Finale Haiku

Last year some people wrote to the Finale mailing list with some suggested haiku poems about their favourite (or least favourite) music notation software.

Here are some of my contributions. Perhaps if you have some of your own (or perhaps even about Sibelius?), feel free to post them as comments.


Anticipation

Finale update released

Damn! More eye candy


Broken dreams: click, wait…

(Finale Selection tool)

Time to buy G5


Copy and insert,

Partial Measures selected:

Instant Ferneyhough


Teaching Finale:

“Use the time dilation tool.”

“The what…?” My heart sinks.

Interview for Faber Choral magazine (2003)

**On the spot**

Matthew Hindson is emerging as one of Australia’s foremost young composers. He studied composition at the University of Sydney and at the University of Melbourne with luminaries including Peter Sculthorpe. One of the busiest composers in Australia, he has recently joined the prestigious list of Faber Music Composers. Often displaying influences of popular music styles within a classical music context, musical elements such as driving repeated rhythms and loud dynamic levels are typically found in his works. Indeed, directness and immediacy are common features in much of his music. His piece “Home” from the choral work Heartland was recently published in the Faber New Choral Works series. Described as “…a serious musical thinker” by the Sydney Morning Herald it seemed appropriate to ask him some searching questions.


    What first made you want to compose and what were the first steps you took on your route to becoming a fully-fledged composer?

Apparently when I was about 6, my violin teacher said to my father, “Matthew doesn’t really have it here (pointing to my fingers) but he has it up here (pointing to my head), so maybe he’ll end up a composer or something one day”. So she had a good sense for these things!

My first piece was written when I was between 10 and 12 years old. After that I wrote a few smaller pieces, and was always interested in writing bits of music. When I left high school, I actually started work as a computer programmer, but was also accepted into the University of Sydney Music Department majoring in composition! I decided to give composing a go, thinking that if I didn’t like it, I could do computers again. However, I’m still working as a composer today!

    How did you feel the first time you heard one of your pieces performed?

I remember being proud and somewhat amazed. I was 12 or so the very first time someone else performed one of my works. It was a piece for the junior string orchestra in which I was playing at the time. The problem was, I didn’t know there was such a thing as a full score, so just wrote straight to the parts – and there were some bars rest missing in the cello part. So the importance of checking one’s parts was learnt very early in life!
Which individuals have inspired you most on your musical journey?

Peter Sculthorpe, Ross Edwards, Olivier Messiaen, John Adams and Brenton Broadstock. I have always made the effort to study with people whose integrity and passion for music-making has been obvious. They have been very influential. Peter’s role is largely that of a mentor. By looking at him, you see a composer who has been passionate and uncompromising about Australia and music. He has also provided an important role model to me in terms of how professional composers work. Many of my peers have also provided inspiration.

    Does the continent of Australia have any direct effect on your work? Are you consciously striving for an Australian sound?

I think that as I am Australian, having pretty much spent my entire life here, it will have had some effect on the music that I write, in the same way that Australian culture is different to many other places in the world. So I don’t strive to create an “Australian sound”, but think that it is probably there anyway. Perhaps it’s better for overseas people to make judgements on what sounds “Australian” or not!

    Does a precise commission limit creativity? Are there times when you are just not inspired?

Usually I find that a very precise commission can help to focus the compositional process. Sometimes the hardest pieces to write are those very rare commissions when someone says “do whatever you want”. There are often times when I am not inspired, but that just usually means that I’m not working hard enough, or that I need to have a good look around me and look at life in general – after all we live in a very rich and diverse world.

    Do you see yourself as on a mission to break down musical barriers?

I think that it’s tremendously important as a composer to be open to whatever influences, be they musical or otherwise, come your way. To be closed-minded is counterproductive, at least it is to me. Hence some of my music is influenced by, for example, popular music genres such as techno. It’s not so much trying to break down barriers but rather saying, “here’s some music (e.g. techno) with some very interesting characteristics” – there is no reason why I shouldn’t be able to utilise some of that interest in a piece of classical music.

    What are the challenges and rewards of writing for voices?

Writing for voices is certainly different to writing for instruments. Obviously the text angle is fantastic, as is the flexibility of what voices can do.

Having a text gives you another way to ‘get into’ writing the piece. It can lead you in a certain direction both in the initial planning stages of a composition or when you’re in the middle of writing it. Text can give you something else to hang your musical ideas on, or even inspire them in the first place. Such inspirations are always welcome!

There’s also something very fundamental about people singing together, and this aspect appeals as well. It’s like something that everyone can do, from small vocal ensembles with amazing technique (such as the Song Company here in Australia) to amateur choral societies to gigantic crowds of people singing at the football!

    How do you choose a text/texts to set? What are you looking for?

I’ve found it difficult to find appropriate texts, and from speaking to many other composers, they seem to find the same thing. One important aspect is that the text should have some sort of internal rhythm that is sympathetic to the sorts of rhythmic ideas that you can use in music. I tend to use shorter texts as, most of the time, you don’t really need much text to write a choral piece – and let’s face it, in many cases you can’t understand what’s being sung.
Can you tell us a bit about your working process – given a text, how do you go about setting it to music?

Generally I’ll have an idea of the broad musical mood that I would like to create. Then I will select a text that’s appropriate to it. The next point is usually selecting certain words or phrases from the text and creating a motive or rhythmic figure from that – then the compositional process is on its way. I also like to think about the structure of the text, and contemplate any possibilities of correspondence between the text and music in that regard.
Does writing for a specific group of voices affect the compositional process?

As with any piece, the exact forces for whom you’re writing can have a considerable effect upon the end product, especially in terms of the number of performers and their general technical ability. In the case of Heartland, I knew that I was writing for a massed choir of over 200 voices of varying ability levels, and this elicited a certain soundworld that I was interested in exploring. I listen to other repertoire, through performances that the relevant singers have made. This helps me to get a feel for what their strengths are, and hear what they find most fulfilling to sing. The group’s musical director will often give an idea about what sort of piece they’re looking for. Then I will pretty much go through the process of writing most of the piece, or maybe all of it, before giving it to the choir again. If there are any questions I will ask, but in most cases I like to get the vast bulk of the research into what will be going on in the composition before actually starting. Personally, I would find it distracting to go back and forth to the choir all the time – but that’s just me, and of course other composers work differently.

I can’t pretend to say that every piece that I write comes out perfectly the first time! Some techniques such as voicing may work better in some ways as opposed to others. If there is a way to make a piece better, then I’m all for pursuing it, and often the singers themselves can give valuable pointers in this direction.

    What are your long-term musical ambitions?

I would like to continue on the journey that composition has taken me on so far, to become the best composer that I can possibly be. I am interested in writing for ballets and maybe film, the dance aspect has already started to happen, and also write works such as concertos for a variety of instruments. I’ve been tremendously fortunate in having so many superb performers play my works, and I hope that that continues to be possible in the future. I also have a strong interest in the amateur music scene, and hope to continue to work more in this area. There is a large market available for works that can be performed by amateur musicians.

    Are you optimistic about the future of classical music and if so, why?

Here in Australia there has been a slow but inexorable shift in terms of people really coming to like, appreciate, and expect contemporary Australian music in their music-making and music-appreciation experiences. I’ve experienced concerts in regional areas with performers playing a wide variety of musical styles, and pretty much always, it is the contemporary Australian works that seem to strike a chord. So I am optimistic, in the sense that there are so many good composers now writing in a wide variety of styles. Such breadth leaves classical music very well placed into the future. There’s really something for everyone.

###11.07.03###
###Lottie Fenby###

Ellipse Article (2002)

THE SUNDAY TELEGRAPH

SUN 08 SEP 2002, Page 116

**Encore for classical composer**

By DIANA SIMMONDS

When Graeme Murphy’s new dance work, Ellipse, burst upon audiences earlier this year at the Sydney Opera House, people were electrified by the energy, excitement and freshness of the piece. The choreographer himself had already identified the source of his inspiration: the music of 33-year-old Matthew Hindson.

Lucky Sydneysiders now have an extra opportunity to experience Ellipse, this time at Parramatta’s Riverside Theatre, and the composer is chuffed.

“I found it astonishing to work with such a creative team,” Hindson says of the Sydney Dance Company experience.
“And Graeme Murphy really is a genius. I’m more an aural than a visual person, so when I saw what he’d done with my music, I couldn’t believe it.”

Classical composers are rare — there are probably more bilbies running around than there are musicians with complex orchestral scores in their heads.

Hindson has a plausible explanation for this.

“It starts from school,” he says. “We’re all taught to write, so we can imagine being a writer of a sort. But when we learn music, we don’t learn composition, we learn to play.”

Hindson was no exception. Growing up in Shellharbour, on the NSW south coast, he learned the violin and viola. But he was blessed with a special teacher.

“My first teacher was Hiroko Primrose,” he says. “She was Japanese and her husband was William Primrose, the Scottish viola virtuoso. After five lessons, she told my parents I didn’t have it in the hands, but I’d probably end up a composer.”

And so he has. Hindson is currently Musica Viva’s featured composer and he was recently signed up by the UK mega-music publisher Faber.

It’s fantastic,” Hindson explains, “because it means they’re pushing my music, so it’s starting to happen overseas for me. And I’m really lucky that I’m able to live off composing at the moment, because of commissions and so on.”

At the same time, he teaches composition two days a week at girls’ school MLC.

“I’ve been very lucky in that I always had inspirational music teachers,” he says. “And it’s changing in schools now, which is how I get to teach, I suppose. When I see what the kids come out with! The standard is extraordinary. It’s really interesting.”

Access to computer technology is something that has changed since Hindson was at school.

“Having computers as a tool means that even if you’re not really aware of theory, you can work out how to do what you want to do. I write on paper first but I use a computer to do things like check structure. A computer can make work so much quicker.”

It also means he is not restricted by the time limits of the usual three or four rehearsals with musicians before a piece is played.

“I always try to remember the people who are playing,” he says of the process.

“It’s fantastic working with an orchestra, because you’re listening to experienced musicians and that really makes a difference. But in that time, you can’t really change things significantly, which is where the computer comes in.”

The music for Ellipse is a collage of Hindson themes.

It is richly romantic as well as in-your-face ferocious, with soaring horns, heart-stopping percussion and complex rhythms and melodies.

“I loved seeing it the first time and I’m probably even more excited that it’s happening in western Sydney now,” he says.

“You know, last week when the Sydney Symphony was doing their evening of Viennese waltzes, the same night in Blacktown there was a concert of seven Australian premieres. It was fantastic.”

Many of that audience will be rushing to Parramatta, too.

Velvet Dreams

for massed SATB choir and orchestra (2222 – 4221 – timp – perc(4): tam-t/3 susp.cym/hi-hat/drum kit (BD/SD/cym/4 or 5 tom-t)/shaker/tamb/ c. bell/2 wdbl/whip/vib or mar – pno – strings)

also available in a version for SATB choir and piano.

duration: 6 minutes

Faber Music publishing details


Audio


Programme Notes

      During a period of correspondence with the reclusive Australian violist-turned-truck-driver Jock Reby, my attention was directed towards a notepad of graffiti that Reby had transcribed from the toilet walls of an English Language School in Bangkok. It seems that the students of the school had used the practice of writing on toilet walls as a means of experimenting with their English.

Consequently it contained some quite bizarre interpretations of the English Language. One piece of writing referred incessantly to “velvet dreams”, and their relationship to the writer’s missing (romantic) partner. Despite the often-unclear nature much of the text (what exactly is a “velvet dream”?), it was evident that the author felt very strongly about the subject.

This work for choir and orchestra has therefore utilised fragments of the so-called “Velvet Dreams” text, together with some extra texts written in a similar style by myself and the contemporary poet Sarah Hindson.


Programme note by Matthew Hindson


CD Recording Available?

      Not at this time. The

Australian Music Centre

    has a copy of one the live concert performances in their library.

Other Information

      Also available: also available: an educational kit based on this work has been created by Felicia Chadwick, comprising analysis and further general classroom-based activities – contact Matthew Hindson for more information on this. A copy of this kit can also be found in the

Australian Music Centre

    .

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