Jennifer Higdon is one of the most prolific and successful American composers writing today. Her works have been recorded on over two dozen CDs. In 2004, the Atlanta Symphony released the Grammy-winning Higdon: Concerto for Orchestra/City Scape. Higdon enjoys more than 200 performances a year of her works. Her work Blue Cathedral is one of the most-performed orchestral works by a living composer (100 orchestras have performed the work since its 2000 premiere). She teaches composition at The Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia. Jennifer spoke recently with composer Kirk Noreen from the 92nd Street Y’s Tisch Center for the Arts about composing, the Dixie Chicks and the upcoming performance of her work String Poetic on Feb 14 by violinist Jennifer Koh.

KN: You are one of the fortunate few composers who make their living as a composer. Congratulations, this is no easy task. I’m sure you have numerous commissions that will keep you busy for the foreseeable future, but if you could put everything on hold for an indefinite period of time and write your “dream piece,” what would it be?

JH: This is an interesting question. I actually think the things I would choose to write on my own, such as a “dream piece,” might very well be the things I’m working on now. I have just finished a piano concerto for Lang Lang and that’s something that I had really wanted to do for awhile (since knowing him as a student at Curtis). It seems like kind of a miracle that I actually got asked to do it!

The next 3 projects that I have I consider incredible projects that if I were choosing for myself out of all possibilities, I would choose these. One is a blue grass concerto for the group Time For Three. I know these guys well, love their playing, and identify with the sound, having grown up in East Tennessee where bluegrass is prominent. I’ve always wanted the chance to try to meld musical forms that hold great interest to me, Classical and Bluegrass. It’s an interesting challenge.

I’m also writing a large work for Jennifer Koh (kind of a 2nd installment in commissions for her, yours being the first work), chorus and orchestra. This is also an unusual form. But working on the creation of a piece that involves both a soloist and a chorus, with orchestra backing these 2 up, is going to be just a HUGE load of fun. I’m really excited by the prospect of all the possible colors this combination presents.

And finally, I’m writing a violin concerto for Hilary Hahn, and I’ve wanted to do that for more than half a dozen years, since knowing her as a student. So I’m inspired and enthralled by the possibilities of such an artist. I guess you can say that I’m now doing those very things which I would call my “dream pieces.” I like some variety in my composing time and these 3 projects are giving me the chance to explore different worlds while working with excellent artists.

More...

KN:  That’s a very impressive list of commissions.  Are you working on these pieces simultaneously? And if you are, is there a cross pollination between the pieces or do you try to keep the pieces and ideas separate?

JH: I actually work on only one piece at a time. The pieces can vary so much that it’s extremely difficult keeping them separated in my head.

KN: As a composer myself, I relish the opportunity to work with and write for specific musicians.  The drawback of this occurs when the piece can only be played by the musician it was written for because of the player’s idiosyncrasies. Were you conscious of this dilemma in writing for Jennifer Koh? 

JH: I used to worry about the drawbacks, because I have a tendency to write pieces that I think fit a particular performer, and I have repeatedly been in the position of wondering how the work would transfer to another performer, but thus far in my life, the works seem to move well from person to person. The most extreme version of this for me is a flute piece that I wrote for Peter Brown called rapid.fire. It is full of extended techniques and is very physically demanding, and yet, other flutists have successfully picked the work up. I’ve had to learn to play it myself—no easy feat, boy did I suffer! But I’ve found that if other musicians feel the music speaks to them, they are willing to make the effort to learn the work and grow with it. I’ve also found that I am open to variations in interpretation. In terms of Jennifer Koh, I was very aware that she is able to embrace lots of different kinds of music. I’ve known her for quite a long time and have had the opportunity to hear a large array of styles and musical languages in the works she chooses for herself.

KN: On the same topic, what qualities of Jennifer Koh’s playing did you think about when you wrote the piece?

JH: I thought of her virtuosic abilities and her soulful playing. Because I have heard her play so many different types of music, I created a piece that has different moods; almost like a small story book.

KN: The work you wrote for Jennifer Koh, String Poetic, is a substantial four movement work. Could you give our readers a guide through the work, for instance, could you describe what sort of things you want the listener to hear in each of the movements?

JH: I decided early on that there were certain movements where I wanted the “sound” world to be slightly odd. So I made a decision to use some stopped piano sounds to accompany the violin. So movements 1, 3, & 5 use this technique. I wanted the outer movements to be fast moving and linked in thematic materials to each other (the titles also, “Jagged Climb” and “Climb Jagged"), they’re both like a bit of a rocket ride. The third movement I wanted to be the “heart” of the piece, with stopped notes in the piano, but, slower moving and much more contemplative and profound sounding. With 3 of the movements making use of the stopped sound in the piano, I needed 2 intervening movements with a normal style of piano, thus creating a palette that would make a fresher sound when the stopped piano returns. The 2nd movement is a Nocturne, which could also be played as a stand-alone piece. It’s gentle and rises up and comes back down, very simple. The 4th movement is a tribute to the minimalist school and moves at a moderate tempo, and has frequent changes in the harmony and the note lengths. I then went back after writing the music and created an odd sort of “poem” as the program notes. Now mind you, I’m not a poet, but I tried to figure a way to describe in poem form each of the movements, leaving some sort of impression but not a clear image. Here are the program notes. Poetic songs sung in the voice of violin & piano, each contributes to the story.

Jagged Climb
Jagged run...rise, running, sidle up the side of the climb-jagged-climb

Nocturne...that piece of night-night of peace

Blue Hills of Mist—in the glaze of light between dawn...sunset, blue’s hills have mist—a covering of song and mystery that belongs not to any person, but to other places

Maze Mechanical
Amazing maze; maze that is mad; mechanical machine…putzing and stalling along…made to chug; amazed at the maze; steaming forward; stalling; racing; maniacal…lost in the maze?…mechanical maze

Climb Jagged
Rise above, in jagged climb...climb, arise, in jagged run...running, rise, jagged fun

JH: Hmmmm...I’ve been so busy writing music that I haven’t given this a lot of thought, but I do take advantage of things when they come available. I think the presence of the internet has been fantastic...performers and audience members know where to find a composer when they hear something that they like. CD burning and the ease of producing music manuscripts has made a big difference in my life. It makes it easy to get music out fast and inexpensively to those who are interested in it.

KN: Could you describe how you approach writing a piece? Do you write with a piano, computer software or just pencil and paper? Do you hear the piece in your head and transcribe it or is your process much more developmental where the outcome is less certain. 

JH: I use both pencil and paper, and the computer. I don’t do the kind of playback that a lot of people might expect, because computers cannot reproduce the sounds that I’m trying to achieve. I sketch and keep a notebook and I write a lot of verbal notes to myself, thematic materials for both instruments, and then I put things into the computer. I do not hear large chunks of music in my head. I tend to hear ideas and then try to find a way to present those musical ideas and craft them in such a way that they’ll be engaging to listen to, which means I do a lot of erasing and deleting and rewriting. I’m constantly changing things from day to day trying to make the music more interesting. Nothing that I write ever comes out in one swoop and stays in its first form...it always gets tinkered with and recomposed and recomposed and recomposed some more.

KN: I know a number of composers who don’t listen to any music at all and others who listen to everything from Wagner to Frank Zappa to Miles Davis. With regards to what you listen to, where do you fall within this spectrum and what are you currently excited about listening to?

JH: I listen to all sorts of stuff. Almost never traditional Classical works. Sometimes contemporary Classical (I’ve got about 3,000 CDs of this type) but lots of other things which provide a contrasting soundtrack to what I might be composing during the day. I’ve been listening to the Dixie Chicks a lot lately, Allison Krauss (a real favorite), the new Beatles “Love” remix, Roxanne Panufnik’s choral music, Eminem’s various rap discs, Time For Three’s latest stuff, John Adams’ “Dharma at Big Sur”, Fleetwood Mac, James Blunt, general music from the 60’s, soundtrack to “Road to Perdition,” Peter, Paul & Mary, and Chanticleer’s discs.

KN: Perhaps writing music is effortless for you, but from my experience, I have found certain pieces have been easier to write than others. Could you describe the piece that was the most difficult for you to write?

JH: I never feel anything is easy to write...it is always a struggle and doesn’t seem to get any easier (that can be really discouraging to think about). The most difficult piece I’ve had to compose was the Piano Concerto that I just finished. I had written several concertos prior to this one (percussion, oboe, trombone), so I felt comfortable with the form, but writing for piano is something entirely different.  It is not a single line instrument, there are lots of lines to balance, and there is sooooooo much fantastic repertoire already in existence. So how does a composer contribute yet another piece to all those pieces out there? And make a serious effort? And make an interesting and challenging part for a soloist who is so incredible? And spread this music over 30 minutes, creating an architecture and dramatic unfolding that’s captivating for the listener? Especially since I am challenged on the piano. (I have extreme double-jointedness in my hands, which means that when I play an octave on the piano, my fingers collapse, so I can’t really play like most folks). I knew in crafting a piece for Lang Lang, that I would need complex melodies: melodies that are wound tight on the inside (real complexity in the inside lines) and have a clear form on the outside (I could show this to you with the score, but I don’t know how to describe it in words). There would need to be clear harmonic progressions to support these complex melodies, but in my own language. 

I wanted the orchestra to have a real part that could even stand on its own if the piano was removed, but that would not detract from the solo part when present. It was an agonizing process from the start; extreme work, tons of sketching, constant doubt (even after it’s all complete), continuous erasing. I struggled every day, starting in June, working constantly for 6-8 hours in the actual composing. By the end of each day, my brain was so emptied out that I couldn’t even carry on a conversation; it’s the only time in my life where I was completely silent, with nothing to say verbally. It put me in such a bad mood, that folks were staying away from me! And I still don’t know whether I’ve pulled it off or not. I’ll find out in May, so check back in with me.

KN: Was this struggle somehow reflected in the piece?

JH: Oh gosh, I hope not! But I guess someone listening who is hearing it for the first time would be able to answer this. For me, I know I’ll be sweating the details, wondering if things worked and remembering certain passages that were written over and over 10-12 times or the one particular measure that took 3 hours to write.

KN: Professional composers are essentially freelancers, taking the work when they get it. Fortunately for you, you have a very impressive slate of commissions ahead of you. Do you ever worry about running out ideas or things to say? Have you ever felt the need for a creative rest?

JH: I don’t really think about it, probably because I don’t have time to. I finish a work and then I start the next one right away. There are probably an infinite number of possibilities in combinations of notes, harmonies, instruments, rhythms, range, texture, etc. I’m sure at some point I’ll need some sort of creative break. I can’t imagine that everyone doesn’t need that at some time. However, for now, the music keeps coming and I just keep writing. I don’t look back, and I don’t fret. I’ve just learned to trust.

[Distinguished Artists in Recital: Jennifer Koh, violin / Reiko Uchida, piano: 2/14/07]