Australian Composers Orchestral Forum provides emerging composers the opportunity to work with a professional symphony orchestra
ACOF 2003 Participant - Andrian Pertout
Andrian Pertout's L'assaut sur la raison was a composition written for ACOF 2003.
...Philosophically, the work represents not only a personal statement in condemnation of the general act of war, but a collective reaction encompassing the artistic world at large...
Program Notes - L’assaut sur la raison
L'assaut sur la raison was composed for the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra as part of the 2003 Australian Composers' Orchestral Forum – a joint project of Symphony Australia, the Australian Music Centre and the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra with assistance from the Commonwealth Government through the Arts Council, it’s arts funding and advisory body.
Philosophically, the work represents not only a personal statement in condemnation of the general act of war, but a collective reaction encompassing the artistic world at large. In time L'assaut sur la raison will be incorporated into a multi-movement symphonic work – essentially a war symphony – with this first movement although directly inspired by the 2003 Iraq war, also intended of having a connection with more general world events, and the illogical thought process behind war, hence 'The assault on reason'.
In the first ACOF (Australian Composers' Orchestral Forum) diary entry of May, 2003 the composer states: "I began to think about what was emotionally driving me, and could see that just like many other people around the globe my grey matter was being seriously disturbed by the current oil rush. I began to think about how I could express my disillusionment in mankind, and decided that I could best do this via the protest words L'assaut sur la raison or simply, 'The assault on reason'."
The issues then revisited in the third diary entry of August, 2003 with the following comments: "In my first diary entry I spoke of the desire to 'express my disillusionment in mankind' via the protest words L'assaut sur la raison. Have some of the philosophical issues of war, its initiating framework, and what I termed as 'The assault on reason' been adequately addressed by the music? Most probably not, as the brutality of war and the actual preceding mindset – of the protagonists of war, which is what 'The assault on reason' was primarily concerned with – can never be musically interpreted with the appropriate amount of dignity and conviction. It may be simple to say that the colour of blood is red, but is the colour red musically speaking, a particular collection of exclusive pitches, a formulated harmonic language, or an impressionistic musical landscape dedicated to the depiction of the anguish that this kind of inhumanity no doubt delivers? And to complicate matters even further, what colour is the foreword, or overture? Is it some lesser degree of magenta and yellow in the process colour spectrum of cyan, magenta, yellow and black?"
Composition Diary - May 2003
As we spark up the compositional process, just how much of our credibility we are willing to gamble upon this brand new day of inspiration is always a difficult decision to make. Art is a lot easier to value retrospectively, and of course when art does not please us in our tomorrows we can always chose to distance ourselves from our past.
In these twilight hours the initial question I ask myself is what form should this 'masterpiece' take? Masterpiece, because in my eyes every new piece is a masterpiece - this temporary illusion is my driving force. And my search for direction usually begins with a title, because it is this very title that will establish the essential character of my piece. I heard Japanese composer Karen Tanaka once say that once she has conceived the title, she has virtually composed the piece, because this will give her most of the musical structure. I too strongly believe in this, and so unless the title is at the very least hidden at the back of my mind I will not commit one note to paper (well, that's the theory, in practice things may change).
In order to receive this valuable sign from the Gods, I began to think about what was emotionally driving me, and could see that just like many other people around the globe my grey matter was being seriously disturbed by the current oil rush. I began to think about how I could express my disillusionment in mankind, and decided that I could best do this via the protest words L'assaut sur raison or simply, The assault on reason. The next task being to then find the pitch material with the right qualities to express the orchestra playing inside my head. After a thorough auditioning process I rested upon the following two-octave scale: G, A flat, B flat, (B natural), C sharp, D, (E flat), F, (F sharp), G, G sharp, A, B, (B flat), C sharp, D, E flat, F, (F sharp). The notes in brackets representing acceptable deviations from the pure form - altered during the actual compositional process for practical reasons, and also, to bring about resolutions to certain harmonization dilemmas. My rhythmic experiments on the other hand taking me into the realm of additive rhythms, with some very interesting results achieved via the adoption of a 5/8 meter augmented by the additions of 3, 4, 5, 6, and then 7 quavers in an expanding and contracting sequence. Literally: 5/8; 5/8, 3/8; 5/8, 7/8 (3/8 + 2/4); 5/8, 7/8, 5/8; 5/8, 7/8, 5/8, 3/4; 5/8, 7/8, 5/8, 3/4, 7/8; 5/8, 7/8, 5/8, 3/4; 5/8, 7/8, 5/8; 5/8, 7/8; 5/8, 3/8; and 5/8.
All of a sudden my creation has emerged, which as usual is developing into something that is little related to my initial idea, but I am learning to live with it, and will try hard to accept it for what it is, as I always resist the temptation of generating a false start…
Composition Diary - July 2003
Three lunar cycles have passed, and much has changed since the initiation of L'assaut sur la raison for Symphony Orchestra. First of all, it has been discovered (via the noble assistance of Melbourne-based pianist Glenn Riddle, who happens to be a fluent French speaker) that "you can't have a noun in French without some sort of preceding article", and therefore it is now evident that L'assaut sur raison (the first French translation to "The Assault on Reason") was plain and simply wrong. Also, the oil rush - the inaugural emotional driving force - is no longer on the world's agenda; the matter having been resolved in the usual civilized way - with a good punch in the face.
On the philosophical front, direction has also presented itself as a difficult issue, since the expected destination (the masterpiece) becomes ever more illusive. At very close proximity is that dangerous phase of self-realization - the closing chapter - when that reassuringly comfortable period of self-delusion is finally declared over. "Better luck next time," I now say with a sense of déjà vu.
Although, on a more positive note, the work has managed to unfold very much in line with my usual aesthetic predilections, opting for "power and glory" rather than "enervation and triviality". I wanted to create a compositional platform that would allow me to "activate" (switch on) the Tasmanian Symphony, and at one hundred and ninety-eight beats per minute, or three-hundred and ninety-six quavers per minute there is no doubt in my mind that this will happen, although the experience may produce a sense of aggravation rather than alleviation, unless "challenge" is the word of the day. But no, interest was the primary goal, as the work remains relatively simple - a two-note motive (transposed up and down) being at the essence of its organizational principles.
Numerous orchestration challenges have presented themselves along the way, with one experience in particular proving that complicated counterpoint can inadvertently result in bad music, and that the alternative simple solution can sometimes provide the answer. My rhythmic experiments have been further developed, with the adoption of schemes that I can't even explain (well, of course I can, but really need time to think about them). These techniques not necessarily resulting in hair-raising acrobatics, but providing subtle nuances to the rhythmic landscape. Admirably, I have remained fairly faithful to my two-octave scale (with acceptable deviations from the pure form), although on several occasions did turn a blind eye to some minor breaches of the code of conduct (I took on the attitude of a politician, and cheated here and there in other words).
The duration (the specified five minutes) being short has not necessarily made for easy composition as masterful control over total content, whether it happens to be one minute or twenty minutes is always difficult to achieve. Longer pieces also seem to provide the option of slower thematic development, whereas limited time tends to mean that a lot must be stated "quickly and convincingly". From its very onset, the piece therefore expected to impact on the audience, with its premature exit filled with as much impressionable grandeur.
Composition Diary - August 2003
The month of August marks yet another lunar cycle into the quest of perfection for L'assaut sur la raison for Symphony Orchestra but it can be finally said that the work is in its conclusive stages of production, as most aspects of any great musical importance have now been dealt with and transformed into black and white matter. The majority of the process will from hereon address more subtle aesthetic concerns. Was it all smooth sailing? In a recent documentary a composer expressed the sentiment that, "People's assumption of the compositional process is that it's all about satisfaction, enchantment and pleasure, when the truth is closer to a journey full of frustration, disillusionment and pain." I can relate to this observation, because although the act of 'composing music' has generally not posed a serious problem for me, the machinery of imagination nevertheless still manages to put up a pretty good fight! You have to drag some of it out by the hair, literally.
In my first diary entry I spoke of the desire to "express my disillusionment in mankind" via the protest words L'assaut sur la raison. Have some of the philosophical issues of war, its initiating framework, and what I termed as "The Assault on Reason" been adequately addressed by the music? Most probably not, as the brutality of war and the actual preceding mindset - of the protagonists of war, which is what "The Assault on Reason" was primarily concerned with - can never be musically interpreted with the appropriate amount of dignity and conviction. It may be simple to say that the colour of blood is red, but is the colour red musically speaking, a particular collection of exclusive pitches, a formulated harmonic language, or an impressionistic musical landscape dedicated to the depiction of the anguish that this kind of inhumanity no doubt delivers? And to complicate matters even further, what colour is the foreword, or overture? Is it some lesser degree of magenta and yellow in the process colour spectrum of cyan, magenta, yellow and black? My intentions are now to compose a further two associative movements that will hopefully shed some light on the matter, although I have no doubt that the answers to these questions will in spite of further research remain unanswered.
From the theoretical viewpoint, every new orchestral composition yields one more experience towards the life cycle of the composer (and having so far outlived the life cycle of Mozart as well as those of many of his contemporaries, things are looking good). It is interesting to note however that the craft of composition is an ongoing commitment to an excellence that may never be fully acquired, as being of an infinite nature, the level of excellence we seek may forever elude us. Just as we begin to feel that we are finally reaching some kind of peak in our development we enter yet another phase of the continuum. It will be most satisfying to hear the results of this current project in December where together with the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra my work will be evaluated and either given the "OK" or simply discarded as one more piece of 'not-quite-right' art. Time will tell…
Composition Diary - January 2004
January, 2004 finally here, and the successes and failures of L'assaut sur la raison for symphony orchestra in 2003 now something to reminisce about. In an opening statement I would like to express my deep and sincere thanks to the tutors, Brenton Broadstock and Andrew Schultz; the composers, David Chisholm, Alicia Grant, Padma Newsome, Daniel Salecich and Jane Stanley; the Australia Music Centre staff members, Meghan Fitzgerald and John Davis; and of course conductor Kenneth Young and the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra for an artistically (and socially) rich week in Hobart in December, 2003.
One of the first performance dilemmas to emerge in day one of the workshop was in relation to tempo - the musical feasibility of 198 crotchets per minute, or the equivalent alternatives of 132 dotted crotchets and/or 396 quavers per minute. The strings having to play continuous sixteenth-note ostinati at the prescribed tempo was unpopular and was initially rejected as unplayable, although Kenneth Young admirably agreed to start at around 150 crotchets per minute with a plan to accelerate the pace in the coming days. The third day then bringing about a certain willingness by the orchestra to attempt a faster tempo, and with this musical excursion a compromise of around 170 beats per minute was achieved. It is interesting to note that after revealing the irony of my compositional thought to Kenneth - that the tempo marking for L'assaut sur la raison or The Assault on Reason was definitely unreasonable, and that this was the whole point - a new understanding was reached.
The Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra was a wonderful orchestra to collaborate with. I was extremely impressed with the enthusiasm from the players, and especially with their willingness to not only accept difficult passages, but to also tackle the many challenges with a clear aim of achieving acceptable performance outcomes. It was definitely a fantastic experience working with such a nice, friendly and professional orchestra, and having Brenton Broadstock and Andrew Schultz (two fine composers) around an added bonus, as we were able to consider suggestions and actually implement them by then fine tuning our scores and parts. Kenneth Young's role as mediator throughout this process conducted with style. Finally, I would have to say that it was also extremely rewarding to have been given the opportunity to spend time with a great bunch of talented upcoming composers.
