Originality
Originality
Stravinsky was original; Bach wasn’t. Glenn Gould was original; Adolph Herseth wasn’t. When considering performance and composition, how important is originality?
Let’s start first with performance. Is the performer’s job to be original or simply to recreate what the composer wrote originally? I don’t have a definitive response, but for me the answer lies somewhere between those two extremes—originality and recreation. An obvious example of originality gone astray can be seen with opera directors who take a standard opera and attempt to make it “their” opera. Sadly, in many opera reviews the majority of the article focuses on the director’s vision. To me, this is a sort of egocentric madness.
I remember hair-raising performances by Adolph Herseth, the legendary principal trumpet in the Chicago Symphony, and the issue of originality doesn’t even seem relevant; he was simply delivering the very best version of what Mahler or Strauss or Tchaikovsky had in mind. Yet I also think of Leonard Bernstein’s speech before a Glenn Gould performance of the Brahms First Piano Concerto. Bernstein informed the audience that he disagreed with Gould’s highly original and eccentric interpretation, but he also believed that Gould was a serious artist whose interpretation deserved to be heard. I love that speech and what it represents—namely, an openness to different ideas. Maybe we should play that speech for some politicians these days!
What about originality in composition? Consider two of our greatest composers, Stravinsky and Bach. Stravinsky is considered to be one of the most original composers of his or any time, while Bach was considered to be unoriginal. After all, Bach wrote in older forms such as the fugue and even wrote out most of his ornamentations. (What a scandal!) Yet both composers are considered to be giants—“immortals,” as Hermann Hesse might have called them.
My own take on originality is that it can be a positive thing, but far more important is the quality of the work. We have all heard pieces that are highly original but—let’s face it—total crap. So while originality is good, quality matters most and must always come first. And in stating that, I suspect that I’m not being very original.
At my jazz concert last night, the bass player asked, "If Wynton Marsalis is such a great trumpet player, why is he not as popular as Chet Baker who wasn't a great trumpet player?" That was a great question! Chet was a master at creating melodies in his solos. Chet has over 3M monthly listeners on Spotify. Wynton has less than 500K. (My quintet has 75 :) In my observation, Wynton is both more original and has more facility on the instrument, but his solos can be very long and more "outside" the chord structure. I know that is a subjective opinion, but for Chet to have 6X's the listeners as Wynton, Chet's gift of creating melodies (and singing ability) is the main reason he is so popular.
Being original in a composition can be both incredible or awful. There are plenty of original compositions that will be never be played because they can't relate to an audience. Then there are the works of John Williams who writes original melodies everyone relates to. Whether you are composing an opera in the 21st Century (difficult proposition) or latin jazz piece, the more original you are within the bounds of the structure you are composing in may be the key to how successful you are.
As Glenn Gould wrote in his amusing little ditty " So you Want to Write a Fugue?" many years ago,
"Never be clever for the sake of being clever". For years I was afraid to compose, because of the fear of being imitative or "unoriginal". Then one day, in my 50s, I finally said F*** it! I'm just going to write what my nature feels and tells me, and let the chips fall. I'm no great composer, but I have had some very satifying and fulfilling experiences and a lot of things published. Best of all, I feel good about having been true to myself.