Performances of my newest work: "The Navajo Mandala"

Posted By on June 10, 2010

Back in March, I was commissioned by the U.S. Armed Forces Band in Europe to compose a piece for their woodwind quintet and brass quintet. Each of these quintets maintains a rather busy touring schedule around Europe. And from time to time, they perform together on the same concert. The trouble is, there isn’t very much repertoire for combined woodwind and brass quintets. So they contacted me with this commission.

As is my habit, I made my way to a hotel in some other city for the sheer purpose of composing this new piece. This time it was Brussels. And as the motives and ideas began to unfold, it became clear this this work was going to be based on an American Indian theme. Perusing various book stores in Brussels, I came upon a book of Native American mandalas, a Sanskrit word that means “circle”. In the Hindu and Buddhist religious traditions, their sacred art often takes a mandala form. But Native American spiritualism has adopted their own style of mandalas, which are often a square with four gates containing a circle with a center point. Each gate is in the shape of a T. In various spiritual traditions, mandalas may be employed for focusing attention of aspirants and adepts, as a spiritual teaching tool, for establishing a sacred space, and as an aid to meditation and trance induction.

Well, given all of this, the piece is not nearly as deep and intense as one may assume. I merely used the idea of a mandala diagram, one from the Navajo tribe to be exact, as a focus point for the creative process of the piece. The music describes the intricate symbols, drawings and symmetry on the mandala.

The combined quintets have done a super job in preparing the new work for performance. I drove to the base where they are stationed. This band, by the way, is the descendant of the famous Glenn Miller band during WWII. And we had a small adjustment and coaching session. And now the group has taken the piece on the road. Here is a list of the locations where “The Navajo Mandala” is being performed.
All of these places are in Denmark:
7 June 1930hrs – Nordkraft, Aalborg
8 June 1930hrs – Viborg Cathedral, Viborg
9 June 1800hrs – Kastellet, Copenhagen
10 June 1730hrs – Faelledparken, Copenhagen
11 June 1930hrs – Lynghojskolen, Svogerslev, Roskilde

Interview in Fanfare Magazine

Posted By on June 4, 2010

I have a feature interview in the May/June edition of Fanfare Magazine. I think readers would find it to be very interesting!
Here is a copy of it:

A Conversation with Hornist-composer
Kerry Turner
In Fanfare 33:4, I enthusiastically recommended a new Albany SACD showcasing works by Kerry Turner,
a longtime member of the American Horn Quartet and assistant principal horn of the Luxembourg
Philharmonic who has also produced a steady stream of compositions. The music on the SACD, whose
overall title is Karankawa (after the concert overture that leads off the program), shows that Turner has a
sure hand with orchestration. Naturally, he also writes very well for brass instruments, as you might expect
from a horn player; the disc also contains works for orchestra with horn quartet, solo tuba, and solo horn.
Not long ago, the American-born Turner called me from his home in Luxembourg to chat about horn
playing and composing in the early 21st century.
My first question was how playing in a horn quartet differs from playing in an orchestra. “A horn quartet,
especially the American Horn Quartet, is really like a turbo jet engine,” he said. “The players play with
such a quality and so well together after all these years, that when we perform it’s like taking off in top gear
in a race car, and we don’t stop. With every single note we are 100-percent on until the end of the hourand-
45-minute recital. That’s a different kettle of fish from playing in an orchestra. There are different
types of embouchure you use in an orchestra for Mahler or Mozart or whatever, and you have long periods
of rest and then a little solo. It’s very different. My wife went on the last American Horn Quartet tour with
me, and she says, ‘When you’re in this quartet it’s like you’re Superman, and when you come back to the
regular work you’re Clark Kent.’ In the quartet we have to perform virtuosic music at high intensity; in the
orchestra, for the most part, you just put your notes in the right place at the right time.”
I asked Turner how easily he, as an American-trained musician, initially fit into the Luxembourg
Philharmonic. Are there national styles of horn playing anymore? Indeed there are, he said. “It’s true that
the world is getting smaller with CDs and also with the hornists around the world being in contact with
each other; that’s brought a lot of styles together. But there’s still a detectable London style, there are
famous sounds in Vienna and Berlin, and in the United States you’re divided between the Chicago camp
and the New York camp. Then there’s a Hollywood sound too. In the rest of the world that’s not in Europe
or America, particularly Japan and South America, they end up choosing a school to go with. Japan has
100-percent adopted the German way of playing the horn. For a while in Paris they were playing in an
American style, but that’s changed in the past few years. Here in the Luxembourg Philharmonic, we have
three North Americans, all trained in North America, and a Hungarian, which represents another famous
horn school. I would say that you have a very American sound in Luxembourg. We’re probably one of the
most New York-sounding horn sections in Europe.”
At his Web site, Turner reveals that he also sings tenor in a semi-professional octet. I asked him if singing
carries over into his work as a horn player, and how playing the horn affects his approach to singing, if it
does at all. “My teacher was Hermann Baumann,” Turner replied, “and he was also a singer; his whole
philosophy was that you play the horn as you sing. He believed in a strong correlation with singing: Listen
to how singers turn phrases and breathe, and horn players can emulate this. I was Hermann Baumann’s fan
when I was very young, long before I studied with him, so I’ve had this in my mind for a long time. He
plays like a tenor in an opera, very bravura and well sung. In the horn quartet you hear us ‘singing’ a lot,
even with big vibrato, because we’re carrying a lyrical melody.”
I asked Turner to speak from the perspective of a composer, then, and consider what makes music sit well
on the horn or another brass instrument—what does the horn do well, and what gives it trouble? “The thing
about horn that’s so amazing,” he said, “is that, particularly in the Romantic times, they discovered that the
horn can cover a wide range of emotions, and that carries into the famous Hollywood film scores, from
Korngold to John Williams; they’ve had spectacular horn lines, not only lyrical melodies that touch the
heart, but stuff that’s very heroic. Listen to Jurassic Park, or Heldenleben to put it on the concert stage.
They give you a real adrenaline rush. I just completed a symphony where I have eight horns playing in a
chorale style, because eight horns have a dark, beautiful sound, almost like a Russian Orthodox choir. Then
when they play heroic passages it’s thrilling, and they can get across very intense emotions too. And there
are special effects you can use, like flutter tongue and stopped bells. In Karankawa, when the canons go off
to represent the big battle, I have a sound like people screaming—through the horns.” All well and good,
but I wondered whether Turner intentionally writes music that will make the players jump through hoops,
or if he tries to make life easier for them, having had to play enough hard music by other people? “Despite
what people may think, I do not try to make people jump through hoops,” he insists. “But when I play my
own music I’m shocked by how hard it is. It’s no more difficult than études that horn players learn in
school, but it’s true that some of those are incredibly difficult. I don’t write in a super-modern style, which
is a whole different approach. I try to put less in, so players can rest a couple of bars before the next lick. I
also try to write long phrases so they don’t sit there for a while and then just play a couple of notes, which
is hard for horn players to do. I also know the dangers of jumping from low notes to high notes, so I try to
give them a good approach. For other instruments, I’ve really done my best for people to be able to read the
music for the first time off the page. Orchestras don’t have a lot of time to play new works; they get one
reading and one rehearsal and then a performance. I want it to be a decent reading, so it can’t be
remarkably difficult. That’s different from writing really intricate and challenging chamber music for good
players; I always have to send a recording of the piece to the ensemble so they can hear the final product,
because they can’t quite get it in the first reading. Sometimes my creative side overruns my practical side,
and I try to keep that in balance.”
I brought up a comment he’d posted on his Web site, on the page about his inspirations, where he wrote, “I
truly feel that the art of modern composition is going down the wrong path.” I asked him to elaborate.
“That statement came from sitting in a symphony orchestra for 26 years,” he said. “In Europe we do a lot of
modern composers. A lot of the orchestras were, until recently, highly state-funded, so they have some
autonomy from the audience. So every two weeks or so we’ll play a modern piece. Now, compare it to
going to an art gallery. If a person goes to a gallery and sees a painting he thinks is ugly or difficult or a
controversial scene, he’s not forced to sit there for 20 minutes and stare at it. But in the concert hall you
can’t leave in the middle of 20 minutes of something that’s aggressive or ugly or very difficult to listen to.
I’ve watched composers come in to record their works; the orchestra players have sunk their teeth into it,
and walked away saying, ‘That isn’t very good.’ The only person who enjoyed it was the composer
himself. Many years ago I entered some of my works in composition contests in Europe and Japan. They
didn’t ask for a recording; they just wanted to see the score. One of the pieces was Karankawa. They didn’t
even make the second round. I figured, OK, that’s the way a competition is. Later, I was performing Six
Lives of Jack McBride for tenor, horn, violin, and piano five times around the Cologne area. The pianist
was a professor of composition at an academy nearby, and he went on the radio and said, ‘When you open
up Turner’s scores, they look very simple, not complex or mathematical.’ Well, you don’t get it at the first
look. But when you play it, it springs alive. He also talked about how something else looks on the page, and
it struck me that he was talking like a visual artist. But music is about how it sounds, not how it looks.
These people are judging new works according to how they look, not how they sound. Well, ask the
audience what they like. In large cities, they like to hear the absolute avant-garde, and it’s fantastic they
have that. But inspired music that’s true to its own heart and music that deals with mankind’s soul in 2010
is being called trite or plagiarist. I don’t believe that’s true. I believe composition has been hijacked by
professors in their ivory towers. Every time I give that speech I get extremely positive feedback.”
So, putting his opinions into practice, he produced the four works on the new CD, pieces that were written
in the mid 1990s. “I was going through a dark period then,” he admits. “But I had good friends who told me
to keep writing; they commissioned things from me, so I did it, but for the most part these scores stayed in
my cellar untouched for 10 years. Once in a while I’d get it out and say, ‘Karankawa, that’s the best work
I’ve ever done.’ But I was too busy to promote it. Finally, Dariusz Wisniewski, the conductor on the CD,
gave me the inspiration to bring these into the world. Most of the people involved in this production
donated their service for free because they believed in the project, even printing the music. I took my time,
writing these by hand on manuscript paper with pencil and eraser. I feel there’s a very human touch to these
pieces, and you can hear me and other people in the music. It’s not computer-generated. There’s a little
experimentation with minimalism and atonality, but basically these are tonal works, with a bit of a Copland
sound because that’s my heritage. Here in Europe the Copland/Bernstein sound is very exotic and they like
it, and when they commission me that’s what they want to hear. Karankawa is probably the piece that’s
going to burst off the CD into the orchestral world. It’s eight minutes, very powerful, and it’s got a great
story and memorable melodies.”
The rest of the disc is devoted to concertante works; oddly, Turner is not the soloist in the Concerto for
Low Horn, even though it’s listed in his repertoire. “Charles Putnam is the low horn player in the American
Horn Quartet, and in the world of horn players, Charlie Putnam is well known as one of the leading horn
players,” Turner said. “I do play the part, and I thought I would record it, but as the recording date
approached, I decided to sit back and act as director of the project, and just play in the Introduction and
Main Event (as a member of the American Horn Quartet). Except for the Concerto for Low Horn, these
pieces haven’t been played at all, so I had to spend time correcting parts. Charlie said he’d do the concerto
for free, so I ate humble pie and let him do it. I decided to hand it over to somebody who’s a low horn
expert.”
The soloist in Turner’s Tuba Concerto is the composer’s brother Kyle. “He’s one of the leading tuba
players in the United States,” Turner says. “He was interim tubist in the New York Philharmonic for three
years, and he reached a level of playing that was extremely high. He started playing a piece of mine that
was actually a cello sonata, and played it on his CD. At the same time, he was looking at this piece, which
was originally a bass trombone concerto, and he said, ‘This would be a great tuba concerto.’ So when the
time came to choose who I wanted on the album, the trombonist who commissioned it was in Thailand
actually playing it there the same week we were recording in Warsaw, so he couldn’t do it. So I asked my
brother Kyle to come over and do it on the tuba. He is a natural, lyrical soloist, and this piece fit him very
well. He’s a freelancer now, playing one gig after another, so he finished a concert with the American
Symphony Orchestra in Carnegie Hall, took a taxi straight to the airport, fell asleep on the plane, came right
to the concert hall in Warsaw and started playing, and when we were done it took him a while to realize he
was in Warsaw.”
Turner hopes that the notice he should receive for this CD will help him launch into the concert hall his
most ambitious composition to date. “I worked for two years on my symphony,” he said. “It’s a huge work,
with a chorus in the last movement, and an offstage Baroque ensemble. I was waiting for a commission that
never came, but I’d never asked for a commission, so I finally decided at the advice of my friends to write
the thing. Now I have a MIDI file along with the score; it’s brand new and just out, and I was hoping to
launch this CD as my debut in the orchestral world so people can hear how I write for orchestra, and then
after that say, ‘OK, here’s the symphony, which is the most sophisticated work I’ve ever written.’ So I’ll be
looking to have that recorded, and I have a couple of bites for the world premiere in the next couple of
years.” Given the work’s dimensions and the composer’s ambitions for it, the subject is not surprising. Said
Turner, “It’s about the Holy Grail.”
This article originally appeared in Issue 33:5 (May/June 2010) of Fanfare Magazine.

My Days in Carengie Hall- What a Memory!

Posted By on May 31, 2010

When I first moved to New York City, back in 1980, I was incredibly fortunate enough to procure lodgings in a tiny, one-room studio in the world famous Carnegie Hall. The studio was located on the eleventh floor and there was no restroom. So I had to use the one down the hall. I had found a way to sneak into concerts as well. The first time I made this discovery, it was quite by accident. I heard music wafting through the halls and I followed it until I found a door with no handle. I managed to get it open with my fingers, and upon opening it, I beheld, from the very highest balcony ledge, the Boston Symphony performing Mahler’s 8th Symphony. Since I was on my way to the bathroom down the hall, I was wearing only my pajamas! Anyway, I was well aware of an eccentric community of artists residing in the building. In fact, that very year, there appeared an article in Time Magazine (I think it was Time) which featured the residents of Carnegie Hall. This was back in 1980.

Now I have had the marvelous luck to come across this amazing, short report about the residents of this fantastic center for the performing arts. The residents are finally being relocated in order to establish a music school in the building. Please watch this! The link is: http://video.nytimes.com/video/2010/04/30/style/1247467749052/on-the-street-goodbye.html

A Word of Thanks to the "9-5ers"

Posted By on May 20, 2010

Over the past several years, I have travelled extensively. Whether I was on the road with the AHQ, the OPL, the VHD or alone as a soloist, I have enjoyed, more or less, quite an international performing career. Other touring musicians with whom I have spoken over the years have commented about how tough it is, keeping up your chops, your concentration and your sleep patterns. I have to admit that I have had times when all I wished was to get back home and have a “normal” day like everyone else. But you know, after a week of that, I just get bored.

But May is a month of holidays over here in Europe. And you cannot always know when shops will suddenly be closed. During a week performing with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam at the beginning of the month, I had some time in the afternoons to ponder this a little bit. It goes without saying that I desired to do everything I could to perform at a consistently high level every day. And so, I was extra diligent about following a special “on the road routine” that I have developed over the years.

You see, I am a man of habit. And I have become more and more so as I have gotten older. My breakfast habits, both content and time, help me to start my daily routine. My warm-up is the same every day, my lunch hour, my post-lunch short siesta, coffee afterwards, afternoon walk, snack and coffee before the concert, beer and food afterwards, they all serve to carve into the new scene or situation a dependable familiarity. And this helps me to adjust to new time zones, strange cities and ultimately, to perform at my peak.

However, what happens when I can’t find a suitable café? Or there are no “small dish” restaurants in the area around the hotel or concert hall? And it gets much more serious than that. There were all sorts of holidays going on in Amsterdam that week. I needed to get my white shirt pressed. I actually needed a new cumber bund. I have been using a special type of balm for my lips these days, and I was running out of the stuff. I really wanted to work out at a gym, something I also like to do when I a on the road, but there wasn’t one anywhere near my hotel.

And so, I would eventually locate a dry-cleaners, or a café or a grocery store that was open. And very often, to my surprise, the employees there seemed to be really bummed out that they had to work, especially on a holiday. Yet, they had no idea how important it was for me, for my performance, for the musical event of that evening, that they were indeed open. And I was so thankful!

Each day brought another special need for me. Those who have travelled with me on tour know that I have a relatively inflexible set of conditions I have to uphold in order to perform consistently (I say this laughing at myself as well as apologizing to those wonderful souls who have indulged me over the years.). I became aware of exactly how important these businesses and services are to me. And how indispensable they are to the hundreds of thousands of musicians all over the world who require their services in order to bring music and culture to the world.

A quick massage before a concert in Birmingham (I had a knotted muscle in my back that hurt when I played.), a cup of fantastic coffee and a piece of apple pie around the corner from the Concertgebouw an hour before the concert, a street market in Paris where I found some much needed black socks, a brass repair shop in New York (Yamaha in Manhattan, to be specific) who cleaned and repaired my over-used horn prior to an AHQ tour, a taxi driver who bypassed heavy traffic to get me to the immigration office in Amsterdam so that I could secure my work permit and tax number before continuing rehearsals with the orchestra, the franchise “Deli France” which one sees all over Asia, who serve good coffee and real croissants for breakfast, the drug store that carries antacids or lip balm or a replacement toothbrush. Even though I do see sometimes the looks in the faces of the employees. Sometimes, they really don’t want to be there. But I, for one, am truly thankful for them all. Their little services have helped me survive what has been one of the most difficult touring years of my life.

What a Year This Has Been!

Posted By on May 15, 2010

What a year this has been! I don’t know where to start. Perhaps the best place to begin is after my 2-week vacation in Tuscany back in August. I took two solid weeks off the horn. My chops needed it. But of course, those of you who are “in the trenches” know exactly what I’m talking about. I had that horn on my mouth seemingly non-stop up until then.

I jumped back into the performance scene with a Schumann Konzertstück with the OPL back in September. This was followed by a small tour of France and then a rather extensive tour of the U.S. with the Virtuoso Horn Duo and Friends.

It was at the end of this particular tour that I noticed something was wrong with my lips. I’m still not sure what it was, but I developed a major problem with my embouchure! I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say that it was a veritable nightmare which lasted until the end of April.

Upon my arrival, I played a few weeks with the OPL and then I was off to the College of Music in Trossingen, Germany where I performed a recital and taught some students there. This was immediately followed by a chamber music concert in the Chamber Music Hall of the Philharmonie in Luxembourg. We performed my own Sonata for Horn and Strings. It had been a while since I had played that piece.

There were a few singing activities (with the vocal octet Intermedii) over the Christmas holidays, and then I was off to Portugal with the Weber Concertino and a week of masterclasses at the Artave Escola Profissional Artistica do Vale Do Ave. While I was teaching at this wonderful institution, I was also preparing for a week of Mahler 7, which I played with the OPL right afterwards. Then it was off to the U.S. for a tour with the American Horn Quartet. Carl Davis “Live Cinema” was on the books for the day of my return to Luxembourg, and a commission to compose a medley based on “heavy metal” music came through, much to my surprise. So I locked myself in a hotel room in Brussels and completed that just in time for the performances in March. The OPL took off for England in April, but had to return mid-tour due to the infamous volcano in Iceland. This very same volcano disaster prevented Kristina and me from undergoing a small tour of the U.S. where we were scheduled to appear at the IHS North West Horn Workshop and then at the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana. But there was really no time to wallow in self-pity about this as I had a new commission due- The Navajo Mandala for combined Woodwind and Brass Quintets- written for the U.S. Armed Services Band in Europe.

The first week of May saw me performing on first horn with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam. And there was a wonderful feature article- interview about me in the May/June issue of Fanfare Magazine.

Still to come before my next vacation: Recitals and teaching at the Interlochen Arts Camp in Michigan, compose a new piece for the AHQ to be premiered on our up coming trip to Australia, the Schubert Octet at the 6th Festival Balades Musicales en Voges, France, Virtuoso Horn Duo concerts in Singapore, Brisbane and Sydney, and AHQ performances at the IHS International Horn Symposium in Brisbane.

And then we are taking vacation! This time in Andalucía.

Bienvenidos

Posted By on May 1, 2010

Bienvenidos al renacimiento de mi sitio Web. Hemos transferido muchos de viejos blogs al nuevo. Y comenzaré a escribir y fijar nuevo blogs muy pronto. Después de todo, tengo mucha cogedura hasta hacen. Sólo escribiré algo en español de vez en cuando.

Italian

Posted By on May 1, 2010

Benvenuto da la nuova presentazione del mio sito web. Noi abiamo trasmésso multi “blogs” vecchi su questo nuovo sito.  Fra breve Io scriverò et pubblicarò  anche gli nuovi “blogs”. Finalmente devo riguadagnare multi cosi. Si puo trovare qual cosa qui solo qualche volta.

Bienvenue

Posted By on May 1, 2010

Bienvenue à la nouvelle présentation de mon site Web. Nous avons transféré beaucoup des blogs anciens sur le nouveau site. En plus, je vais écrire et publier des nouveaux blogs. Finalement il y a beaucoup qu’il faut récupérer. Je vais composer quelque chose ici seulement de temps en temps.

Willkommen

Posted By on May 1, 2010

Willkommen bei der Wiedergeburt meiner Web-seite. Wir haben viele alten Blogs auf der neuen Website übertragen. Und ich werde demnächst, ganz neuen Blogs schreiben und veröffentlichen. Schliesslich muss ich noch vieles nachholen. Ich werde nur ab und zu mal, etwas auf Deutsch schreiben.

Welcome

Posted By on May 1, 2010

Welcome to the rebirth of my website. We have transferred many of the old blogs to the new one. And I shall begin writing and posting new blogs very soon. After all, I have a lot of catching up to do.