Random thoughts on rondo form

Much of my writing is formal, in that it follows a standard musical form. The rondo form in particular carries a certain elegance in that the recurring A sections are memorable and are separated by new contrasting material (sections B, C, etc.). I find that if I make the A section just long enough to be memorable, the audience will anticipate its return with a sense of familiarity. Then the other contrasting sections can be longer, as they are heard only once.

Here is an example rondo form I have used recently, for the third movement of the string trio that I composed for my graduation term project. The superstructure is A B A C A Coda. The A section is in binary form:

||: a :||: b :||

Then sections B and C each feature two themes the come one after another, and then they are repeated once more with slight variation:

a b a b′

where for b′, I replace the second half of its statement with some material that is derived from both the a and b of this section. I then finished off with a coda derived from material of section B, but with much sparser notation of sustained notes, leaving the audience hungry for more. (I hope!)

On rehearsing Violin Concerto in A Minor

We had a solid rehearsal of the Violin Concerto in A minor again tonight and I must say it’s really becoming close to how I had imagined it. We spent quite a lot of time on the ritardandos at the ends of movements, and I think we are getting better at keeping in time with one another. I was especially impressed at the amount of progress everyone made since we first started learning this piece. Cheers to all!

Canker sore woes

Canker sore. A pair of words that I associate with excruciating pain. (If you already know what they are, you may want to skip the following paragraph.)

I find it socially awkward to explain what a canker sore is to someone who has never encountered them, so instead, I will have my trusty friend, Wikipedia, help out:

An aphthous ulcer (pronounced /ˈæpθəs/) also known as a canker sore, is a type of oral ulcer, which presents as a painful open sore inside the mouth or upper throat characterized by a break in the mucous membrane. Its cause is unknown, but they are not contagious. The condition is also known as aphthous stomatitis, and alternatively as Sutton's Disease, especially in the case of major, multiple, or recurring ulcers.

Maybe that wasn't the best way to describe it, but then again, how do you describe something that causes so much discomfort and pain, that people cannot see without asking you to open your mouth and peer inside?

Canker sores can affect one’s social life in several ways. When one gets a canker sore, depending on the location and severity, it can be unbearably painful to speak. Sometimes speaking is unavoidable. I work in an office-type workplace and luckily for me, I can use e-mail to explain to a co-worker why I was so withdrawn earlier. My work is also related to public health, so at least half of the staff may have some idea. But this is not always the case.

Sometimes I have to pay for food at the convenience store. If a friendly cashier tries to strike up a conversation with me, in most cases, I try my best to speak a moderate amount—not too little to give the impression that I am rude, and not too much to give the impression that I am talkative—and try my very hardest to bear the pain.

It is situations like these that explaining the circumstances—that I have a canker sore—that causes social awkwardness. What if he or she doesn’t know what a canker sore is? That would lead to more questions, or even worse, he or she may think I have some horrible contagious disease, and it is too painful to try to explain it isn’t so.

Random thoughts on mixolydian mode

The mixolydian mode is another one of my favourites. The flattened seventh softens the effect of perfect cadences from V to I. When I hear music in this mode, I often think of adventure and fantasy, a little bit playful.

Random thoughts on dorian mode

I find that much of my writing tends to gravitate towards dorian mode. I find that anything written in dorian mode has the ability to sound more sophisticated than it would be otherwise. There's something about that raised sixth that lifts me up. As if I'm floating in space, looking down at the state of the world ...