You Can't Practice What's Not Yet Written

I hope I don’t come to regret posting raw recordings of half-written music. The neurotic pianist in me with a mindset to sculpt gestures and interpretive ideas to a chiseled perfection, cringes at the thought of publicly sharing work that is so obviously not ready for consumption.

And yet I recognize how important this is – artists seldom share their unpolished work-in-progress ideas, yet I’ve found it’s the very thing people find most interesting. As you listen, keep in mind that I’m often searching for notes that are either unfinished or hinted at somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain. Recording and sharing while still unfinished provides me with a more objective sense where the music is going, or wants to go. I’m all for planning but the creative process works best (for me) when allowed to develop organically and take on a life of its own. I allow the editing to follow the direction of the content: adjusting and revising after the fact, figuring out through equal parts analysis and epiphany just what it is I’m trying to say. It’s a huge leap of faith that now seems quite normal.

This excerpt covers the first seven and a half minutes, expanding on what I’m calling the Corea theme - lots of syncopation, harmonies built on fourths, and a rhythmic drive that moves forward continually with great energy.

About four minutes into the piece, things slow down considerably as a prominent left hand melody emerges. This section is questioning and searching; seeking new ground and a sort of respite but from what I’m not entirely clear.

This music seems influenced by Franz Liszt’s solo piano work Vallée Dobermann from the Swiss Years of Pilgrimage collection. I never really appreciated this composition unit rediscovering it at the start of writing Seventeen Minutes and Twenty-Two Seconds. To my ears there’s also a little bit of Samuel Barber mixed in, a composer I admire but not one I normally draw inspiration from.

Sometimes we get ideas not from the things we value most, but from the things we recently discover or can’t quite figure out.

It’s all a mystery, but a wonderful one.

Kurt Erickson