The Fredösphere

Yesterday in a post I mentioned Forrest Covington's sunset musings on the creative process and how it works. Today I have time to say a bit more. I do my creative work mostly away from the piano (and the computer, for that matter). I admit that with some hesitation because working in your head is the idealized way to compose -- Beethoven composing while walking, and all that. Those composers who work at the piano usually feel the need to cite Stravinsky's impeccable example to justify themselves. I also recall Michael Daugherty shocking an unsophisticated audience with the revelation that he relies on synthesizers and computers to create his orchestral scores. I say, if the piano helps you, use it. My piano skills are too slight for it to work for me when writing a complex score. More significantly, there is something about sitting down in front of a piano (or even a computer) that simply turns off my creative powers. I enter a kind of somnambulant state. My improvising devolves quickly into a stock set of primitive gestures. I use the piano only as a correctional tool, which for me is not an insignificant part of the process, but it is a more reactive, less creative, part. Over the summer I experienced a dry spell in the creative juices and I really started worrying about it. Then we fixed our treadmill and I noticed how valuable that time is. I put my body into motion and my brain starts working too. Very strange. And unlike jogging out doors, I can have my text and my notes (not musical notes) in front of me, and I can play out my composition in my head as I exercise. It works great. I work great. I am happy.