Doctoral Dissertations--Composition (DM)
Permanent link for this collectionhttps://hdl.handle.net/2022/14079
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Item Shadows(2012-05-02) Dellinger, SueItem Item strain and stress of a line(2012-10-18) Williamson, Gordon, 1974-Item Music from elsewhere: orchestra(2012-12-13) Groffman, JoshuaItem Jim, Jimi, and James(2013-04-26) Lubell, Gabriel, 1983-Item Icarus(2013-05-09) Lindsay, Eric, 1980-Discussions about music, as with those about life, often circle around the idea of goal-directed motion. In these conversations, many of the metaphors we use to describe directionality can apply across contexts—stasis vs. transition, cycles of repetition vs. developing variation, drive vs. aimlessness, and so on. Similarly, many of us tend to attribute these labels to our perception of a piece’s agency, anthropomorphizing musical gestures as though they were characters on a journey. My objective in Icarus was to reflect on the symbiosis between the transitions we undergo in and outside of the listening experience. (As a personal aside, this piece was written at a time when the clearly delineated goals of academia gave way to the uncertain ones that dictate what comes next in life.) Like the mercurial transitions that connect the primary and secondary theme areas in late-Romantic sonatas, what was once the obvious end-goal now becomes one of several alternative, often-conflicting possibilities, conjuring a state of unrest and instability. Making decisions in a world of increasing opportunities is the spice of life... yes, except for that moment where competing internal dichotomies seem to keep life from moving forward. I sometimes liken this juncture to Icarus’ leap from the tower high above the cliffs of Crete, where Icarus fashioned his own fall by disastrously letting an opposing agent—hubris—distract him from the goal of flight. The language of this piece is itself a reflection of these tensions, born of an effort to rally notions of personal fulfillment, voice, style, substance and intuition together into a showcase and distillation of all I’ve ever learned. This state is reflected, too, in the musical gestures themselves, where repeated sections (or "ritornelli") are pushed and pulled by various ingredients within the material fighting for greater prominence. With each structural repetition, the goal of a passage is colored by the implications of alternatingly prominent rhythmic, metric and/or harmonic characteristics. The end result is a collection of earnest, opposing ambitions—blazing forward while always threatening to rip the whole apart at the seams.Item Yook-I-O (6-2-5): Korean war letters(2013-05-14) Bark, Elliott, 1980-Item Organism(2013-11-25) Miller, Timothy, 1981-Item Dans l'espoir de ce jour(2013-12-20) Kingsland, Chappell, 1980-A setting of a poem by Léopold Sédar Senghor for baritone and chamber orchestra.Item Interstellar arias(2014-05-06) Snethkamp, Steven, 1982-Item Worlds without end(2014-05-08) Taylor, Benjamin, 1983-A work for full orchestra with a duration of nine minutes by Benjamin Taylor. As a composition, Worlds Without End is a one-movement work that stands as a tribute to God, the Creator of us all. As Dieter Uchtdorf, a counselor in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints asserted, "Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty." I echo this sentiment. For me, the act of composing music brings peace, a sense of worth, greater meaning to my life, and ultimately makes me happy. I would not do it if I did not have fun! But creation is work, and each composition presents a unique set of challenges and problems I must overcome. The prolific composer Frank Ticheli once said, “No two pieces are composed in the same way, and with every new piece I must learn the creative process all over again.” I certainly felt this way while composing Worlds Without End. More so than with any of my other works, this composition has involved a gradual, slow process of formation. The act of generating musical materials, testing ideas, editing sections, refining orchestration, changing proportions, and notating the music has taken literally hundreds of hours. While at times frustrating and stressful, the composition process has ultimately been extremely rewarding as it has given me the chance to develop and grow as a creator. The scriptural account of the creation of the earth has long been an inspiration to me as an artist. As I observe the world around me, I marvel at God's creation. The breadth of variety in animal and plant life; the beauty and majesty of forests, oceans, and mountains; the endlessness of stars, planets, and celestial bodies; and the complexity and power of the human body – all stand as supreme examples and inspiration to me when I embark on the artistic path of being a composer. And yet, we learn from scripture that our earth is but a small part of the wondrous creation. God revealed to his prophet Moses that he created worlds "without end." (Moses 1:4) God said, "And worlds without number have I created; . . . and by the Son I created them, which is mine Only Begotten." (Moses 1:33) Wow, this amazes me! Worlds without number? Worlds without end? I can't even fathom such an infinite number of creations. As I wrote Worlds Without End, I thought of it as mirroring the creation process of a universe. The piece begins with a sparsely orchestrated melodic line which conveys unorganized gases and particles of matter slowly starting to coalesce in space. Further materials are added and ordered. There are many large explosions throughout the piece as matter combines and recombines, sometimes violently, other times in a mysterious or quirky manner. The climax of the work represents the culmination of the creative process, where all the ideas now finally fit together and are resolved harmonically. The conclusion of the composition brings back materials from the opening, representing the cyclical nature of creation as all matter passes through the rhythm of life, death, and rebirth.Item Beetles, dragons, & dreamers: for orchestra(2014-05-08) Eötvös, Melody, 1984-Item Ghost of the machine(2014-05-14) Chase, Ryan, 1987-Item Valley of dry bones(2014-05-23) Ahn, Sang Mi, 1979-Item The world of tomorrow(2014-12-16) Renk, Chris, 1983-"The World of Tomorrow" is a 2013 work by Chris Renk inspired by Art Deco aesthetics. It was commissioned by the Indiana University New Music Ensemble (David Dzubay, cnd.) after Renk was awarded the 2013 Dean's Prize for Chamber Music for his piece "Cave Paintings".Item Ko-oh(2015-05-04) Kim, Texu, 1980-Item NORI [놀이] (Play!)(2015-05-07) Chun, Yie EunItem Songs from Bedlam: for solo baritone voice and chamber orchestra(2015-05-18) Turner, Jess, 1983-Item Gonna get your soul start dancing(2016-04-19) Podgursky, JeremyItem E pluribus(Indiana University, 2017-12-06) Smith, Curtis N., 1983-This piece is about the individual and the collective, and is inspired by democracy. There are two main characters—the ocean of sound, represented most prominently by the strings—especially at the beginning and end, and a tonal chord progression that emerges gradually from the dense cluster at the beginning of the piece. The sublimation of the tonal progression into the cluster and the cluster’s interaction with the tonal progression propel the piece, delineate structure, and act as a type of embodiment for the societal shifts and interactions experienced in a democracy.
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