Film scoring reel
Across a few sessions at NYU, I recorded live with orchestral ensembles of all sizes, and very much learned the difference between a carefully planned, intricate lattice of chords on a piece of paper and what real people play when you hand it to them.
At home at my desk, it was all about balancing density and clarity on the page — orchestration is mixing is arranging is composing, and it’s all in service of speaking clearly. But the performers are the mouthpiece. At the recording sessions, it instantly became clear that the individuality and expressiveness of the performers was the most powerful force in the room, and that letting them be them is what makes a piece come alive.
In A Conversation about Longing (0:45) I let myself get away with complexity and unsettledness, so much so that it became the point of the piece. I love that there’s a greater-than-the-sum-of-the-parts quality that emerges when you let go of control like that. Everybody’s playing their hearts out here. I thought I’d be writing for technicians, and instead got to hand my music to this group of irreducible artists, and the piece is better for it.
Moving Through (2:09) was an attempt to swing in the other direction and build a piece around simplicity, focus, and texture. It would have dynamics and emotionality, yeah, but maybe fewer than a thousand inner voices. Before recording, the first violinist came up and asked me if I wanted that solo line played “romantic,” and I agreed before really knowing what she meant because why not?? She then made nuanced choices about her playing that I couldn’t possibly have, and the line emerged beautifully from the orchestra’s blended straight-tone sound.
Soar (excerpt at 3:57) prompted me to ask myself: which of all your ideas do you need to be heard, and how will you make sure they are?
