Impressions From A Composer

I gave up my own attempts at performance (double bass) long enough ago to count the time in decades, so I felt a little reckless entering via the stage door of Corbett Hall to hear the initial rehearsal of The Four Winds. The first person I saw was Laurel Ohlson who gleefully told me she’d gone to a Reds game the night before. I was off to one that evening, myself. But that’s about another piece, Opposable Thumbs, which absconds with “Take me Out to the Ball Game” in the second movement.

I found a seat in the audience and waited to learn the rehearsal order, planning to hear my piece read and then to head out for dinner. But the experience of listening to the Monarch Brass in rehearsal – unveiling the real workings of the group when you come to understand at just what stratospheric level these women play, and how they go about fashioning a single, unified musical vision – kept me there that day, and kept me coming back to listen to every rehearsal, soaking in as much as I could.

I came to Cincinnati to hear The Four Winds, the work commissioned from me by the 2000 IWBC, and be a small part of the conference. As with any brand new piece, the first rehearsals were shaky. The notes were mostly there but a cohesive shape had yet to emerge; everyone had to learn the piece as a whole, not just fit their part into a resultant sound. This always takes time. The difference between the new and the old was underscored by the early rehearsals of most of the other pieces, more familiar repertoire which was tried and true for the fingers and the ears. The Wagner and the Reed came together much more quickly. By the time the concert arrived, I happily listened to a solid performance of The Four Winds. I have those amazing rehearsals to thank for that.

For me however, the real pleasure of the 2000 IWBC was hearing the Monarch Brass from start to finish learn a treacherously difficult program. I’ve taught at universities for eleven years and become accustomed to the sounds of student groups. Any professional ensemble would have been a treat to be around. Of course, the Monarch Brass blows most professional ensembles out of the water. “Chop-buster” is an apt description for the program and yet those chops never tired, or so it seemed to my ears.

The chance to hear music making at the level so many aspire to attain coming to fruition right before your very eyes is a remarkable lesson in what can be. The Monarch Brass was an inspiration to many.

by Carolyn Bremer Composition Faculty, University of Oklahoma