Wellerman Now Available!

Hello everyone, and happy 2021!

Since there’s been such incredible demand, I’m thrilled to announce that my arrangement of the viral sea chantey “Wellerman” is now available in a variety of voicings, with optional C instrument, lead sheet, and accompaniment tracks also available. Click on the specific version to preview/purchase.

A Minor (high voice) SATB, TTBB, TTB, SSA, Two-Part
E Minor (low voice) SATB, TTBB, TTB, SSA, Two-Part
Two-Part F minor
Two-Part C minor

(NEW!) TTBB G Minor

Lead Sheets A minor & C minor (w/ capo); E minor & F minor (with capo) (NEW!)
Opt. C Instrument A minor, E minor, C minor, F minor (NEW!)
Rehearsal Piano mp3:
A minor, E minor, F minor, C Minor (NEW!)

All are available as instant-download reproducible PDFs: make UNLIMITED copies for your choir.
Watch the Wartburg Ritterchor perform the TTBB version below (all versions match this, in various voicings/keys).

Wellerman (piano accompaniment mp3; A minor)
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Wellerman (Two-Part; A minor)
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Wellerman (piano accompaniment mp3; E minor)
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Wellerman (Three-Part/TTB; A minor)
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Wellerman (TTBB; A minor)
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Wellerman (piano accompaniment mp3; C minor)
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Wellerman (SSA; E minor)
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Wellerman (SATB; A minor)
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Wellerman (guitar)
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Wellerman (SSA; A minor)
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Wellerman Lead Sheet (A minor & C minor)
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Wellerman (opt. C instrument; A minor)
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On Publishing (Early Days)

A Dream Made Real! 

A Dream Made Real! 

For a young composer, one of the dreams you have is to see your name on a piece of professionally published music—well, at least for me. I had that dream realized earlier this year, when I got to see "Will the Rain Fall Down?" in print from Carl Fischer. 

It's an interesting phenomenon that I'm sure has all sorts of parallels for people in other professions—when you finally get that dream realized, but you've sort of seen it coming (just through the process of signing papers and discussing it with those people to whom you are infinitely grateful for making it real) your next question is... "well, what next?"

I'm excited to say that I'm fairly certain my relationship with Carl Fischer is going to continue into next year's publishing cycle—thought I can't speak with any real authority on that yet. Additionally, "Io Vivat," in a TTBB voicing, is coming out very soon through Hal Leonard and Mark Foster Music. All of these publishers have been an integral part of the industry far longer than I've been alive, and it's a true honor to enter into the professional community in this small way.

The publishing industry, by its nature, has to serve the broadest population possible in order to continue to be viable. This is great news for me, as an emerging composer, because it means I'll have the opportunity to enter new areas of the country where my music hasn't been heard before (fingers crossed). With this, I hope I can meet more people and discover what they need for their ensembles. Do directors need more quality SAB music? More TB? Different ranges to define them? How about the professional and collegiate chorus community? Is there a market for contemporary texts based on Greek and Roman myths set in a modal, mixed-meter style? Well, probably not—but I wrote it anyway, ha.

Luckily, all that music has a home on MusicSpoke.com, which, in my humble opinion, is the best distributor for those off-the-beaten-path contemporary choral works. For example, after "Journeyman's Song" was turned down by multiple traditional publishers for reasonable reasons—difficult ranges, tricky leaps and melodies, etc.—it was welcomed with open arms to MusicSpoke. It's currently being performed at SWACDA and NCACDA honor choirs, and lives on as one of my most popular works. So everything has a home, and that's wonderful. 

The point is, I'm really excited to see where things go. I'll continue to make my music available as widely as possible, and hopefully, some people out there will want to sing it.

I Know It's Been Almost a Year...

... since my last blog, but don't worry, I'm not dead or unhappy or anything. I finished my Master's Degree, got married (huzzah!) and successfully applied to Florida State University to begin my PhD in the fall. Been busy. :) 

All this to say, I am still very much composing, but the website has fallen behind a bit. Be on the lookout for changes and updates on the horizon! And check out my page on MusicSpoke for even *more* music than there currently is on here! 

-BA 7/3

Toku-Toku (Live)

From the Moxi Theatre, UNC Composer's Concert. Featuring Ashley Driscoll (piano), Tim Klingler, Will Ecker, David Klement, and myself. Not bad for only having one 20-minute rehearsal! 

Toku-Toku is written in flex-voicing for MS or HS Men's Choir. It's companion piece is Aki No Kaze, and a 3rd song for women's choir, to complete the set, is in progress. 

 

Florida

I just had the most incredible weekend! As I wrote earlier, I had the honor of Dr. Patrick Freer selecting one of my favorite compositions, Journeyman's Songas part of the program for the 2015 Florida ACDA Male Honor Choir. 

I sent a packet of my music to Dr. Freer this past summer as part of my push to get things "out there" and performed more. He sent me a very nice email saying that he'd like to program the piece: I was shocked, but quite happy! I was able to do a GoFundMe campaign to attend my first major premiere (thank you to all my friends and family who contributed!), and I've just returned home. Here are some takeaways from the trip: 

  • No surprise here, but there are some seriously incredible choirs down in Florida. I heard a mind-blowing performance by the West Orange HS Choir that stood out as particularly exceptional: they flawlessly sang Haydn with the same enthusiasm and energy as with Sten Kållman's wonderful Berusa Er.
  • Networking is a challenging but necessary task. I met several fantastic educators and directors down in Florida, and also had the pleasure to meet the composer of an awesome men's piece that was on the same program as Journeyman's Song. Check out Ryan Main
  • It's incredible to be there for the premiere of a work. The piece was graciously received, and I had the opportunity to speak first-hand to many of the young men who sang it so well. Several of them were nice enough to say that it was their favorite piece on the program, and that it was really meaningful for them. I'm most proud of this fact: Journeyman's Song doesn't "talk down" to its singers, and it just supports my knowledge that middle schoolers are hungry to sing music that expresses complicated and/or intense emotions. It's part of why I'm so interested in writing quality music for that age group. I love a good pirate song as much as anybody, but they are capable of so much more. 
  • Thanks to Dr. Freer's wonderful direction, I was able to hear Journeyman's Song for the first time outside my own head. In doing so, I learned a few things to include in the future for my scores, in particular:
    • If the piece might be interpreted with rubato but you don't want that, you have to explicitly say so. Thankfully I was there to make the tempi very clear to the choir, and to Dr. Freer's credit, he was flexible and gracious to make the change and have the piece sound the way I wanted.
    • It's helpful to perhaps include conducting gesture indications if it's not clear (Journeyman's Song is written in 3/4 for ease of reading by MS students, but should be conducted in 1). 
    • For a piece that has a countermelody instead of a harmony part, it should be indicated that the countermelody be sung with a more soloistic feel (though I of course advocate that 99% of all lines should be sung melodically, even as part of a standard chorale texture!) 
    • It might be helpful to include suggestions on microphrasing (dynamic swells, etc.), though I am also afraid that it leaves out room for interpretation if you overmark your scores. I tend to trust that the directors who choose my pieces will make intelligent decisions with regard to phrasing, just like Dr. Freer. 
    • All these changes have been made to the official score for Journeyman's Song, so future choirs can benefit from the experience. This is a major benefit to being self-published! 

With the exception of the fact that I missed my return flight (Whoops! Turns out getting up at 5 AM to get to the airport is harder than it sounds) this was a perfect trip. The weather in Florida was a nice change from the increasingly chilly temperatures we're getting in Colorado, and musically, it was just fantastic. I hope I get to go back to Florida very soon to work again! 

Grad School Life (or Lack Thereof)

Life brings with it new challenges almost every day. My biggest challenge of recent memory was the decision to go back to school to pursue my Master's Degree. As of today, I have been studying for 5 weeks--and it's unbelievable how quickly that has flown by. 

Here then, are some thoughts on grad school, from a beginner: 

  • I'm just as busy as I was teaching, only now, if I mess up, I'm really the only one affected by it (rather than before, when it was several hundred young and vulnerable people). 
  • I remember how easily I overextend myself.
  • I spend 90% of my waking time working very hard so that I can spend 10% of my time playing video games without feeling guilty. 
  • A year ago I broke up with caffeine. 3 weeks ago I asked it to take me back.
  • There is so little time to do "outside projects." I have only completed one new piece since starting school, but I have about 10 new sketches of ideas. 
  • Having dogs is a great way to meet people. 
  • My advice: if you and your significant other are both in graduate school at the same time, be prepared to never see them, unless you schedule time. 
  • Remember having money? That was nice, wasn't it?
  • Try as I might, even if I go fullscreen, I can't see my entire calendar in a single view. This is very, very depressing.
  • I am learning an incredible amount from my professors. 
  • I am surrounded by extremely talented musicians. 
  • I am going to be so much better off having done this.

Playing by the Book

So, for the past several years, I'll admit, I've occasionally skirted the edge of legality in a handful of my compositions. Often, I've found myself setting texts without permission, hoping (later on) to obtain it. Most of the time, I've been successful. But not always. And so, I've made a conscious effort in the past several months to get myself in the habit of "playing by the book." Turns out though, playing by the book can be an extremely frustrating experience. 

For example: I recently set a text by a very well-known poet, without first asking for permission (my mistake). I did this because I knew this poet's estate was notoriously stingy with granting rights, and I wanted to show them that the setting I composed would honor the poet's life and legacy. Upon requesting permission, with a proof copy of the setting, I was promptly told that by even creating this arrangement (not even distributing it) that I was in violation of copyright law and should desist immediately or risk legal action. 

Alright, lesson learned. I re-set the music with a new text (my own) and swore off that poet, sadly, forever. 

So the solution is to just always ask permission before setting a text, correct? 

Nope. In pursuit of permissions to set a variety of other texts, I have found a huge discrepancy in the amount of work that poets, their estates, and their publishers want before granting permission. Some want you to ask permission before setting anything. Some want you to already have a music publisher lined up, with an estimated run of the initial printing. I've encountered every other possible "stopping point" on this spectrum as well. 

The problem is that the majority of music publishers, when receiving unsolicited manuscripts for consideration, require permission of the poet. 

So what's a new composer to do? Do I create a setting of a text without asking permission, at the risk of later being told I don't have permission, thereby wasting a huge amount of time? Or do I always ask permission first, at the risk of being told "you need to have a publisher first?" How does one get a publisher for a piece that hasn't been written yet? 

All this to say, the lack of standardization across the industry is surely what has led so many composers to only set works that are in the public domain. This is a huge problem, because it means that a huge chunk of contemporary poetry is, by and large, unavailable for musical setting. If we only set texts that have already been set a thousand times over, or texts that don't speak to us as contemporary singers and audiences, our art will eventually flounder. 

I'm sure if I were an "established" composer with a publishing company behind me, a lot of these problems wouldn't be so troubling. Yet the extreme difficulty getting permission to set texts is also the reason that many composers have trouble breaking into the industry, I'm convinced. 

Artists, of all kinds, need communities and doors to be open to their work. I've encountered a lot of doors that seem to have several locks on them of late. Anybody have the keys? 

What's Love Got to do With it?

Every artist has that little naggy feeling in the back of their mind every time they create something:

This sucks.
You suck.
Stop sucking. 

So what do you do with that feeling? You have to shut it down and ignore it. At least partially. The best advice I can give you is to listen to "Die Vampire, Die" from one of my favorite musicals, [Title of Show] (warning: explicit language).

But even after you've decided to buckle down and just make that art, sometimes you still have those weird little thoughts creep in unexpectedly--and about the dumbest things. I recently finished writing a Christmas carol with lyrics by Louisa May Alcott (find it in "High School" works). It's intentionally modal in the first section, and I wrote in lots of parallel fifths to reinforce that. Now, I write with parallel fifths and octaves all the time, because I like the way they sound. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I still see my undergraduate theory professor marking up all my scores with red pen: WRONG!

I know that there's a lot of precedent in the 20th century for composers deliberately writing parallelism into their music. I also know that the "rule" of parallel fifths was really just a reaction to the distinct sound of plainchant. Still, somewhere along the way, these ideas just get stuck in my mind somehow.

In the end, I think the only correct answer, if you trust yourself and your craft, is to go "Do I like the way that sounds?" If the answer is unequivocally and undeniably "yes," then you shouldn't change it. 

Consonant Alignment

As choir directors, we talk a lot about "vowel alignment," but today I want to discuss alignment of a different kind: that on the printed page. 

One of the interesting things that I learned from Dr. James Jordan during his clinic earlier this week (which was such a small detail that I had never even noticed it) is that, in original chant notation, the notation of the neumes (notes) line up with the vowel of the Latin text, not the consonant. In this way, it helps the singer visually identify that the vowel is what carries the sound, and that the consonants should be "dropped in," not over-emphasized. This is good vocal technique, and we all know it, but I never realized how helpful that could be until we began singing chant together. Small though it may be, it makes a difference! Take a look at the example below. 

Click the image to access the video this was taken, which shows that this is a consistent standard of chant notation.

Click the image to access the video this was taken, which shows that this is a consistent standard of chant notation.

Now, this got me thinking about something about something I've been pretty adamant about in my own notation for some time now, which is where to place the consonants in multi-syllable words. For example, in Tonic of Wildness, mm. 13-15: 

Notice how the word "under" is notated, with the "n" on the second syllable, rather than the first. In traditional notation, you would see it like this: 

... which may be easier to read, but to my mind, when I see "un-der," it makes me (as a singer) subconsciously want to close to the "n" consonant. In fact, when I have explained how we "sing on the vowel" to my own students, I have had multiple ask me: "Then why is it written like that?" To which I am forced to reply: "That's just the way it's done." 

Well, not in my house. To make my music easier to sing on the vowel, I consistently notate my lyrics ending on a vowel when at all possible. 

 

Now, this can sometimes get a little hairy, admittedly, like in this case from Where the Sidewalk Ends, (now "The Moment") mm. 21-22, where the word "asphalt" looks like a nasty consonant-cluster. But would you really like your kids to go to the "s" early on the word "asphalt?" Think about it. 

 

Sometimes I even take it further, like in Prayers of Steel, mm. 2-4:

You can see that the word "anvil" has been re-aligned, as has already been explained: but I've also extended the word "God" to not even include the "d" until the cutoff. In this case, it's because I explicitly want a strong shadow vowel on the cutoff. But is it appropriate in other places? 

For example, today I'm working on a setting of Maya Angelou's "Caged Bird," and there is a passage like this: 

Following my own logic, it should say "free-do-----(m)."
In all honesty, I would prefer to notate it that way. But just like the "transposition/concert pitch" issue, or the fact that (by and large) we still notate rhythms using confusing time signatures like 3/8 and 6/8 instead of the far more logical system provided by Carl Orff (see right), I'm afraid that some notational headaches may be here to stay. If we begin to "give in" to all the pressures to re-notate things so that they are "easier to read" we may have a huge mess on our hands, and then no one will perform our music.

Still, if anybody wants to start a revolution... you know where to find me. 

Sing We, and Chant it?

I just had the immense pleasure of attending the Colorado ACDA convention up in Denver for another year. This was my third time attending, and I continue to be amazed by how much there is to take away. This year's session leaders included the phenomenal Drs. James Jordan and Tony Guzmán, along with several other wonderful educators from right here in Colorado. 

Because I see myself equally as a conductor and composer, my brain at these conventions is sometimes a little scattered. I'll often be simultaneously looking for new texts to set, new composers whose work is unique and interesting, networking (something I recognize as a necessary evil), and any new thoughts that I can impart into my teaching and writing.

One of the biggest things that I took away from this year's convention; however, was Dr. Jordan's emphasis on Chant as the basic DNA of what we (who are steeped in the western european art music tradition) do as singers. As the beginning of our recorded musical history--with the exception of a small number of works from antiquity--Chant's emphasis on text centricity and melodic construction has informed everything we do as choral artists.

I'm often asked what sort of "style" my works fit into, and I find I have a hard time putting that down. There are certainly "tricks" that I employ often, but I think if you were to compare several of my works, the one consistent unifying trait (I hope) you would find is that the text drives the setting. Whether it be the romantic lines of La Vita Nuova, the raucous multimeter of Io Vivat, or the immensely personal and autobiographical poetic vignettes of Susurrations, the text is the starting point for almost all of my work. This is often why many of my works are through-composed, as well: if the text doesn't repeat, I need a pretty good reason to include an exact replica of musical material as well. 

Come to think of it, this may also be why I'm equally drawn to folk music and musical theatre. While the chord structures underneath Patty Griffin's music, for example, certainly aren't revolutionary, she has a unique and beautiful gift for crafting melodies that suit the words perfectly. Stephen Sondheim, by contrast, has been critiqued for not writing "hummable melodies," (garbagein. my. opinion.) but his works always take us on a journey from beginning to end, a lesson he learned from Oscar Hammerstein. Chant embodies each of these traits, in its own way, and I have no doubt it will continue to influence my art as I continue to grow as a conductor and composer. 

By the way, I had written it long before attending this year's session, but here is a chant of my own, called "Make the Earth Your Companion," which is to be part of my forthcoming choral song cycle for women's chorus. The phenomenal meditative text is by J. Patrick Lewis.

Puzzle-Solving

The answer was "Steen," by the way. And I made another mistake: 54 down was "I won," not "I win." 

The answer was "Steen," by the way. And I made another mistake: 54 down was "I won," not "I win." 

I just recently started doing crossword puzzles. I have a lot of fond memories from growing up, sitting around with my grandfather and my dad trying to solve one together. We must have killed hours that way, (with me being easily the least helpful person in the world)  trying to remember the order of the letters in the Greek alphabet or who the 15th President was without cheating. 

I occasionally tried them by myself, but always found them to be too frustrated for my mind to handle. Not too long ago; though, I discovered the NY Times has an app where you can do their crosswords. Of course, me being a (certified) non-genius, I can only do the easy ones so far. 

Of course, being the type of person I am, I can't help but see a lot of parallels between doing these puzzles and composing--at least for me. Without any thought to order, here's a few of them:

  • The answers you put down first influence and limit the choices you have later. 
  • You will sometimes (rarely, the better you get) have to cheat and look something up.  
  • Often times, you'll have a problem, get absolutely stuck, and have to come back to it three or four times--sometimes days or weeks apart--before you finally get the answer. You just go on to another one in the meantime. 
  • When you finish, you yourself are the person who is the most proud.  
  • Very often, you'll think you're done, only to find out that you have made several egregious errors: some of them are just typos--but most of them are because you were just plain wrong. 
  • Most often, you will need to spend a great deal of time alone to finish.
  • You will experience 20 moments where it is a struggle to finish for every 1 where you breeze through easily. 
  • The more you do it, the easier it gets. Then you take it to the "next level," and it seems impossible all over again. 
  • You will acquire a unique and otherwise useless vocabulary which can be used as a "bag of tricks" to help you out of a bind or move you towards completion faster. 
  • You are uniquely aware of how many people are out there who are so much better  at this than you. Depending on your mood, you will either look at these geniuses with envy or awe. 

I'm sure there are more (there always is, with everything, isn't there?) but you'll have to excuse me: it's late and I think I can squeeze in one more before I fall asleep. It's better than Candy Crush, right? 

I Should Get Out More

I'm a naturally introverted person* so spending time alone is not a problem for me. In fact, I really enjoy it. Every now and then, I'll think of a friend that I need to call; or my fiancé, Ryan, and I will host a games night; but generally speaking, I'm not the sort of person who just "hangs out" with other people. This is probably because, even when I'm by myself, I rarely just "hang out." There's always an activity of some sort,  even if it's as ridiculous as watching television for nine hours. 

This summer, I've had a lot of alone time, due to the fact that I'm not teaching (with the exception of a handful of voice lessons) and Ryan is working full-time during his summer break (bless him, truly). This has meant I have been able to compose with a lot more frequency than I normally do. In the past 6 weeks, I've averaged two new compositions a week, which is phenomenal, for me at least. Six hours a day writing will get you that occasionally. None of these are life-altering works, but they are all things that I've come to be quite proud of, if I must say. 

At the same time, I just took the dogs for a walk, and man, did the sun feel good. So I guess the struggle for balance continues.

*INFJ, if you're curious--though I find that generally only other INFJ's are.

 

On a Tiny Milestone

I recently found out that my piece, "Journeyman's Song," was selected to be part of the program for the 2015 FLACDA Men's Honor Choir Convention. I was immediately ecstatic: "My work is going to be performed at a major choral event!" Weirdly enough though, I almost as quickly started to feel some strange apprehensiveness about it. 

"Shouldn't you just write your music and enjoy that process?"

"Why should you care if anyone likes your music? You write for yourself, remember?"

"This isn't even that big of a deal. Stop getting excited."

And I guess there's some truth to all of that. I do write music for myself, because it's a creative outlet and I enjoy the process; I do value my own opinion on whether my music is quality; and, in the grand scheme of things, I suppose this one performance isn't that big of a deal. 

Still...

On a practical level, there's the hope that this will open some doors. Not that I want to be some famous composer--I am not equipped to handle such things--but after spending years working on your craft, there's always that small part of you that wants more people to appreciate it. 

And I won't lie: it's nice to have a little external validation. It makes you feel like what you're doing is worth something to someone else. I think all artists appreciate someone telling them: "You know that thing you spent hours on, that you spent all your free time crafting instead of watching TV or spending time with your family or getting a good night's rest? That thing is good, and you should be proud of it." 

So while I'm hoping this is the start of something--rather than a flash in the pan--until then, I'm just going to keep working hard, writing music and telling myself "If I like it, that's good enough." I think all artists need a lot of that motivation too.