Emma Lou Diemer
as published in the IAWM Journal, October 1995, pp. 6-7.
Prague in July! Prague anytime! A first visit to that old city fulfilled all the expectations I had after reading about it and hearing it described in ecstatic terms by those who had been there. It is surely one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and to those of us interested in architecture, music, art, and politics, certainly among the most fascinating. The Czech Republic has emerged from the captivity of Nazism and Communism and is finding its way as a free nation at last, and evidence of its progressing prosperity was every place-as were the tourists.
I was there for the recording of my Concerto in One Movement for Piano by the Czech Radio Symphony Orchestra and its conductor, Vladimir Valek. The concerto was written for Betty Oberacker, the superb concert pianist who premiered it with the Santa Barbara Symphony in 1991. Betty, director of the keyboard program at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and my good friend and music lover, Marilyn MacKenzie Skioeld, went with me to Prague-Betty to record the concerto, Marilyn to sight-see, take photos of that most photogenic of cities, and listen.
How does one "get" a work recorded? Usually, as in this case, by learning about one of the various companies or entities who are recording contemporary music and then somehow finding the financing to accomplish it. Two of those who do frequent recordings in Europe, sometimes in the U.S., are Master Musicians Collective (MMC Recordings, Ltd., 240 West Street, Reading, MA 01867-2847) and Vienna Modern Masters (VMM), the company founded by Nancy Van de Vate and Clyde Smith. (A number of American composers, myself included, have been fortunate to have works recorded by VMM).
William Thomas McKinley is President and Executive Director of MMC; the company issued its first CD in 1993. The goal of MMC is "to provide composers of diverse styles and nationalities an opportunity to record their orchestral and chamber music with some of the finest orchestras, conductors, and ensembles in the world." Recordings during the last three years have been made with the Warsaw Philharmonic, the Slovak Radio and Television Orchestra of Bratislava, the St. Petersburg Philharmonic, the Krakow Philharmonic, the Silesian Philharmonic, the Prague (Czech) Radio Symphony Orchestra, and the Seattle Symphony.
Tom McKinley phones composers all over the U.S., and a year or so ago he phoned me about the opportunities for recording in Europe. I was particularly eager to have my piano concerto recorded, but the price was a bit high that first call. Several months later he phoned again, the cost per minute was a little more reasonable, and I felt it was "now or never." So the contracts were signed and an approximate date in July 1995 was set for the recording. I, of course, immediately told Betty Oberacker that the project was on. Betty is one of those professionals in whom one can have complete faith to learn or re-learn a new work quickly and play it memorized with all the dynamism and sensitivity a composer could ask. All of us have certain works we have written that we believe need a chance to be "in the repertoire," a grand statement that means a particular work should have a great deal more exposure than its premiere performance and perhaps one or two others before its disappearance into oblivion. "In the repertoire" accords it more respect, in fact gives it a chance to be heard into the next generation or longer. (Of course we all expect to be discovered someday, but what good does that do us now?) If many of the works written today were played as often as the works of the old masters they could truly be tested and judged as to their durability and value. Unfortunately, most new compositions do not get that chance. Some of them deserve it, some don't.
Another hard and cold fact is that unless we write pop music, we are in it (composing) for the quality of music that we wish to write. We don't cater to the masses most of the time, do not expect great financial return for our efforts, and even take some satisfaction in knowing that those who like our greater creations may be in a somewhat elite (and unusually discerning?) group. My 25-minute piano concerto, however, is a work that I feel many kinds of music lovers would like to hear. It was written for our community orchestra, which is made up of an excellent group of musicians who live in the Santa Barbara area or come up from Los Angeles to play the season. The concert-goers here are rather conservative, as is the case in most communities. When one writes a work that is not academia in its loftiest, most untouchable, most uncompromised best, but rather a work that has an eclectic appeal and purpose, one would like to see that work find a home in the hearts of many listeners.
Back to Prague. We arrived late in the afternoon on Saturday, July 1, 1995 and proceeded to our hotel, the Meteor Plaza, not far from the Old Town Square. My instructions were to phone Tom McKinley upon arriving. Tom is an extremely affable and enthusiastic person on the phone and, I was soon to learn, also in person. He is a fine composer with many performances and recordings of his attractive and listenable music to his credit. He and his wife, Marlene, a Ph.D. in Medieval Literature, host the composers and performers who sign up with MMC, and they travel to the various cities where recordings are to be made. They had just returned from a busy schedule in Slovakia but were ready for more sessions. Betty and I went to the recording studio on Monday afternoon (the recording sessions being scheduled for afternoons and evenings), and met the several composers and performers whose orchestral works were being recorded during the following days. These included the Spanish composer Salvador Brotons, who conducted his own work; Paula Diehl of Philadelphia; Tom McKinley, with his flute soloist Michael Finegold and tenor sax soloist Michael Rossi; and Peter Sacco, whose violin soloist was Lydia Forbes. A work by Robert Starer was also recorded.
The orchestra was in a large studio totally separate, except for a large window and microphone communication, from the room where Tom McKinley, the Czech producer Jan Vrana and his assistants, the composers waiting to be or being recorded, and an interpreter held forth. The recording of my concerto did not begin until late in the evening, by which time the performers and the conductor were showing signs of fatigue and were not really in the mood for jazzy American music that changed meter at almost every measure, and the session ended before 10 p.m. Tom McKinley assured me that Maestro Valek always ended a first session by saying that whatever the orchestra was beginning to learn was "impossible to play," somewhat reassuring me that my music was not singled out as the only piece that was beyond the realm of performability.
The next day one or two works that needed further takes or had not been completed were recorded. This was to be the pattern for the week; the recording of my concerto, for instance, not being completely finished until the following Sunday and coming after the Friday night concert, an advantage in many ways since the orchestra by that time was very much at home with all those tricky rhythms. The ending was recorded on Sunday, and after the orchestra departed, the cadenzas were re-recorded with only Betty in the studio, so that slight sounds from the orchestra players were not part of the recording. Producer Vrana, a composer and teacher, assiduously followed the score, and was totally in command of takes and balances, relaying suggestions via microphone to the conductor and soloist. He knew no English, hence the interpreter. His notes on the takes and his instructions to his assistants manning the mixing console and the DAT machine were evidently clear and precise. I and the other composers were able to make numerous suggestions through the interpreter.
Also on hand was Peter Sefl, musicologist and harpsichordist, who handled many local arrangements, as did Vit Micka, a teacher at the Academy of Music where Betty and the other soloists practiced. The Friday night concert was at Narodnidum Na Vinohradech, a concert house on Namesti Miru (Miru Square), whose auditorium was palace-like in its ornateness, and extremely live. There were few at the concert-it's hard to compete with Mozart and the Rolling Stones-but the orchestra played very well. At a party afterward a young woman composer, Jindra Necasova, expressed great interest in learning more about American competitions, particularly for women composers, and the president of the Czech Music Alliance, Karel Pexidr, was interested in more exchanges of American and Czech music. Betty Oberacker was, throughout the week, 100 percent the professional, always ready, always playing with her usual verve and sensitivity, never flinching from the occasional disagreements concerning tempos or balance. After it was all over, the conductor was very complimentary about her playing, and even told me in English that it was "a nice piece," which I was glad to hear after the less-than-enthusiastic beginning session. His conducting was excellent, his grasp of the score complete and thorough. I believe that European orchestras have something to learn from the variety and colorfulness of American music, just as we benefit from their resources of technique and growing insight. I expect to receive a cassette of the recording within two months, but the compact disc will not be released for another year or so because of the backlog of works being recorded. What other works will be included on the CD I do not yet know.
While Betty was practicing, Marilyn and I toured the city on foot: the castle, reached by crossing the famous Charles Bridge over the Moldau River; the National Cemetery where Smetana and Dvorak are buried; the Dvorak Museum; Bertramka, the estate where Mozart spent some of his last years; the tower of the City Hall, where one can view the hundreds of towers and steeples of the city with everything from Romanesque to Cubistic architecture; and a morning's bus ride to one of the castles out in the Bohemian countryside. One thing among the many that we remember about the city was the occasional "street" musician playing Dvorak and Bach, sometimes folk music, while tourists passed, sometimes listening, sometimes dropping a coin in the violin case or hat. An American composer traveling to Prague to have her music recorded did not make much of an impression on that world-class city, but Prague has made an indelible impression on her. Maybe I'll write a Prague Symphony!
Emma Lou Diemer is professor emeritus of the University of California, Santa Barbara; composer-in-residence with the Santa Barbara Symphony; resident organist at First Presbyterian Church in Santa Barbara. Her Concerto in One Movement for Piano was a finalist in the 1992 Kennedy Center Friedheim Awards in Orchestral Music.