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself." Jay-Z

Introduction

Throughout this series, I will attempt to examine and explain my method of playing with 6 mallets. A lot of excellent work has been done on this subject. My intention is not to claim credit for or replace anyone's work. Rather, I only seek to explain my personal system so that others may benefit from it. For me, the development of my 6 mallet method was musically driven. My music began to demand the use of extra voices and musical ideas and thus, my 6 mallet approach was born.

Paying Homage

As pointed out in the introduction, I am well aware that I am FAR from the first person to develop a 6 mallet technique. Keiko Abe used it throughout her compositions. Great marimba virtuosi such as Ludwig Albert and Pei Ching Wu have been using it for years. The technique has been codified and explored throughly by Dean Gronemeier, Kai Stensgaard, Robert Paterson, and Joe Porter. Other excellent contributions have been made by Rebecca Kite and Jane Boxall.

I developed my grip and method on my own through trial and error along with years of performing in a wide variety of situations as a working musician. I didn't study 6 mallets with anyone and I don't have any fancy degrees. In fact, I don't even have a master's degree.

Throughout the development of my method I took some time to study other methods. Out of all these excellent player's grips mine is definitely most similar to both Dean Gronemeier's and Kai Stensgaard's approach. I admire the work of these fine musicians. With that said, we all play quite differently and we absolutely have different perceptions and ways of explaining things. Ultimately, my approach is my own and as we explore my method the differences between mine and other methods (no matter how initially similar they may appear) will become clear. 

With all of that said, surprisingly the two largest influences of my work are not 6 mallet players. They are without a doubt Gary Burton and Leigh Howard Stevens. Leigh's Method of Movement and his system are the foundation for my method. I view my method as building on his and without Leigh's foundation the "system of grace" in my method would not be possible. As for Burton, I use the Burton cross grip (my first grip) to essentially build a "new wing" onto my hands. This is similar to the process described by Dean Gronemeier.

Therefore, I will not present my method as a revolution unto itself. Rather, it is an evolutionary system which I use to teach, perform, and create music with 6 mallets. My system needed a name and I named it "The Boyar Method."

My "Grip" History

I originally learned to play the marimba using a modified Burton Grip in which one holds the handle at the ends of the shafts. This grip was taught to me by William Moersch during several lessons at Rutgers University when I was still in high school. It was an excellent grip but regardless, I then switched to Stevens one year later. I simply felt there was more available information on the subject and I've always been a sucker for pedagogy. I was able to teach myself Stevens grip by using his seminal book The Method of Movement. Later, Greg Giannasoli would show me how to use the grip to achieve a large amount of power. Lack of power is something that is unfortunately often falsely sighted as the primary weakness of Stevens grip. I've been using Steven's method for almost 20 years and "lack of power" has definitely proved to be a false chink in the armor.

I never played with Traditional Grip although some of my favorite players growing up like Keiko Abe and Nancy Zeltsman used it. As a student, perhaps the greatest inspiration for me was Gordon Stout (I wouldn't be playing the marimba today if it weren't for his recordings) and he has his own cross grip.

A Stevens/Musser Foundation

My version of 6 mallets is rooted in Stevens grip. I use Stevens for almost everything so when some of my music started to demand the use of 6 mallets, I developed a method through Stevens. However, the truth is I don't think it matters what grip one uses. When a student comes to me using a different grip than mine, I rarely change it unless there are deep rooted issues that need addressing. All grips have their strengths and weaknesses and they are all useful. Any great artist will eventually surpass "grip" in their playing. It just doesn't matter anymore at a certain level. However, my 6 mallet method is based on Stevens grip and therefore, The Boyar Method will probably be most relevant to those who use Stevens/Musser.

With Inspiration from Gronemeier, Boyar Peace Summit Leads to Stevens and Burton Joining Forces - A New Alliance is Born! 

My 6 mallet grip is a combination of the two grips I am most familiar with. Stevens is still the absolute base. Much of the foundation that makes Steven's "Steven's" is firmly in place. Burton is then added to Stevens to create a new system. When trying to develop a method of playing 6 mallets, I found that a cross grip with it's "mallet interdependence" is extremely useful since there simply aren't enough fingers left to create a true 3rd "independent mallet." However, ironically with the application of Burton grip overlapping Stevens, having 3 truly independent mallets becomes entirely possible. For those of us who have studied 6 mallet technique before, this process is similar to the one described by Dean Gronemeier. However, my method brings some new ideas to the table that I believe have the potential to change 6 mallet playing from a mere extended and specialized technique to an evolutionary technique.

Thoughts on "Rain" for Marimba Ensemble and Track

My path to composition was not a traditional one. I started out as a Juilliard trained performer and a teacher. Eventually I became bored and I began venturing into new territory. I desperately wanted a new outlet to be creative but composition never actually crossed my mind. It was producing that initially peaked my interest. I had a lot of friends who were in the producing world and something about it fascinated me. As a classically trained musician, I had always been taught that using one's ear and "listening" was something that was done primarily through notes, tone, color, and balance. I marveled over the idea that in the world of producing, the ear took on a much larger role as "what was heard" went beyond the music. The actual "sound" itself became so important. That's not to say it wasn't important before but producing seemed to add a third dimension. This was definitely something I could explore.

I have always felt that the modern marimba lacked enough character to be a serious instrument and I have always wanted to play a role in developing it further. I felt that learning about producing was a way I could essentially get inside of the sound and create characters that touched new audiences. I started making tracks using pro tools and eventually logic. I built up a small collection of mics and started to record myself. I experimented a lot with everything from samples, stock sounds, and even my voice. All throughout I watched tons of videos to learn as much as I could. Over time my ears changed dramatically. I started to hear everything!

At the time I didn't realize it but in making the tracks I was technically composing music. I just didn't see it that way. In fact I didn't even write a single note until a few years later. It's safe to say that I definitely came to composing through producing. Looking back I think I just wanted to know more about music and how it was actually made beyond the notes. Once I understood that process, writing the actual notes became easy.

"Rain" is ultimately about embracing the randomness in creativity and life.

Rain was developed during this time. I had sampled a few water sounds for several different projects I was working on. I made a few core beats from these samples. You can hear one of them in Rain today. One evening, I developed an improvisation around this beat playing several marimba parts with 1 mallet in each hand. At the time I had no clear ideas for the music except that it was inspired by the water beat I had made. I recorded it and put it away.

Nothing much happened after that. Remember, at the time I was still technically not coming at this stuff from the vantage point of a composer. As far as I was concerned I was simply experimenting. It wasn't until much later when I was actually "writing music" that I went back, listened, and realized that I had a piece that was attempting to create a rudimentary sonic representation of rain using the marimba as the primary musical vehicle. I went through it note for note and transcribed it into Sibelius.

At this point I basically had a beat with marimba parts. It was interesting and it sounded really cool. I gave the parts to my students at NYU and we gave a trial performance on one of our Marimba Ensemble Concerts in 2012. However, I still felt like something was missing. It wouldn't be until later when I formed Boyar Music Studios that I would finally build a track around the music in order to publish a full version of "Rain." I should backtrack here for a moment and point out that prior to developing the published version, I had actually tried to build a track around the music on several occasions but I could never get it right. Looking back, I can now see that I lacked the production experience and the ears to bring my ideas to fruition. This is no longer a problem.

As with most of my music, there is a metaphor at work. "Rain" is ultimately about embracing the randomness in creativity and life. It can be a very painful process at times, but it is something that (at least for me) must be practiced. Flexibility is an art form unto itself and it is by far the most natural order of things. My artistic development is no exception and "Rain" is a culmination of not only this process but more importantly, this philosophical understanding. Nobody can predict how or where the drops of Rain will fall but when embraced it's truly beautiful and sometimes there's even a rainbow afterwards.

Copies of Rain for Marimba Ensemble and Track by Simon Boyar can be purchased here.

Thoughts on "The Void" for Percussion Ensemble

"The Void" came together during a very strange period in my life. At the time I was living in Brooklyn constantly sketching songs, concert works, and solo pieces yet I could never release anything. Why? 

Here's a little back story...

I experienced a moderate degree of early success in my career. By the time I was 25 I was teaching at 2 major schools, performing as a concerto soloist around the world, and regularly freelancing. In a very short period of time, I became an established member of the professional community. It happened very fast. It sounds great but at the time I was truly unhappy. I always felt like something was missing. Looking back I know now that my frustration was the product of two things, one emotional and and other artistic.

1) Emotionally, I simply didn't know how to manage my feelings.

If I didn't like something I didn't know how to "feel the feeling" and let it go. Instead I would dwell on it and let it endlessly rot. This was truly destructive behavior that led me to perceive much of my life in a skewed way. My training only added to this. While learning how to play, I had been critical of myself for such a long time that it had become a habit and a lifestyle. 

2) Artistically, I was unfulfilled.

Beyond being unfulfilled I was sincerely confused. All around me people were telling me that I was successful but I didn't feel that way. I didn't even feel like a real artist. I felt like a phony and a fraud. I also didn't feel like I understood music. I felt like someone who could reproduce anything written on the page yet I couldn't create myself. This was a strange feeling given that I had been around music and composers for years and during that time, I never once even thought of becoming a composer. All of those years spent in the music school circuit preparing for auditions, concerts, and juries had kept me so busy that I totally forgot why I got into music in the first place. It was creativity and the desire to express myself...

A combination of these two issues caused me to crash and I crashed hard. I couldn't take it anymore. Something felt so wrong with my life. When the smoke cleared I found myself living in a one room apartment in Brooklyn writing music.

The Void...

During my time in Brooklyn I had no real direction but I had tons of ideas. Ideas have always been the easy part for me. I have too many so it can be hard to organize them. It's one of the reasons I have excellent organizational skills. Throughout my entire life, I've had to deal with organizing the endless stream of ideas in my head.

The NYU Marimba Ensemble Performing "The Void"

Although I had very little direction I knew enough at the time to know that if I was writing music, I would need to have some of it performed for it to be "alive" and "real." I was the director of The NYU Marimba Ensemble so I brought a sketch I was working on to rehearsal for a reading. It was some music I had come up with scored for 4 marimbas, vibes, glockenspiel, xylophone, and drums. It had a drum and bass meets rock sound to it coupled with the richness of percussive concert music. Parts of it were very catchy. The music had no name at the time but upon hearing it a student of mine named Matthew Overbay (an incredible talent and musician himself) suggested that the music sounded like "The Void." It was perfect and the sketch would later become and be entitled "The Void." 

"The Void" is about my experiences attempting to redirect my life during this time. For awhile it seemed like I would write and write and nothing would happen. I would begin an idea, develop it, and then throw it away when I thought it wasn't good enough. As I've written in other posts, I began to lovingly call this process "life reset." Things went on like this for such a long time that I started to believe I had made a mistake by attempting to write music in the first place. I began to believe that something was fundamentally wrong with me. Looking back I now know that I was in "The Void." 

If only I had known that things can change. If only had known that change happens without warning. If only I had known that sometimes getting to the truth is painful. Maybe I wouldn't have suffered so much. Maybe...but who knows.

I dedicate "The Void" to all who struggle. It's important to keep at it and be patient no matter what. The fog will clear...

Copies of The Void for Percussion Ensemble by Simon Boyar can be purchased here.

Thoughts on "Love Brings Out The Best" for Solo Marimba - Life Reset

I am not a natural player. Everything I've accomplished in music has been through hard work and sacrifice. It doesn't come easy to me. I've had to embrace music as a lifestyle sometimes when I haven't wanted to. This aspect of my relationship with music has often caused very destructive behavior. Sometimes after working on a project for weeks I will get frustrated and want to throw the whole thing away. In hindsight, there is usually nothing wrong with the project. I simply was too close to it and I lost all perspective. When I started writing music I spent years going through a pattern of never finishing projects and "starting over." I came to lovingly call this process (or anti process) "life reset."

It's important to give some background on how this happened.

I was classically trained in the art of performance. I never learned how to write music...only to interpret. I could easily transition this whole article into a discussion about my thoughts and feelings surrounding this gigantic problem in our college/conservatory education structure but I will stay on topic.

Throughout my training I always felt like something was missing. I never felt truly comfortable behind my instrument. I never felt like I was performing music. Even so, Juilliard is an amazing place and I was always kept busy. As a result I never had to fully face these feelings. It was only when I graduated and began trying to make a career in the real world that I started to feel real pressure. There was true emptiness. Something was missing. Through a series of experiments and starts and stops, I eventually started creating my own music.

It's important to keep in mind that this didn't happen in a straight line. I achieved much success early on going the traditional route. I would become busy in my career and like at Juilliard, I wouldn't always have to face things in the short term. Either way time passed and ultimately all paths would always lead me back to the familiar emptiness and I would start being creative again.

Musically, I never had any trouble coming up with ideas. Going back to this concept of "life reset," it was finishing the ideas that gave me problems. I still hadn't yet learned the most valuable lesson in art and creativity, that one's work is never finished and there is no final form. Art is merely a snapshot of a captured moment. Immediately following that moment, things have already changed. The tormented artist cliche is nothing more than a person trying catch moments and chase their own tail. Most people may not even be aware of this aspect of life but the true artist is all too aware.

As a trained performer I was truly unfamiliar with the creative process and thus the pattern of "life reset" became a routine part of my existence. I wanted nothing more than to create music and share my voice with the world but I couldn't. It seemed like no matter how hard I worked and how great my ideas were, I could never quite cross the threshold of letting go and releasing my music. I would work and work, get frustrated, melt down, and start something new. As this process played itself out again and again I found myself unable to keep up with the creative process. It was truly destroying my creativity. It was truly destroying me. As a result of this destructive cycle, over a 5 year period I developed a large body of work that had almost never been heard. The old adage "if a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it does it make a sound?" seems to apply here.

What's worse than all of this is that I had actually convinced myself that what I was doing was a good thing. That somehow, I was just improving my work and getting it to the point where it was "ready." Unfortunately, it would never be ready. I was stuck in an infinitely torturous cycle.

Around this time I met my future wife Danna Pero. She had the quote pictured by Austrian Poet Rainer Maria Rilke framed and displayed in her cottage in Croton. We still have it in our house today.  She strongly urged me to absorb the meaning.

Rainer Maria Rilke

The message would ultimately resonate with me but not without resistance on my part. I had spent so many years focusing a metaphorical magnifying glass on my work and caught in my destructive cycle that I had become convinced that working in that way was a part of who I was. I would latch on to creative ideas and not allow them to breathe. I thought that by doing that I was controlling the process. In reality I was strangling it. Any suggestion otherwise was for hippies and phony spiritual beings.

As time passed I eventually began to see the truth. My own focus was merely self hatred disguised as standard seeking. If I could learn to let things go from time to time (and love myself enough to do it) I could get some distance and perspective, come back to them fresh and finish the job...at least as much as finishing any sort of art is possible. I began working in a different way. If I became frustrated or if I couldn't finish an idea, I would relax my thoughts and let it go. The main difference here is that I would trust that the answer would reveal itself to me. I would trust the universe and live my way into the answer instead of forcing it.

This is essence of "Love Brings Out The Best." In order to trust the universe and trust that answers will come without being forced, one must learn to love themselves. Trust is nearly impossible without love. It didn't happen overnight but when I stopped holding on to things and began to trust, I was finally able to start releasing music.

Trust the universe and don't force things

"Love Brings Out The Best" is a meditation on the principles that finally allowed me to turn the corner. The slow melody at the beginning is a churning of change. The explosive ending is a full release of unshackled passion. FINALLY!!!

Copies of Love Brings Out The Best for solo marimba by Simon Boyar may be purchased here.

Thoughts on "Never Ever Knowing" for Solo Marimba

One of the most moving performances of "Never Ever Knowing" was a Veteran's Administration Breakfast sponsored by Hospice.  During this performance, I had the opportunity to perform for over 300 Veterans.  It was a true honor and a privilege.  As I was playing the thought crossed my mind that I never intended "Never Ever Knowing" to have a connection to military service but I suppose the connection is inevitable.

The artistic journey is one of introspection and self reflection.  Art mirrors life and the events that happen to us.  I composed the melody to "Never Ever Knowing" two days after my Grandpa Leo died in 2012.  He was a WWII Veteran.  Although when I was growing up he was a big part of my life, as an adult we lost touch.  This happened for a number of different reasons but by the time he passed away I felt like I really didn't know him very well.

I composed the melody for "Never Ever Knowing" two days after my Grandpa Leo died

My grandfather was a man of few words and often misunderstood.  He was a very nice and loving man but he didn't like to talk about his feelings.  I remember one of the few conversations we had during my twenties when I asked him about his service.  I specifically asked him about fighting in the Pacific.  I suppose I wanted him to give me some generic heroic account of the war.  Instead he gave me a sober history lesson (stuff I already knew from school) and preceded to avoid directly telling me about his own experience and the things he had to do.  He only told me that war is terrible and everyone had to do their duty.  At the time, it was just what people his age had to do.  I got the sense he wasn't comfortable with it but he was at peace with "being uncomfortable."  That was it.  The conversation was over.

The Greatest Generation was called upon to serve.  They didn't have a choice.  At the onset of early adulthood immediately following the great depression, many would go to war and the experiences they had would color their lives forever.   They were expected to save the world, see terrible things, and then come home and raise a family.  Many of these men were expected to carry this burden alone without any help.  They may have been welcomed home as heroes but the times were different.  Therapy and psycho social services weren't mainstream and they weren't encouraged.  Although some may have sought counseling, most felt that they were expected to get over it. Any issues and feelings they had about what they had done were buried.  The fight continued for many of these men silently for years to come.

This is who my grandfather was.  He was a man of his time who's early life and subsequent personality after was defined by his early experiences.  As a result, there were many things that he just couldn't share.  I think he carried a lot of that with him during his life and when he died he probably took a lot of that with him as well.

My grandfather was sometimes misunderstood.  It's society's issue.  We are sometimes conditioned to think that people who don't wear their feelings on their sleeve are somehow "disconnected" and "less human."  This couldn't be further from the truth.  To carry a silent burden and yet go on to raise a successful family and build a life through hardship is quite human.  Life must go on and for my grandfather it did!

There were several times I went to see my grandfather in the years before he passed away.  I saw a kind, loving and caring man.  He was simply a man of his time and like so many in his generation he just couldn't share certain things and cater to certain feelings.  I understand and respect that. As a child he gave me the love he had and I loved him. I really miss him and wish I was more present for him as an adult.

We all experience loss and it effects our interpersonal relationships. "Never Ever Knowing" is a reflection on this.  We may wish things were different and want those close to us to act in certain ways but it's not our place to judge.  People in our lives pass away.  They take with them things we'll never know.  Joys and regrets and things left unsaid.  We might wish that things would be different but such is the path of being.

"Never Ever Knowing" is a call for understanding the trials and tribulations of one's life before passing judgement.  It is a call for compassion.  

Copies of Never Ever Knowing for solo marimba by Simon Boyar may be purchased here.

Thoughts on "Reset" For Solo Marimba by Simon Boyar

As more and more music flows out of Boyar Music Studios, I feel it's important to keep a dialogue going about the meaning (and to some extent the construction) of what's already been released. This creates opportunities for performers of my music to learn more about it and it deepens their own personal experience.  It also helps to keep the music alive, interesting, and fresh.

"Reset' is a marimba solo I released back in September 2014.  It is the first published release to come out of my publishing and production company Boyar Music Studios.

What Is It?

Reset may be perceived in many ways to be a giant experiment with rock music on the marimba.   I wouldn't agree with that assessment but I would understand the sentiment.  Groove music on the marimba is often given a bad name.  This has a lot to do with the general quality of the groove music that had already been written.  With that said, I would propose the following question.  If I was able to take "simple" music and apply my background and influences to it what would it sound like?  It would sound like Reset.  The beauty of Reset isn't in it's harmonic and melodic complexity like so many other marimba masterworks.  In many ways I am simply treating the marimba like a drum set.  This is much different than "marimba groove music" which tends to rely on patterns that are uniquely idiomatic for the marimba.  Much of my influence on the marimba can be attributed to my background in drum set and Reset is no exception.

When a copy of Reset is purchased, the performer receives an "about page."  The following quotes are a few excerpts from the "about page" of Reset.  I then delve a little deeper.  

"Reset is a short work for solo marimba featuring the player's speed, stamina, and edge.  It is a work of moderate difficulty that takes the form of a high intensity sprint."

To insure a successful performance experience, there are several technical tenets the performer of "Reset" will need to master.

Speed

Reset is a fast high intensity work.  The performer must possess the ability to play fast without tension.  Without sounding repetitive I will reiterate that it is not an accident that Reset almost feels like playing drums on the marimba. Drumming is my background and sometimes (not always) when I set out to write for the marimba, it can take the form of drumming.  What the performer must take from this is that speed alone is not enough.  The performer must be able to play fast in a relaxed way with an established groove.

Stamina

Stamina is the ability to play for extended periods of time without a break.

Although short, "Reset" contains few breaks.  If the player finds themselves clenching and hurting to finish Reset, stamina is an issue.  My suggestion to improve stamina is based on a method shown to me many years ago by Joe Morello.

First you will pick a comfortable tempo that you are able to play the whole piece from start to finish without missing notes and especially without pain or feeling tension of any sort.  It may be embarrassingly slow and that's totally ok.  Once this tempo is established, run-through the work several times.  Focus on your breathing, posture, and relaxing the pressure in your hands.  You will run-through the work until you feel 100% confident that you can comfortably make it through without missing.  Every phrase and technique must be absolutely comfortable and relaxed.  This is a literal statement!

Once you have achieved this you will repeat the process the following day only with one minor change.  You will increase the original tempo by ONLY 1 metronome marking per minute.  You will then go through the process all over again.  At this slow but steady pace, you should clear about 5 bpm per week.

This is an extremely slow and deliberate process but over time, you will see real progress.  Your ability to play for long periods of time at a fast tempo without feeling tension or pain will be alleviated.

Edge

There's a place where it's possible to play right on the sonic edge of harshness without crossing the line.  My suggestion for Reset is to find this place.  The marimba's keys are made of living breathing rosewood.  It's malleable but not infinitely malleable.  You must discover it's breaking point and play on  that edge.  I've spent a lot of time as a player developing this ability.

"Reset is a metaphor for wiping the slate clean in the pursuit of excellence.  Though well intentioned it has the potential to become a truly destructive force of nature.  Music is a living organism in a constant state of change and flux.  One must accept that there is not and will never be a "final form."

There is nothing wrong with the pursuit of excellence.  Most successful performers will strive to be the best they can be.  However, when it becomes something that ultimately prevents one's work from coming to fruition it must be kept in check.  There is no final form in music.  Seeking one is a dangerous game (at least it was for me).  I don't want to sound too definitive here but for personal reasons I felt like I had to write about this common creative experience.  It's this very self destructive thing that prevented me from releasing my music for way too long!

With that said, for better or worse "Reset" is my creation.  It teeters on the brink of being just close enough to self destruction.  When I was first writing and performing Reset I would often feel like it would go so fast and there would be so much energy put out that it would just derail.  I feel this is an appropriate analogy to my true creative process.  I am often always just on the cusp of crossing the line and exhausting myself.  Learning to balance this aspect of my personality has always been the crux of my journey in the creative arts.  In many ways my company Boyar Music Studios represents my ability to find an inner balance and finally "produce" my work.

Copies of Reset for solo marimba by Simon Boyar may be purchased here.

Creating Arrangements and Rainbow Ripples 1.0

Necessity is the mother of invention.  I was not trained in the basic skills of arranging music or music composition. I was a performance major.  My interest wasn't sparked in these areas until after school when I went out into the "real world" and tried to make a career in music.  Performing for general audiences changed the way I played. I realized almost immediately that although I had a world class education from The Juillliard School and I could technically play anything, I would need to invest time in developing new creative skill sets in order to reinvent myself.  While I still had all of the extremely high standards I learned from my education and background, I began to think a lot more about the performances themselves and how I could begin to use my expertly crafted "technique" to expand my performances. Thus began a journey for me that ultimately led to developing basic skills in arranging and composition.

Now ten years later looking back, most of what I've learned has been through trial and error.  I learned on the job in a way that was the complete opposite of how I was taught in traditional music school.   I started with ideas and very little skill but over time I was slowly able to develop new abilities.  

In this article I will discuss some of the skills I use when arranging. I will then discuss a project I am currently working on.  I hope this article will bring clarity to the aspiring performing artist who may be interested in expanding into arranging and composition.

I would like to clarify that in this article I will sometimes be using the terms "arranger" and "composer" interchangeably.  This is because at least in my personal process of developing these abilities, I have found that they both contain many similarities.  For proper execution they both require an absolute fluency in musical language.  With that said I fully recognize that both are separate and unique specializations to many musicians.

The Process

Here are several pillars in my process that I believe should be explored and mastered when attempting to arrange and rework a piece of music.

1) Develop fluency in the music. Learn the music and embrace the process of Recomposition.

The process of arranging simply begins with learning the music.  I urge you to review my article "The Process of Recomposition" to familiarize yourself with my definition of "learning the music." It's very important to "Recompose" the piece in order to develop fluency.  Your fluency will be one of the primary tools used that allows you to develop ideas off of the original material.  Without fluency your ideas may not have a grounded point of reference and they may not make sense.  It takes a lot of hard work and dedication but you absolutely must develop fluency to be successful at arranging.  

2) Try and be creative. "Learn" to let ideas flow

Once you are fluent try and be creative.  Notice how I wrote "learn" to let ideas flow.  While for some people musical ideas come naturally, others may have to work at it especially if you are trained in the current music education environment.  

This comes differently to people.  There aren't any right and wrong answers here.  There are only ideas and some work better than others.  None are perfect.  There is no such thing as a "perfect idea."  Perfection is only the "state of mind" one must attain for ideas to flow and connect to one another.  Within that state of mind there are only infinite possibilities and no dead ends.  

3) Once ideas are flowing be open to changing them (or letting them evolve)

This is very difficult.  As concert performers trained in this historical period of "over recorded" music, we are taught both directly and indirectly that music must ultimately take some sort of "final form." This couldn't be further from the truth.  In many ways, the process of developing compositional and arranging skill sets can simply be defined as "breaking free" of this fundamentally destructive mindset.  The creative process is never finished.  You will never be finished.  Embrace this mindset!

4) Don't throw things away

This is a common problem among beginners.  Young composer/arrangers may feel that their early attempts at writing or arranging are worthless and since newer examples are "better," the older ones should end up in the trash.  While I don't dispute that composers evolve, I've found that sometimes an idea that comes out may simply not be good for the current project at hand. However, it may be useful for future projects.   Don't throw anything away!  Always keep in mind that nobody is as "close" to your music as you.  You may not have as clear a perspective as you think!  Only time brings clarity.  Allow the process to happen and don't throw things away.  

5) Don't be afraid

I've always found that one of the primary factors holding back aspiring arrangers and composers from being as creative as possible is their own insecurities and beliefs in common music myths. Students are inclined to believe statements like "I am not a composer," "I don't know anything about arranging" or especially "I am not trained in it therefore I can't do it."  Trying is half the battle. You may find that at first you don't have a lot of ideas but if you stay with it and you know the music well enough you should be able to come up with something eventually.  It is completely natural and organic but it requires an open state of mind and it truly takes time.  Be patient and keep at it!


Now that I've spent a little bit of time examining the process, we will take a look at how it relates specifically to one of my current projects.  Rainbow Ripples 1.0 is a work in progress. As new iterations are released and this series of articles continues you will see me relying more and more on the the things I mention in the process above.

Rainbow Ripples 1.0

Over the years I have possibly performed the solo xylophone part (on marimba) to "Rainbow Ripples" by G.H Green hundreds of times.  It's always worked well on the marimba as an encore piece for a general audience.  However, I've also always felt that more could be done with it (in addition to playing the piece with piano or mallet keyboard accompaniment).  I would often try and stretch the solo section and improvise over the chords. After that, I would try taking certain sections at different tempi and changing things up here and there.  The great thing about Rainbow Ripples and ragtime in general is that the music naturally lends itself well to improvisation.  This makes it easy to expand sections and write simple theme and variations off of the original material.  

Why 1.0?

I thought it would be productive to share my process for educational purposes.  The creative process sometimes happens all at once but it also sometimes happens in tiers.  I find this especially true when arranging a work I've played a great deal in the past.  I wanted to put a video up but I wasn't sure where the process would take me.  Once I became aware the project would have tiers, I decided to entitle the first iteration 1.0.

Ragtime

For this project I first spent some time thinking about ragtime music from a pedagogical perspective.  This may seem strange but why not?  This is in fact how so many of us percussionists around the world are introduced to this music.  I was not necessarily inspired to play the xylophone or marimba from listening to G.H Green Rags.  Like many, I came to them only after I decided to begin learning how to play mallet keyboard instruments.  

Any serious mallet keyboard player has some experience with this music even if it's only from learning one or two rags.  I don't profess to be an expert in ragtime music but I have my background and experience to draw from as well as countless performances for audiences around the country and the world.  

From a pedagogical perspective performing ragtime can be a challenging yet fun way to improve on mallet keyboard percussion instrument fundamentals.  Whether or not you are a true fan of the music, performing ragtime accomplishes several important things. 

1) It fixes a wealth of basic technical 2 mallet issues

From double stops, to scales, to arpeggios this music is full of useful tools to address "the basics." You'll learn how to play and develop true accuracy and fluency via tonal "easy to hear" music.  

2) Ragtime teaches finesse and touch

Learning to play the beautiful lines in ragtime definitely requires a light touch and a true ability to create a line.  (see my article "Creating Lines of Music on Mallet Keyboard Instruments") However, I'm especially thinking about the double stops here.  It's so difficult to truly learn how to play double stops together in a rag without squeezing, controlling, and contorting the phrase. Developing this technique while retaining true intentional phrasing (see my article "Accidental vs. Intentional" Phrasing) is truly a challenge best learned in ragtime.  

3) It teaches improvisation

If you learn ragtime the correct way, then you will not only learn the written music but you will learn the chords that form the musical scaffolding and you will then attempt improvisation.  In my opinion learning ragtime without spending some time discussing improvisation is not as valuable an experience and simply learning the notes.  

4) It has major historical relevance

Percussion overall as a major art form is still relatively new but ragtime and xylophone are a major part of 20th century American history.  When taking an unbiased survey of all of the 2 mallet literature, some of it is good but much of it is only "decent" at best.  On the other hand the works of G.H Green and other ragtime music is stylized and clear.  This music has paid its dues and been proven.  It will teach you much about what works and what doesn't work on the xylophone, marimba, and beyond.

Breakdown of Rainbow Ripples 1.0 

or...what I have so far

Although as I pointed out above Rainbow Ripples works well as an encore piece as written, I would often find myself wanting to use it in other places on my program.  This is because the sheer variety of shows I play requires me to constantly tweak my presentation to fits the needs of different situations.  One size fits all rarely works for me.

With this in mind I tried to expand the work to make it more of a show piece that told a slightly larger story filled with more dramatic ups and downs.  Rainbow Ripples 1.0 is nothing more than the beginning or skeletal structure of that process.  It is the first iteration of my solo arrangement of Rainbow Ripples so there's not much here yet. Just the planting of a few ideas that will certainly grow.

-I started by creating a short introduction using the dominant D7 chord.  This replaces the sudden start of the piece as written.  There is nothing wrong with the standard introduction, this is just a different way of doing it.

-The original material is then stated at least once for good measure.  After the original material is stated, I expand the idea the 2nd time around.  I expand the idea by turning the original material from 16th notes to sextuplets and then working my way up the instrument using bent G Major chords.  I then run down the instruments in arpeggiated G7 32nd note passages.  This makes things a bit more interesting for the listener.  

-The next transition is as written into the solo section.  I have altered this section quite a bit by turning it into a 12-bar Blues with a transition bringing the section to a close.  I've been hearing it this way for a long time.  In Rainbow Ripples 1.0 this idea is so far extremely undeveloped so I am basically improvising and yes...I am well aware the time is basically non existent at this point.  

-I am currently trying to turn the ending into a sort of meltdown where everything comes together again and gets faster and faster until it crashes (or melts down) once again.  Instead of going right into the ending section I include a short G7 cadenza and then improvise a little bit in a slow tempo around the ending theme's chord progression.  I then fully state the end theme one time down an octave.  Finally, a glissando brings me to the ending theme at full tempo with a slight accelerando to the end.  

-I conclude the piece with a fermata on C7 into CMaj and a giant rit. gliss up and down the instrument.

In a nutshell

So in a nutshell what I've tried to do here is turn "Rainbow Ripples" into more of a total musical journey.  I took a great piece of music by a great composer and started the process of weaving a tale around it.  Let's see where the journey goes...