A Few Words from the Composer はじめに～作曲者から

A Few Words from the Composer 作曲家からの一言

I have always been fascinated with the relationship between life experiences and artistic expression. If a writer, artist, or composer experiences a cathartic moment when doing something significant like cycling through the Netherlands when the tulips are in full bloom or witnessing an architectural masterpiece like the Pantheon in Rome, how are those experiences manifested when they begin their next work? For writers and visual artists, it seems to me that the relationship is often quite direct. For example, a writer could attempt in prose to capture the details of a particular scene or space, while an artist could be inspired to render the scene realistically or perhaps more abstractly in a painting. In either case, one could argue that the resultant work was directly inspired by the experience. For a composer however, this relationship is a bit more slippery. With few exceptions, I have rarely conceived of a work or been inspired to compose a melody simply upon viewing an extraordinary sight. And yet, as I read through the program notes I have drafted for the works contained on this recording, I cannot help but notice that I have used the word “inspire” over and over again.

For me, musical “inspiration” often involves finding myself in a new and unfamiliar environments and allowing myself to be stimulated by the experiences that await me. In the case of Splash of Indigo (2014), the title track for this compact disc, this involved immersing myself in an activity that involved using my hands and working intensively with indigo dye and various fabrics over an extended period of time. Through a slight shift in perspective, I found “inspiration” in the activity and began to conceive of a work that would bring together several facets of my musical voice and experience; my identity as a Western-trained American composer, elements of Japanese folk music, and what I would come to learn in a composition intensive based on the pedagogical practices of Nadia Boulanger taken in Paris and as a result, a renewed love for French Impressionistic music. For Riding through Misty Clouds (2012), I observed cloud formations that slowly morphed before my eyes from the window of a plane and attempted to musically depict these subtle changes. Runaway Train (2005) is an example of how musical horizons can be broadened when a composer is exposed to a new and unfamiliar musical culture. In this case, the resultant melodic line of interlocked parts that characterize Balinese gamelan suggested a certain way to approach writing for the piano. Sometimes musical inspiration can take the form of responding to a specific historical event. A poignant example of this is Two Movements for Violin and Piano (2005), my personal response to 9-11. Since New York is my hometown, the emotions I felt witnessing this horrific act and the needless suffering of innocent people left an indelible mark on my consciousness. At the time I felt the need to express these complicated emotions in a deeply anguished work. Over the years, poetry has also been an important source of inspiration for me. Words have a certain power of suggestion that often call out for a musical setting. When I was introduced to the poetry of Tanikawa Shuntarō in 1997 it opened up a completely new door for me. I always had an affinity for poetry, but never imagined that I would find poems in the Japanese language that I would be able to understand, never mind respond to musically. Over the course of five years from 1998-2002 I set three of his poems to music in each of the three places I lived during this time period; “Kiss" was composed in Tokyo. “Koro, koro” was composed in Honolulu, Hawaiʻi, and “Haru" was composed in Riverside, California. Finally, in my orchestral work Overdrive (2005), I attempt to inspire joy and exuberance in my listeners by taking them on a fantastic musical journey.

This album is my first release featuring my works for Western orchestral instruments and voice, representing a cross-section of my music over an eighteen-year period. I hope that you find something in these works that inspires you to ponder, reflect, or even dream.

A Few Words from the Composer 作曲家からの一言

During autumn 2013 I made a spontaneous decision that would come to have far-reaching implications throughout my life. It was a particularly long summer in Southeast Texas that year, and even in mid-October temperatures continued to soar into the 90s. So, I resolved to take a weekend trip somewhere in the United States where I could enjoy cooler temperatures and crisp autumn foliage. Searching “Spectacular places across the USA for autumn foliage” turned up a recommendation for the Enchanted Circle Scenic Byway near Taos, New Mexico. I promptly bought a plane ticket to Albuquerque and made my way to the “Land of Enchantment” during the third weekend in October.

What spectacular scenery was awaiting me in Taos! The cottonwoods were in full bloom in blazing yellows, and the crisp, earthy scent and cool, refreshing winds left a lasting first impression. Taos is a well-known mecca for art and I enjoyed exploring the downtown galleries. I stopped by Stephen Kilborn’s pottery gallery off the plaza, and we engaged in delightful conversation. He asked me what I did for a living, and when I mentioned that I am a composer, he said, “Well then, you must be a Helene Wurlitzer Foundation Fellow.” After confessing I had never heard of the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation, and was simply visiting Taos to enjoy the autumn foliage, I learned that the Foundation, founded in 1954 and one of the oldest artist residency programs in the country, provides resources for painters, poets, sculptors, writers, composers, photographers and filmmakers to pursue creative endeavors. Wishing to spend an extended period of time in this magical place, I applied for an artist residency and was thrilled to receive notification that I was selected for a 10-week residency in summer 2015. I spent most of my summer in Taos that year, and my days were happily filled with ample time for composing, art-making, hiking, meditating, attending exhibitions and concerts, and getting to know the locals. The sweet aroma of sagebrush filled the air during my hikes in the surrounding mountains, and from various peaks in the area I gazed upon the desert stretching infinitely to the horizon and basked in the quietude. The resulting work inspired by these experiences, Lost Mountains, Quiet Valleys (2015), is the title track of this compact disc, the fourth in a series dedicated to my selected works for Japanese instruments.

I find that music composition is a poetic way to critically engage with the world and document my experiences while developing a life-affirming sensitivity to the changes in my life and society at large. It also serves as tool to connect with others, both in the sense of getting to know people who are interested in my creative work and share common interests, as well as opening up doors to forge life-long bonds of friendships with performers, choreographers, directors, actors, librettists, dancers, visual artists and others involved in the creative arts with whom I have opportunities to collaborate.

Each of the works featured on this recording reflect these sentiments in various ways. Withering Chrysanthemum (2016) was inspired by a year-long course in Chinese brush painting that I took at the Kaetsu Centre in Cambridge, England, while Still (2016) is a musical response to three minutes of absolute silence and stillness I observed while standing in Gare du Nord station to pay homage to the innocent victims of the terror attacks in Paris in November 2015. The remaining works on this album were all commissioned by friends and colleagues. Both Silent Cry of a Heron (2016) and Silence (2015) are based on principles of simplicity and economy of gesture found in Japanese aesthetics and are representative of my recent interest in using an absolute minimum number of compositional “sound cues” in my work. You Left Me, Sweet, Two Legacies (2015) and Send Off at Yellow Crane Tower (2014) were both commissioned by long-time collaborators Duo YUMENO, and reflect a continuing effort to seek a compositional language that transcends the boundaries between Japanese and European classical music traditions.

As I listened to these works as a totality in the final phases of audio production, I could not help but notice that they are more austere and contemplative than those featured on previous recordings of mine and could offer an opportunity for listeners to consider the importance of silence and stillness in our lives. I have returned to Taos most summers since my 2015 residency to pursue creative endeavors on my own, and have developed a solid network of friends and have enjoyed both artistic and outdoor activities. Taos always offers the time and space I need to recharge and reconnect. Similarly, I sincerely hope you allow the works on this recording to transport you to a place of introspection, peace, and quietude.

Marty Regan

Putney, VT
December 2020