Composer Fan Fiction - #1 Ravel

Sometimes, an author doesn't give you what you want. Sometimes, they do but not enough of it. Enter, Fan Fiction! Say you've been reading Twilight ever since it first came out (way before it was popular). You're hanging out for book four, waiting for Edward and Bella to finally get it on. They do! But... wow. Really, Stephanie? Is that all? Never fear, there are hundreds of fan fics offering you a chance to indulge in what you missed out on.

Now the above experience does not apply to me. However, I've started writing fan fiction about composers. These are not short stories about Mr Ravel my stern but sexy piano teacher. Rather I'm taking moments of his music I absolutely adore and fleshing them out so I can bathe in them for as long as I wish.

This moment comes from the divine Tombeau de Couperin. Who can forget this shivery moment from the third movement, Forlane? If for you, like me, those nine-eight-y gems went by a little too quickly, feel free to indulge in my fan fic.

Soup's too intense. Reduce it.

A musing on JK Rowling's great work.  For (so far) voice, left handed piano and 2 drum kits even though you could play it on one.  Sibelius midi audio here: https://soundcloud.com/toby-graham-music/soups-too-intense-reduce-it/s-iuCdB

little phrases

I gave myself half an hour on a timer to write non-stop, and wrote some disconnected sentences. this is about half of it.

I'm going to go see daniil trifinov play some good piano tonight so maybe that will do an inspire of me to do a write of better

Paradies

Das Wasser um mich ist warm, aber du würdest es kalt finden.

The water around me is warm, but you would find it cold.

Wo ich lebe, ist das Paradies.

Where I live is paradise.

Ein tausend Fische, Glitzersteinchen, Der tiefe Abgrund.

A thousand fishes, glittering stones, the deep abyss.

Leben umschließt mich, streichelt mich.

Life surrounds me, caresses me.

Hier wirst du einen ununterbrochen, traumlosen schlaf finden.

Here you will find uninvaded, dreamless sleep.

I have been eaten 7 times since I was 7 – it is not a regular thing.

For piano.  This is my neat version.  I'll post a nice legible Sibelius version tomorrow.

Following day: Sibelius version with some significant register edits.  The piece is about me.  It speaks of the sad sense of beauty that pops up in a context of disconcerting repetition - always hopeful, always on the brink of giving up.  Maybe hope and hopelessness hold hands and lean outwards, balancing on something very tall and thin.

  Audio here: https://soundcloud.com/toby-graham-music/eaten-7-times/s-oKPEV

lil vocalise

a germ of an idea I've had for a while, given strips of flesh. stage two will involve actual piano and actual band(?)
I want to duel melodica and vocalist and I want the vocalist to have words and I am not sold on the words exactly but for some reason I'm thinking Hail Mary?¯\_(ツ)_/¯?

melodica too loud for this time of night - here's some tentative soprano instead.

Renoir Response #1 - Prelude: Clear Cloth

One of the many things I find sublime in Renoir's paintings is his depiction of creased transparent material over the skin. This was the starting point for this prelude. MIDI Audio here.

Untergehen

Ich werde dir zusehen von Moß bedeckten Felsen. Suche night nach mir. 

I look upon you from amidst the moss-covered rocks. Don’t look for me.

Ich kann dir nicht folgen. Ich werde hungern.

I cannot follow you. I will starve.

Lass mich dich nicht festhalten. Du wirst untergehen in meinem Armen.

Do not let me hold you, you will perish in my arms.

Oder willst du untergehen.

Do you wish to drown?

Side note: I much prefer composing in the morning, so some of my submissions might come a day ahead going forward

A Theme for a Scene

Ahh writing a ballet! Here's a first attempt at a wee theme :)

I. textured light softens

heck it all to damn, I wrote a haiku.
I know it's hundo percent tenor range but I wanted a baritone voice in falsetto delicate like snow because it's about snow
metaphor hashtag

Textured light softens
under lofty peaks; it forms
speaking small wonders.

Prelude: Seele

Seele, wie bist du schöner, tiefer, nach Schneestürmen.

Soul, how much lovelier and more profound you are after snowstorms.

- Peter Altenberg