Why Philip Glass?

If you polled an auditorium of average Americans to identify works by a living composer, the one most would know would be Philip Glass, if not by name then by style.

When I listen to music, I choose the music of our time. We rarely go to hear the programs performed by the San Francisco Philharmonic or Silicon Valley Symphony.

Do we need to hear another Brahms sonata or Beethoveen anything? Yes, of course. When "classical" music was the pop of its era (at least for royalty and the bourgeousie), it reflected European social conventions and tastes. We can also hear how classical music tropes, hacks and genius have been adapted or just blatantly stolen by comtemporary composers.

The minimalist pieces by Philip Glass—especially those composed as film scores—are what I would consider the soundtrack of the 21st century: urban, repititious but ever-changing, and often but not always beautiful.

They also make good practice pieces for someone like me, who only started playing piano after a three decade break. The running arpeggios for which Glass is known make excellent etudes. It's same reason I learned the opening Promenade to Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition" when I was 14 and struggling with big chords and dynamics.

Philip Glass in Concert

I'd recommend that anyone with an interest in Glass or contemporary music in general go see him in concert. He was born in 1937, so sooner is better.

I was fortunate to see Philip Glass perform his études at Davies Hall in San Francisco in 2016. Some of the pieces are mind-boggling complex, the kind of music where it's hard to believe that someone learned them from dots and squiggles on a piece of paper. By comparison, the piece I'm attempting is child's play.

Playing "The Hours"

A great film deserved a great score. "The Hours" shows us predicaments repeated across time, with each protagonists responding in turn while bound by the societal norms of the era. The screenplay was by David Hare, a personal favorite.

I can't imagine the producers or director Stephen Daldry considered a composer other than Glass. The same can be said of Paul Schrader's film "Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters", where Glass' score brilliantly underscores the over-the-top theatricality of the visuals. "The Hours" contains several themes, from stalwart to hopeful to resolute. I sightread most of the piece, but the arpeggios in the second section are what took weeks of practice.

Playing Arpeggios: Triplets Over Eighth Notes

Philip Glass' compositions are notable for their repeated use of arpeggios, often in the form of eighth note triplets on one hand and eighth notes on the other.

This is maddening at first. To play 8th note triplets (three notes per beat) on the right hand while simulteneously playing straight eighth notes (two notes per beat) on the left is a lot like the child's game of pat your head and rub your stomach. The rhythms both begin on beat one and beat three, but what's played between isn't neatly synchronized.

Here's an example using sixteenth notes...

It reminds me a bit of gamalan, where the intervals between notes are often filled by another player—or perhaps the patterns formed by a flock of birds over the sea.

Playing: Pacing

As I noted prior, I tend to rush. Piano, saxophone, bassoon—it doesn't really matter. I used to chalk this up to a competitive nature, but I think it mostly springs from not playing in an ensemble for too long. I've been working for the past five years to correct it, even though playing to a metronome is deadly dull and robotic.

As of today, I'm stuck on the final section of the piece, which involves big jumps on the left hand synchronized to some unusual chords on the right. Once I get it down, I'll post it so you can have a listen.