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Prizing American Music

Frank J. Oteri
Frank J. Oteri
Photo by Melissa Richard

Over the years, I have frequently bemoaned the fact that there is no Nobel Prize for Music. While only in my most musically zealous moments I’d claim that musical contributions are as significant as strides toward world peace, even in my soberest moments I know in my heart that musical contributions are at least as significant as literary ones and literature is my second love. The Nobel Prize has introduced me along with people from around the world to many an unfamiliar writer, often the Prize is a guarantor that the works of a foreign author whose works have not appeared in English will finally be translated. But what about music, that so-called universal language, which does not need translation in order to reach all of us…

We have made up for the lack of a Nobel Prize in Music with a variety of lesser accolades, many of which are described in Adam B. Silverman’s HyperHistory this month. Chief among American musical composition awards in renown is probably the Pulitzer Prize, an award initially established for Journalism during the First World War and later extending its domain to literature, theater, and finally music in the mid 1940s. Although the Pulitzer in Music has been awarded to many important composers and to works which have gone on to become part of the canon of American classical music (e.g. Copland’s Appalachian Spring, Ives’s Third Symphony, Barber’s Vanessa, two of Carter’s string quartets) and many of today’s most visible figures include a Pulitzer among their honors (David Del Tredici, Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, Christopher Rouse, Aaron Jay Kernis, Wynton Marsalis…) But there have been many Pulitzer Prize winning works that have receded into reportorial oblivion. (When’s the last time you’ve heard John La Montaine’s Piano Concerto or Douglas Moore’s opera Giants in the Earth?) And several recent prize-winning pieces, including three from the past decade, have never even been recorded (Shulamit Ran’s Symphony, George Walker’s Lilacs, Wayne Peterson’s The Face of the Night, The Heart of the Dark…), which begs the question: Does the Pulitzer Prize ultimately have any relevance?

The list of great American composers who never won the Pulitzer Prize is even more daunting than the list of those who won – Milton Babbitt, John Cage, Morton Feldman, Andrew Imbrie, Harry Partch, Lou Harrison, Steve Reich, Meredith Monk, Ornette Coleman… In recent years, the Pulitzer Prize in Music has come under attack for being an “old boys’ club” impervious to music beyond its stylistic prejudices, and a quick survey of all past winners will reveal that no self-published composition has ever won the award and most award-winners have been based in the East Coast. At the same time, although it may seem obvious, it is important to note that the only pieces eligible to win are pieces that are actually submitted and if you’re self-published, no one’s going to do it for you.

What are we to make of this year’s winner, Lewis Spratlan, a composer well outside the usual circles who has been based at Amherst College for the past 30 years and whose winning work, the second act of an opera, was composed over 22 years ago? There has been some banter in the music community about there being a connection between Spratlan’s winning the award and the fact that Gunther Schuller, Spratlan’s teacher at Yale as well as the founder of Margun Music, his publisher, was the chairman of this year’s Pulitzer committee), but after several hours in the company of Lew Spratlan I am convinced that he is not an “insider” in any way. Of course the line between insider and outsider can be very blurry as he admits in the conversation we had with him at Amherst which we offer here in a complete transcription with QuickTime streaming video excerpts. How does winning the Pulitzer Prize affect your career as a composer? We asked Wayne Peterson, Christopher Rouse, Charles Wuorinen and Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, and received our typical “Hymn and Fuguing Tune” variety of responses. John Luther Adams would like to know what non-winning pieces of music you think should have won the Pulitzer Prize.

And if you thought this covers all there is to cover about music composition prizes, there are announcements about even more additional prizes in this month’s news including information about the 1999 Serge Koussevitzky Awards, the Ernst Von Siemens Foundation, the Philadelphia Orchestra Centennial Composition Competition, the 2000 ASCAP-Morton Gould Young Composer Awards, and more… Of course, there is still lots herein about great pieces of American music that haven’t been acknowledged with big, prestigious awards, such as a fascinating array of new recordings and concerts all over the map.

Soundtracks: June 2000

SoundTracksIt is perhaps poetic justice that concurrent with our issue inspired by the winner of the 2000 Pulitzer Prize in Music that Bridge Records has released the world premiere recording of the Pulitzer winner from 1999, Melinda Wagner’s Flute Concerto. There are a number of other Pulitzer alumni among the featured composers this month: Howard Hanson (Winner of the 1948 Pulitzer), represented here by his little-known solo piano music; Mario Davidovsky (Winner of the 1971 Pulitzer), represented with a retrospective disc featuring mostly works of the past decade; Ned Rorem (Winner of the 1976 Pulitzer), who is included on a disc of recent choral music; and Samuel Barber (two-time winner), who is one of 11 composers featured on a recital disc dedicated to art songs based on the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins. And they’re not the only winners represented here. Michael John LaChiusa’s Marie Christine has been nominated for a Tony Award for Best Original Musical Score. And, three-time Academy Award-winning composer Miklós Rózsa is represented by a disc of his should-have-received-major-awards-but-didn’t concertos. (Another disc this month features concert works by five American film composers.)

Many of the great names in American music who made it into our “Why Didn’t They Ever Win A Pulitzer?” Hall of Fame are here as well: Otto Luening, with a beautifully-packaged collection of his art songs; Earle Brown, with a remarkable re-issue of some of his early masterpieces; Morton Feldman, with a complete collection of his music for violin and piano featuring the bizarre For John Cage (one of his rare forays into microtonality); George Antheil, with yet another recording of his until-this-year long unavailable symphonies; Ruth Crawford Seeger, with a brilliantly-performed set of chamber works; and John Adams, with a new recording of his violin concerto. Philip Glass’s violin concerto is featured in two separate recordings this month: the first paired with the Adams, the other on an all-Glass Naxos disc (pretty amazing, huh) featuring some mysterious booklet notes. There’s even a new all-Glass CD on Nonesuch featuring the long awaited Symphony No. 3 which I’m thrilled to finally hear in not-bootleg-quality fidelity!

There are also three discs of free improvisation featuring Joel Futterman (provocatively-titled Authenticity, Relativity, and Revelation), and a new disc of orchestral music by Victor Herbert, as well as discs featuring big band compositions by Sam Rivers, vocal music by Daniel Asia, solo piano music by Carson Kievmann and another disc featuring solo piano works by seven different composers, small combo jazz recordings by Hal Gamper and Ravi Coltrane, a disc of chamber music by Richard Wilson, and a disc of chamber works by four SCI member-composers that blurs the boundaries between classical chamber music and jazz.

Just when you thought you heard it all before, there’s always something startlingly new that lands on the desk and this month is no different. Jay Cloidt‘s collection of altered cat and baby sounds and disco-savvy string quartet is a good way to lighten up a potentially cynical morning. Sampler pioneer Barton McLean‘s Happy Days, included on a new collection of his electronic works on CRI, is also guaranteed to brighten up the room. A re-issue collecting works by Edwin London features some really surprising extended vocal writing and two new discs devoted to works by members of the Bang On A Can all-stars take the notion of totalism ever further than the term normally implies. The music of Nick Didkovsky combines the sonic universes of post-Bitches Brew electric free jazz and the post-modernist string quartet. And Evan Ziporyn combines progressive rock and Balinese gamelan.

Keep Your Ears on the Prize: A Hyperhistory of American Composition Awards

Adam Silverman
Adam Silverman
Photo by Melissa Richard

I used tell people at parties that I flew helicopters, even though I have never ridden in one and don’t know anything about piloting. But the story would draw people in, and by the time they discovered my lie, they would be primed to disbelieve the truth: that I write classical music. A commonly heard response from these people would be that they didn’t know that classical composers still lived, as if this career had gone the way of obsolete careers like Dodo Trainer or 8-Track Repairman.

But composers do exist, and we have established a community to preserve and celebrate our art. One of the ways that we assert our importance is by decorating each other with prizes, both honorary and monetary. There are a wide variety of honors available to composers, and although most are passed from one musician to the next, a few come from outside and reassure us that we are valued by our greater culture.

The best known of these awards is the Pulitzer Prize, which is given for an outstanding American work receiving its premiere that year. Since the Pulitzer is largely a prize for journalists, it receives great media attention, and places the names of composers before a vast literate public. Like the Pulitzer, the Grawemeyer Award recognizes an outstanding recently premiered composition. The Grawemeyer, however, is an international prize based in America, and it comes with a different kind of prize: $200,000.

Only two awards exceed the Grawemeyer in sum. The MacArthur Fellowship is a five-year salary that can come to a composer in any stage of their career and ranges from $30,000 to $75,000 depending on the recipient’s age. It comes with absolutely no strings attached and, like the Pulitzer, can be received by people in many fields. The Charles Ives Living is a new award established by the American Academy of Arts and Letters to boost under-recognized composers with $225,000 over three years that may be supplemented by commission fees and fellowships but not with a regular salary. The American Academy of Arts and Letters, in addition to the Ives Living Award, gives a great range of composer awards that totaled $170,000 this year. There are AAAL awards for composers in all stages of their careers in concert music and musical theater.

Like the Ives Living, other awards exist to give composers uninterrupted creative time. The most famous of these fellowships is the Rome Prize, which has been a coveted opportunity for composers since 1921. A similar program was begun this year at the American Academy in Berlin, which promises to become another major opportunity for composers to live and work abroad. And, of course, the Guggenheim Fellowship continues to be an important award which is difficult to attain despite the fact that it is available to several composers each year.

For those whose music receives commercial success through recordings, it is possible to win Grammy Awards from the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Two awards give $50,000 to recognize a composer’s entire body of work. The Herb Alpert Award from California Institute for the Arts is given annually to early and mid-career composers, and generally represents the more experimental end of the aesthetic spectrum. The William Schuman Award from Columbia University is given irregularly and honors the lifetime achievement of “Uptown” conservatives, all of whom have taught at Juilliard with the special exception of Gunther Schuller.

Many people begin their careers as award-winning students, and there are many competitions in which young composers can begin to establish their name throughout the musical community. Some of these, regrettably, are established by ensembles who charge hefty entrance fees and offer in return a meager performance or small prize to the winning composition. There are two organizations, however, who have long histories of presenting student awards for the sole purpose of encouraging young talent. BMI and ASCAP both have parallel awards programs which have gotten scores of composers off to a good start. ASCAP also has a range of commissions which function as awards and give early-career composers their first performances by classical and jazz orchestras.

Kyle Gann, who has been a longstanding advocate for experimental “downtown” music, addresses the subject of awards in his article “Breaking the Chain Letter: An Essay on Downtown Music“, which astutely reveals the narrow bias of some of these prizes. It is evident that certain composers who share aesthetic preferences are in charge of determining what music is deserving of praise. In most cases, prize winners return as future jurors, and a cycle is established which reinforces certain traditional musical qualities and similarly influences American concert life.

It should be kept in mind, however, that awards rarely make a career. A few heart-warming tales are told about the cascading effects of winning several awards in quick succession, but ultimately a composer must stand on his or her musical talent and performance record. For the most part, these awards offer only money and sometimes temporary support to facilitate the creative process.

Incidental to the awards themselves are the contacts that are made between emerging and established composers. Martin Bresnick, who later would win the Charles Ives Living and the Berlin Prize, began his career as a Rome Prize applicant. At 26 years of age, his application was evaluated by guest panelist Toru Takemitsu, who not only helped convince the panel to send Bresnick to Rome, but also went out of his way to recommend him for a teaching position at Yale. More than 25 years later, Bresnick now heads the department there.

And 1998 Pulitzer Prize winner Aaron Jay Kernis, whose career began by winning many student composer awards, tells a sobering story about his first major orchestra performance. At 23 years of age, he was selected by Jacob Druckman to have his work Dream of the Morning Sky for soprano and orchestra read by the New York Philharmonic. It was a “rehearsed reading,” and an audience of orchestra subscribers attended. Microphones were given both to Kernis and to conductor Zubin Mehta, who communicated throughout the rehearsal about appropriate tempi and uses of the orchestra. Kernis felt that Mehta was “testing” his conception of the work and belittling his work, and at one point when Mehta complained about Kernis having obscured the soprano with the orchestra, Kernis courageously replied “Maestro, you’re just playing it too loud.” The audience spontaneously burst into applause, and many of the orchestra members lauded Kernis afterward for his brave stance.

Members of the press who attended were amused by Kernis’s bravado, and this event became national news: the story of this courageous young composer standing up for what he wrote was reported in articles in Newsweek, Time, High Fidelity/Musical America, and The New York Times.

Kernis felt that success was just around the corner, but over the next few weeks, he received no calls from managers, no calls for orchestras wishing to commission him, and eventually the celebrity of this event subsided. “It taught me how the classical music world works for
composers.” He relates. “At the time, I thought this was a great thing… but it was just a piece on an orchestra concert… I had to pick up and keep going.” So although Kernis’s career has been distinguished with many great prizes, commissions and honors, these have come about in a slow, cumulative fashion, through tenacity and devotion to the creative process. “Being a composer is not about what comes from outside,” he says. “It is about the need to create, the need to express.”

So whether one is elated from winning or discouraged by losing, it may help to embrace the sentiment of Suzan-Lori Parks, playwright and 1996 Alpert Award recipient: “What I realize is that, for all the awards I get and all the public and private praise and all the boosts–it always all comes down to the work at hand… The day-to-day sitting in front of the blank page or the blank screen–the day-to-day difficult difficult difficult working out of each moment, each word, each line.”

But for those of you who have been poring over this article seeking clues on how to procure these coveted awards for yourselves, I have discovered simple rules for success…

Write great music and be recognized for it. Or write lousy music and fool jurors. This answer may be disappointing, but certain pieces of common-sense advice may prove helpful to aspiring winners. Perseverance counts for quite a lot. Juries change, styles come in and out of vogue, and your music (hopefully) keeps getting better. Above all, keep writing and making sure that your music is heard. Hold yourself to the highest standards. Remember the example of Conlon Nancarrow, the reclusive composer who, after years of composing unperformable music for player pianos, won a MacArthur Genius Award. Remember Charles Ives, whose music was rarely heard until he was in his late 60’s. Remember Melinda Wagner, who was repeatedly nominated for an American Academy of Arts and Letters award for ten years before finally receiving it.

And if you still don’t win anything, jurors must be jealously fearful of your talent.

The American Academy of Arts and Letters‘ elite pantheon includes many of the greatest contributors to intellectual life in America in the fields of music, art, and literature. Limited to 250 individuals, membership is awarded only upon the death of previous members. No monetary prize accompanies the induction, but being elected to the Academy is certainly one of music’s greatest honors.

Membership in the AAAL primarily involves distribution of the awards listed below, which are given by nomination and cannot be applied for. Members can nominate awardees in any discipline, but a panel of composer members determines the music winners. In 2000, this group included Robert Ward, Jack Beeson, Andrew Imbrie, Ezra Laderman, Ned Rorem, George Perle, Joan Tower, and George Walker. Winning any of these awards involves gaining the respect of this panel, the membership of which changes only slightly over time.

If you covet these awards, there are forty-four Academy composers to whom you may plead your case, but be forewarned that pestering members may not be helpful. This is strictly an “insider’s” award, and the Academy stresses that it should not be contacted with requests for applications.

AAAL awards are named for their benefactors, and many of them are in the name of Charles Ives, whose wife donated all royalties earned from performances of his music to the Academy. From this initial donation came three award-categories, which are given to a total of eight composers each year, and one extremely lucky composer every third year.

The Charles Ives Living Award

The newest Academy award for composers is the Charles Ives Living, awarded triannually. Initiated in 1998, this is the largest monetary award given exclusively to an American composer. At $225,000, it is exceeded in sum only by the MacArthur Fellow Program (the “Genius Award”), which is available to individuals in any area of expertise. The first recipient honored with The Charles Ives Living was Martin Bresnick, a Yale professor who, though extensively honored with commissions and prizes, had primarily been known as a teacher whose prodigal students included David Lang, Michael Torke, Julia Wolfe, Carlos Sanchez-Gutierrez, and many other composers who came to the fore in the 1980’s and 90’s.

The Ives Living’s mission seems perfectly tailored to Bresnick. The award was established to offer a professional boost to mid-career composers of under-recognized mastery. Ives himself was the inspiration for this award, since he composed without substantial acclaim while earning his living as an insurance executive.

The terms of this award stipulate that the honored composer must give up (or take temporarily leave of, in Bresnick’s case) their day-job, and devote their energies to composition and the advancement of a musical career. For Bresnick, this has included the publication of his catalog by Carl Fischer, completion of four major works, the CD release of his Opera Della Musica Povera, a residency at the American Academy in Rome (he was a Rome Prize winner in 1976), and soon a residency at the American Academy in Berlin. Business has improved dramatically for him as well, and his music has begun to be performed widely throughout America and abroad.

The prize, then, suggests that the American Academy of Arts and Letters bestows their faith on the recipient’s talent and motivation, and Bresnick suggests that this makes one “hold yourself to the highest standard.” While the Pulitzer and Grawemeyer prizes are “crowns” that honor accomplishment, the Ives Living is a “Grail” which, once attained, leads to greater things.

And how does an institution like Yale react when the head of its department is whisked away by this honor? Bresnick commends Yale for its generosity and commitment to seeing him return, but suggests that this might not be the case for future winners. The idea of a three-year leave of absence is likely to be too much for some institutions, and the honored composer may have to quit their job altogether.

Like the other prizes awarded by the American Academy of Arts and Letters, there is no application for the Ives Living. Strictly chosen by nomination, recipients must be known by members of the Academy.

Academy Awards in Music

Four composers receive this award of $7,500, which “honors lifetime achievement and acknowledges the composer who has arrived at his or her own voice.” Each of these composers also receives $7,500 toward the recording of one work. The 2000 Academy Award winners were Sebastian Currier, Libby Larsen, David Rakowski, and Melinda Wagner. Not an honor given freely, Wagner persevered through several nominations over a span of ten years before finally receiving this award.

Wladimir and Rhoda Lakond Award

Inaugurated in 1993, this award is generally given to a composer in mid-career. Past winners include Robert Aldridge (2000), David Stock (1999), and Wendell Logan (1998).

Goddard Lieberson Fellowship

Started by the CBS Foundation in memory of Columbia Masterworks founder Goddard Lieberson, this award goes the composers who have finished their formal education (and are thus ineligible for the Ives Scholarships) but are still in the early stages of their careers. Some notable past winners of this award include Michael Daugherty (1991), Peter Lieberson (1984), Robert Xavier Rodriguez (1980), and Gerald Levinson (1979).

Walter Hinrichson Award

The C. F. Peters Corporation, who turned over the selection process to the Academy in 1984, established this award. The Academy recommends the work of one composer each year to be published by Peters, generally a small chamber composition. For some composers, this has been the first in a series distributed by this publisher, including Ross Bauer, Richard Festinger, and Martin Boykan. Ursula Mamlok, who won this award in 1989, had already been published by Peters for many years. More commonly, though, this will be the composer’s only work in the Peters catalog, and few winners of this award have made commercially successful contributions to Peters.

Charles Ives Fellowships

Annually, two composers in mid-career win this $15,000 award, which was the first established by Harmony Ives. The 2000 winners were Carlos Sanchez-Gutierrez and Gregory T.S. Walker.

Charles Ives Scholarships

This award goes to eight young composers who each receive a $7,500 scholarship. These composers are typically earning Masters and Doctoral degrees at elite northeastern music schools and, since they have not yet had time to establish public careers, are frequently students of Academy members.

Richard Rodgers Award

Established by the renowned composing partner of Lorenz Hart and Oscar Hammerstein II, the Richard Rodgers Award goes not to a composer but directly to the staged reading of a work for musical theater. One to five winners are selected each year, depending on the jury’s bent. If one shows outstanding promise, the entire award can be given to one musical. If four or five show equal merit, then smaller awards will be given to each. The jury also has freedom to not award the entire available sum, which could be as much as $100,000. The staged readings take place in New York City, and they are arranged directly by the Academy.

It may be hard to believe that so much good has been brought to the arts by the composer of “Spanish Flea,” but Herb Alpert (founder of Tijuana Brass and the “A” from A&M Records) has provided one of the largest annual awards given to an American composer. At $50,000, these awards are funded by a non-profit, private foundation established by Alpert to support a range of programs in education and the arts.

Established and first given in 1995 at The California Institute of the Arts, the Alpert Award is one of the newest awards for composition and is designed to recognize the work of artists who are “particularly responsive to the complex, challenging and fertile role of the artist in society.” In practice, this means that the award goes especially to composers who work outside the mainstream. Those who deal with improvisation, digital media, and performance art are more likely to win this award. The first recipient was saxophonist/composer James Carter, who was only 26 years old at the time. Since then Alpert Award winners have included composer/harpist Anne LeBaron, Chinese/American composer Chen Yi, and Pamela Z, who combines voice, motion and electronics in her live performances.

Like the awards given by The American Academy of Arts and Letters, the Alpert Foundation does not accept unsolicited proposals. Instead, the Alpert Awards have established a selection process in which The Alpert Foundation makes special efforts to give marginalized artists a chance by drawing judges and nominators from a diverse pool that balances geography, gender, and artistic style. The primary criterion for selecting these panelists is that all must be open to “the new.” Once chosen, they are instructed to choose a composer with a significant body of work, a vital voice, an impressive record and future promise. They are also asked to consider how the applicant’s art influences and reflects contemporary culture.

Each year, ten people serve as anonymous nominators. None of these people is affiliated with Cal Arts or with the foundation, but is chosen to represent diverse fields within art music; critics, presenters, teachers, and composers generally comprise this panel, and few are ever chosen to nominate again. Each of these ten nominators selects three composers, and these thirty are invited to apply for the award. Each composer receives $100 to cover the cost of preparing application materials and work samples.

The final panel is made up of three people who are considered to be specialists in contemporary art music. While this panel is typically composer-heavy (past judges include Martin Bresnick, Leroy Jenkins, and Julia Wolfe), it generally includes performers with exceptional devotion to contemporary music (pianist Ursula Oppens, Kronos Quartet violinist David Harrington), and composers with performing backgrounds (conductor/composer John Adams, accordionist/ composer Pauline Oliveros). Ben Johnston, who participated in the 1999 panel, lauds the process, saying that “this was the most objective decision group in which I have yet participated, and I must compliment the Alpert Foundation upon its aims and policies.”

Although the Cal Arts community is not involved in the selection of award recipients, they reap the benefits of this program through residencies with winning composers. These have included classes, presentations, performances, and more depending on the recipient.

The newest fellowship of its kind, the Berlin Prize was first awarded in 1999 to Laura Schwendinger and is based on the example set by the American Academy in Rome. Located in a villa on Lake Wannsee, the American Academy in Berlin is a short train ride from the center of Berlin. The Berlin Prize is offered in many fields, and other residents include Hollywood Bowl conductor John Mauceri, visual artist Jenny Holzer, and poet Henri Cole. Next year there will be two Berlin Prize composers: Martin Bresnick and Betsy Jolas.

Two lucky composers are chosen each year as Rome Prize winners. Each of these composers pursues independent projects atop the Janiculum, the highest hill within the walls of Rome. There, they are given time to create in a stimulating atmosphere, with an award valued at $60,000.

Composer Edward MacDowell, who was impressed by the existing facilities for architects, painters, and sculptors, suggested the creation of a music program at the American Academy in Rome in 1905. His suggestion was not realized until 1921, when Howard Hanson, Leo Sowerby, and Randall Thompson were invited as the first composition fellows.

It was originally stipulated that no instruction was to be offered at the Academy. Instead, fellows were expected to spend their time composing and visiting musical centers in Europe (a special arrangement was made for free tuition at the Paris Conservatoire). In 1947, however, a program was established for the invitation of six to eight senior artists and scholars for periods of two to four months. These residents are former Rome Prize winners who pursue their own work, act as informal mentors to the fellows, and present their work in concerts and lectures. The residents also benefit from the time they spend with each other, and the Academy’s Celebrating a Century publication recounts Leo Smit‘s thrill at associating with Leonard Bernstein, Aaron Copland, Harold Shapero, Lukas Foss, Alexei Haieff, George Rochberg, Ulysses Kay, Gail Kubik and Frank Wigglesworth.

In the past, relationships were established with local string quartets and orchestras, particularly through devoted help from local conductor/composer Ottorino Respighi. European publishers and festivals also took notice of Academy fellows and residents. In 1931, radio broadcasts were made a regular feature of Academy concerts. Most of these opportunities seem to have been lost over the years, and financial problems in the 1980s decimated the Academy’s public presentations. Since then the Academy has been working to reestablish similar opp
ortunities. Each year, there are several concerts that include music by current and previous fellows and residents by Italian groups.

The Rome Prize has also acted as a tremendous indicator of future success. Robert Beaser attended the AAR in 1978 at the age of 24, and Aaron Jay Kernis was only one year older when he stayed there in 1985. The age of composers has been steadily increasing, though, as composers are increasingly being chosen more on the basis of accomplishment than promise. Most new Rome Prize winners are post-doctoral students or early-career professors.

In addition to the Morton Gould Awards for young composers, The American Society for Composers and Publishers (ASCAP) also provides several honors in the form of commissions and performances.

The ASCAP Foundation/Rudolf Nissim Prize was created by a substantial bequest from the man whose first accomplishment at ASCAP was the establishment of a “Serious Music Department” for the licensing of concert works. The $5,000 prize is given annually to an ASCAP composer’s work for orchestra, concert band, or other large ensemble which has not been professionally premiered. In addition to awarding prize money, ASCAP works on the composer’s behalf by providing supplementary funds for the premiere of the winning work. The jury for this award changes each year, and is made up of conductors who have included Paul Dunkel (American Composers Orchestra), Harold Farberman (Hartt School of Music), Bradley Lubman (SPIT Orchestra, Steve Reich and Musicians), and Mischa Santora (New York Youth Symphony).

Every few years, The ASCAP Foundation Commissioning Project honors distinguished ASCAP members past and present by commissioning young composers to write music for performances in venues suitable for each honoree. The most recent awards were in honor of the late Jacob Druckman, whose composition career was matched by his devotion to his students at Yale. Three of his former students, Stephen Burke, Eric Zivian, and Carolyn Yarnell, were commissioned to write orchestral works in Druckman’s memory, which were then premiered by the Seattle Symphony with Gerard Schwarz conducting. As young composers are chosen for their association with those being honored, applications are not accepted for these commissions. Previous honorees have included Duke Ellington, Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, John Cage, and Morton Gould.

And for the jazz composers who are so frequently ignored by other composition prizes, ASCAP offers the ASCAP/IAJE Commissions. Like the Commissioning Project, this prize honors a different composer each time. The 2000 commissions are being presented in honor of Louis Armstrong’s centenary. Two composers are selected, one an internationally prominent jazz composer, and another an emerging jazz composer who has not yet reached his or her thirtieth birthday. The prizes are $7,500 for the established composer, and $3,000 for the younger composer, and the works for jazz orchestra are premiered at the annual International Association of Jazz Educators Conference in New York City.

Many of today’s best-known composers initiated their careers winning student awards from BMI and ASCAP, two of America’s performing-rights organizations. More than any other awards, these endorsements have acted as impressive indicators of potential for success. Of course many active composers never win these awards, and many who win them are never heard from again, but the ASCAP and BMI award rosters contain many of the world’s most distinguished composers, all recognized by these organizations before the age of 30.

Student composer awards can be among the most valued by professional composers. Aaron Jay Kernis, who won student awards from both ASCAP and BMI, values the encouragement they provide at this crucial point in one’s career. He remembers that winning these prizes gave him his “first sense that being a composer had some meaning and resonance.” He felt that winning these awards made him aware of the musical community, which mitigates the solitary aspects of composing.

The BMI Student Composer Awards

Identifying the talents of composers under the age of 26, the BMI Student Composer Awards have been the first international recognition for many of the most active and prominent composers today. Composers like Kernis, George Crumb, John Harbison, Christopher Rouse, Philip Glass, Charles Wuorinen, Mario Davidovsky, and William Bolcom all received BMI Student Composer Awards before their 26th birthdays.

Entrants are required to apply using a pseudonym; the composer’s name must be found nowhere on the musical score, and the pseudonym is only associated with the actual name after the award’s selection. Although the award is given primarily for musical merit, the prize for compositions deemed equally worthy goes to the younger composer.

The BMI Awards Chairman is Milton Babbitt, who has served in that capacity for over a decade. While he chairs the selection, he does not vote. Two rotating groups of judges, a preliminary group of three and a final jury of five assume that responsibility.

Judges are given scores and are told the age of the composer. The preliminary panel, which often includes composers Chester Biscardi, David Leisner and Bernadette Speach, spend 40 to 60 hours examining each work individually. Since no tapes are submitted, works are judged from the manuscript alone. The first panel then meets for one full day to narrow approximately 400 manuscripts down to about 35 to 50 which are sent to the final jury. The final jury’s membership changes from year to year, but it is typically made up composers from New York and around the Northeast. The 1999 jury members were Robert Beaser, Steven Mackey, Donald Martino, Tobias Picker and Gunther Schuller. They also meet for a full day and determine winners.

In addition to Award Chairman Milton Babbitt, BMI Concert Music Director Ralph Jackson coordinates the BMI Student Composer Awards. Jackson’s own composing experience gives him a special perspective on this job: he was a BMI Student Award winner.

“Actually, when I won the Student Composer Awards for the first time in 1976,” Jackson recalls, “my taxi from the airport ran into a bus somewhere between Newark and Manhattan and I broke my ankle. I was so excited to be in New York for the first time and to win the award that I didn’t realize it was broken until 3 days later when I returned home to Texas!” Since the award includes an all-expense-paid trip to New York to attend the awards ceremonies, this is the first visit to New York City for many young composers.

When asked how the BMI prize benefits composers, Jackson frankly replied that “no prize makes or breaks a career. However, these prizes have often given encouragement at a very early age, and I think that has been important, financially and emotionally, to many of our winners. Often, our winners comment that previously unsupportive family members have come to value their plans to pursue study and careers in music after they’ve won a BMI Award.”

The ASCAP Foundation / Morton Gould Young Composer Awards

One of several awards offered by ASCAP, the Morton Gould Young Composer Award distributes $20,000 amongst about 20 composers. With an application pool of approximately 500 scores, this award shares many of the same applicants with that of BMI, and ASCAP stipulates that works which have previously won awards may not receive theirs.

The age of eligibility for ASCAP winners extends up to 30, and they have many very young applicants. Frances Richard, ASCAP’s Director of Concert Music, is passionately concerned about the integrity of this award, and works to make the most out of the selection process. For young applicants who show great promise but lack the technical finesse to win the award, she has contacted parents to help arrange instruction and advice for career development.

Like BMI’s Student Composer Awards, the Morton Gould Awards are pre-screened (“three long, grueling days,” says Richard) to reduce the pool by about one-fifth. The composers of the remaining 100 scores are deemed “finalists,” and are notified as being such when their materials are returned. The final jury meets for two days. Not only are they given the scores, but they also receive the original list of 500 works, and can ask to see any scores that had previously been rejected.

Unlike BMI, The Morton Gould Awards do not use pseudonyms to shield the composer’s identities from the judges. Richard insists, however, that the judging is completely fair, and that ASCAP only chooses judges who will act impartially. She was equally passionate about not corrupting the prize by attempting to determine the best way to win it. Every effort is made to collect a jury which shuns nepotism, understands musical concerns, and is unbiased by stylistic preference.

ASCAP/SEAMUS Commission and Recording Prize for Young Composers

One of the few awards earmarked for electronic-music composers is the ASCAP/SEAMUS Commission and Recording Prize for Young Composers, which ASCAP presents in cooperation with SEAMUS, the Society for Electro-Acoustic Music in the United States. For composers who are “on the cutting edge of electronic technology,” this prize includes a modest honorarium for a new electro-acoustic composition, a stipend for copying and material costs, a plaque, a performance at the next SEAMUS National Conference, and a guaranteed recording on the SEAMUS Compact Disc Series.

In the classical music arena, where string quartets and orchestras dominate over electric guitars and drum kits, it is easy to forget that the “music industry” also honors composers, many of whom rarely receive recognition from the other organizations mentioned in this article. While the annual awards of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences are dominated by the latest pop hit sensations and boomer-generation pop mainstays, the Grammys also provide composers with one of the world’s best-recognized paperweights as well as the chance rub elbows with the pop stars.

Grammy winners are selected annually by the “voting members” of the Recording Academy, a select group within the greater Academy’s paid-membership. There are many categories in which a contemporary composition can win, including “Best Classical Contemporary Composition,” “Best Orchestral Performance,” “Best Chamber Music Performance,” and “Best Classical Album.” These are the categories that include many composers who are concert-hall mainstays. Recent examples of winners in these categories include Richard Danielpour, Leon Kirchner, and Christopher Rouse; in 1997, the Premieres CD of their Cello Concertos played by Yo Yo Ma with David Zinman and the Philadelphia Orchestra won for “Best Classical Album” and “Best Instrumental Soloist Performance with Orchestra.” That year, John Adams won Best Classical Contemporary Composition for El Dorado. Steve Reich has won Grammys for Music for 18 Musicians (Best Small Ensemble Performance 1998) and Different Trains (Best Contemporary Composition 1989), and John Corigliano has two Best Contemporary Composition Grammys for his Symphony No. 1 (1991) and his String Quartet (1996). But the award is not the ex
clusive domain of composers described in the mainstream media as “listener friendly.” Elliott Carter has also won this award for his Violin Concerto, although the recording on which it appeared is currently out-of-print in this country.

While some concert-hall composers have done well earning Grammy awards, this award is primarily for film composers. In fact, their career longevity allows them to eclipse most pop artists in the collection of Grammys.

Henry Mancini won an amazing 20 Grammys, all earned within the twelve years between 1958 and 1970. He earned two for Peter Gunn in 1958, and three years later earned five for Breakfast at Tiffany’s, including Record of the Year, Song of the Year, Best Arrangement (for “Moon River“), Best Performance for an Orchestra, and Best Soundtrack Album for the movie soundtrack.

Just behind Mancini on the list is John Williams, who has 17 but is still earning them with a career that spans over 25 Grammy-earning years as a conductor and composer. His first came for the movie Jaws in 1975, and over the years he has won multiple Grammys for Star Wars (including Best Instrumental Performance), Close Encounters, Superman, The Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark, triple-Grammy winning E.T., Schindler’s List, and most recently Saving Private Ryan. Outside of the film industry, he also tied composer/songwriter Randy Newman for 1984 Best Instrumental Composition with his Fanfare and Theme for the XXIIIrd Olympiad at Los Angeles.

The $200,000 Grawemeyer Award, given by the University of Louisville differs from most other prizes discussed here in that it is not earmarked specifically for Americans. It has, however, gone to Americans on many occasions, including John Adams (1995), John Corigliano (1991), and Joan Tower (1990), and has strongly featured European and Asian composers who have lived in America including Tan Dun and Chinary Ung.

First awarded in 1985, it began as a gift from Charles Grawemeyer, a music-lover from Louisville who suggested “if we did something like this perhaps we could find another Mozart.” In fact, no talent has been “discovered” by the Grawemeyer. First awarded to Witold Lutoslawski for his Symphony No. 3, it immediately became an opportunity to augment the income of already established composers.

Any musician or musical organization can submit entries, but composers are not permitted to nominate their own work. Frequently works will be sponsored by publishers and by the orchestra that commissioned a work. The Grawemeyer Award Committee (The University of Louisville composition faculty) appoints a jury of three internationally recognized music professionals, who are normally the previous year’s winner, a conductor, and a critic.

The music director of the Louisville Symphony, Lawrence Leighton Smith was the conductor/jury-member for eight years beginning in the Grawemeyer’s first year. He describes the selection process as being fickle but easy to explain: “It was Charlie’s money, so we ran it his way.”

And “Charlie’s way” meant that non-musicians should be involved the award’s selection. The jurors select up to nine works from the submission pool, which are then given to a lay panel of seven community members–non-professional music-lovers like Charles Grawemeyer himself. They are given a score and tape of the music (“What they do with the score, I don’t know,” says Smith). These amateur panelists, who are distinguished among orchestra subscribers and hold a degree of celebrity in the Louisville cultural community for their participation, select the winning work.

The names of the non-winning finalists are not announced, but jury members find it an interesting litmus test to observe which pieces are selected by the lay panel. The panel acts as kind of “focus group,” and though there are composers of particularly complex, avant-garde music who are repeatedly shunned by the panel, the Grawemeyer does not reflect the assumption that audiences tend towards the conservative. This award has been given to works with a broad range of accessibility, from John Corigliano’s Symphony No. 1 to Harrison Birwistle‘s The Mask of Orpheus.

One of the best-known American foundations, the Guggenheim makes up for its relatively small endowment in the way it spends its money: it is exclusively devoted to giving fellowships that permit artists and scholars to pursue their interests for an entire year.

Since its establishment in 1925 it has given over 15,000 awards totaling more than $185 million dollars. 150 to 200 awards are given each year and about seven to nine of them go to composers.

Another reason that the Guggenheim Fellowship is so well recognized is that the Guggenheim name has become synonymous with philanthropy. Meyer Guggenheim, who went from being a street peddler to one of America’s wealthiest citizens, passed his money on to his seven sons, four of whom established foundations: Daniel (aeronautics), Murry (dental science), Solomon (modern art), and finally Senator Simon Guggenheim, who gave his money in the form of fellowships. Simon’s oldest son, John Simon Guggenheim, established the Guggenheim Fellowships as a memorial to his father. The program’s basic premise was quickly in place, that money should be given to artists and scholars who should have complete freedom of action.

Two governing bodies were established, a Board of Trustees, and a separate Educational Advisory Board whose committee would choose the fellows. To this day, the identities of those who choose Guggenheim fellows are kept with strongly guarded anonymity. While this has protected the judges from undue lobbying, it gas also evoked complaints among those who have observed unsavory trends in the selection of fellows.

Nonetheless, the list of Guggenheim-winning composers reads like a comprehensive litany of this century’s most accomplished. Beginning with Aaron Copland, 475 composers have been supported with Guggenheim funds, including Roy Harris, Ruth Crawford Seeger, Samuel Barber, LaMonte Young, Gil Evans, Keith Jarrett, and others in the fields of classical concert music and experimental jazz. The Guggenheim Foundation was one of the few organizations to support Harry Partch, who received fellowships in 1943, 1944, and 1950.

Best known as the “MacArthur Genius Award,” the MacArthur Fellowship Program offers fellows an income over five years. This salary currently ranges from $40,000 to $75,000 per year, and is determined by the individual’s age. In some years, the five-year stipend can be as much as $500,000. Comprehensive health insurance is also included in this award, a consideration that is not given by the American Academy of Arts and Letters in their Charles Ives Living Award. The MacArthur Foundation describes this award as being “enough money for the recipient and family to live on, but not necessarily in luxury. It represents a kind of seed money or venture capital for intellectual, social, and artistic endeavors.”

Not only given in music, this award regularly honors scientists, historians, poets and novelists, artists and composers, and people working in public service. Many composers have been honored alongside those in other fields, and part of this award’s distinction is that fellows are recognized as making outstanding contributions to society as a whole.

Composers who have received this elite honor include Meredith Monk (1995), Ornette Coleman (1994), Ali Akbar Khan (1991), John Harbison (1989), Ran Blake (1988) and Conlon Nancarrow (1982).

MacArthur Fellows are chosen by a group of more than 100 anonymous nominators across the country in a range of academic and professional fields. They are asked to propose extraordinarily creative and promising individuals who are at points in their careers when a fellowship could make a marked difference, and they are asked to consider “the likely benefits of the award for the good of society.” The program operates under no fixed schedule, and it typically selects between 20 and 40 fellows each year. There are no requirements associated with the award, and recipients need not report their creative work to the MacArthur Foundation.

When a fellow is notified of their selection as a MacArthur Fellow, it is often a complete surprise. Since the foundation has a staff that collects all necessary material, the process is completely independent of the candidate. The MacArthur Foundation considers it best for individuals to remain unaware of their nomination status since there is nothing they can do to enhance their prospects.

“Now you know what the first line in your obituary will be,” Pulitzer Prize winners are told upon receiving the award. The $5,000 Pulitzer Prize seems meager when compared to heftier sums offered by the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the Grawemeyer Foundation, but two things have contributed to this prize’s being distinguished above all others: the Pulitzer’s accomplished roster of winners and its widespread recognition outside of musical circles. The Pulitzer is, after all, a prize established by a journalist in 1904 to encourage excellence in writing. The Pulitzer Prize in Music did not come along until 1943, when it was given to William Schuman for his Secular Cantata No. 2, ‘A Free Song.’

The Pulitzer is given to honor a composition receiving its world premiere performance during the year of its award. As a result, the winning works are rarely recorded and sometimes have only received one performance. Such is the case for Lewis Spratlan‘s Life is a Dream (Act II, concert version), which received this year’s Pulitzer Prize in Music, after its debut performance only a few months earlier although 22 years after it was composed.

Since the award is so highly visible, it has raised a high degree of speculation on why certain pieces win over others. In retrospect, it can be seen that the Pulitzer rarely recognizes a composer’s best or most famous work. But the Pulitzer is not a lifetime achievement award; it honors new works while they are still fresh. Joseph Schwantner, whose Aftertones of Infinity earned him the 1979 Pulitzer, has assisted in the selection process many times. He explains that the adjudication is not overly political, and that while an entrant’s reputation has a subtle influence on the decision-making process, Schwantner finds the atmosphere to be honest. The jurors convene in what Schwantner describes as an “intense and open environment,” and examine all of the submitted scores: there is no pre-screening process, and any piece premiered that year is eligible.

The list of Pulitzer winners is impressive. It includes many of the greatest composers working since 1943, and honors some of their most celebrated works, including Aaron Copland‘s Appalachian Spring (1945), Gian-Carlo Menotti‘s The Consul (1950), and Jacob Druckman‘s Windows (1972). Some composers, however, win for works which in retrospect hardly seem representative or among their most impressive, and sometimes the Pulitzer committee’s decision is difficult to accept. Gian-Carlo Menotti’s
The Saint of Bleecker Street won the Pulitzer over Carlisle Floyd‘s Susannah, which has become America’s most frequently performed contribution to the operatic stage. Minimalist and “downtown” composers also receive short shrift from the Pulitzer committee: Steve Reich (Different Trains was passed over in 1988 in favor of William Bolcom‘s piano etudes, and Tehillim was premiered in 1981, a year no award was given), Philip Glass, LaMonte Young, Terry Riley, and John Adams have all failed to be recognized as have Morton Feldman, Meredith Monk, and many other highly-respected composers. Although awarded a posthumous “special citation” in the year of his centenary, Duke Ellington never won a Pulitzer during his life, and the first jazz-influenced work to win this prize did not come until 1997 with Wynton MarsalisBlood on the Fields. Leonard Bernstein, arguably the most popular American figure involved with classical music, also never won a Pulitzer.

Another important question to address, however, is if this award actually helps its recipients more than any other award. It would be easy to assume that such a visible and prominent award would change the lives of its recipients, but this does not seem to be the case. Its recipients seem to fall into two categories: those whose careers are already so well-established that the Pulitzer is incidental to their already strong activities, and those for whom additional name recognition does not greatly affect their ability to gain commissions and performances from top ensembles and presenters.

For Aaron Jay Kernis (String Quartet #2: musica instrumentalis, 1998), whose career was already booming with commissions and performances from leading groups in America and abroad, two benefits emerged. It brought him more opportunities to work with other composers through residencies, and it also reestablished contact with lost friends. But beyond these changes, its primary benefit was internal: it gave him a confidence which invigorated his writing.

Controversy has also surrounded the Pulitzer Prize in Music in other ways. The 1992 panel, who was instructed to recommend three works to the Pulitzer Board, recommended only one work: Ralph Shapey‘s Concerto Fantastique. They unanimously deemed this to be the finest work of the year. The Pulitzer Board, however, did not agree that this work was worthy of their prize, and instead asked the jury to recommend another work. Wayne Peterson‘s The Face of Night was then chosen by the jury and accepted by the board. While this is the only such occurrence in music, it is not unheard of for a decision to be overturned in Pulitzer Prizes for other disciplines.

Harvey Sollberger was on the committee that year, and he suggests that although no reason was given for the board’s rejection of Shapey’s work, their action may have resulted from the jury’s initial refusal to choose works for honorable mention. This was not due to a dearth in compositional quality among the submitted pieces, but rather to a consensus among the panelists that choosing runners-up “devalued” the Pulitzer. He suggests it may be possible that the Pulitzer Board refused Shapey’s work as a rebuff to the jury, who may have tried to assume too much control over the process.

Sollberger believes that the Pulitzer Prize is very important as “something that keeps composers before the public and raises all of us in the field.” He was dismayed to find out about the four years in which Pulitzers were not awarded. Having served on the jury many times, he recalls that the difficulty in selecting a single work is not finding one that is worthy, but in selecting it from all the great works submitted.

VISIT NewMusicBox‘s Sonic Museum of the Pulitzer Prize in Music

One of composition’s larger awards, the $50,000 William Schuman Award is administered through Columbia University. Given irregularly every few years, it has gone to William Schuman (1981), David Diamond (1985), Gunther Schuller (1989), Milton Babbitt (1992), and Hugo Weisgall (1995). The elusive nature of this award is such that almost no administrators or faculty at the Columbia Music Department or School of the Arts know that it exists, and even Babbitt, who also sat on the Schuman panel in 1995, could not refer me to someone in charge.

Has Winning the Pulitzer Made a Difference? Wayne Peterson, Winner of the 1992 Pulitzer Prize in Music


Wayne Peterson
Photo by Jack McDonald, courtesy C. F. Peters Corp.

Winning the Pulitzer has meant nothing for the piece that won. Back when Blomstedt was at the San Francisco Symphony, David Zinman conducted it and did a beautiful job. But they never did it again and nobody else has ever played it. It’s a very difficult piece. I write chromatic music and chromatic music is not in vogue at the moment. I think that has not helped things.

The Prize has benefited me in other ways, however. You get a lot of notoriety out of it. My commissions have soared and everything I have written since that time has been published. And I am fortunate enough to have some of the best musicians in the world playing my chamber music, which has led to a CD that has just come out.

[Hear a sample of Wayne Peterson’s Pulitzer Prize winning piece in our Sonic Gallery of the Pulitzer Prize.]

Has Winning the Pulitzer Made a Difference? Charles Wuorinen, Winner of the 1970 Pulitzer Prize in Music

Charles Wuorinen
Charles Wuorinen
Photo by Bob Adler

It’s hard to tell what the Pulitzer meant to my career. The only direct result of receiving the prize that I’m aware of came in the form of a modest commission for a string quartet from the Fine Arts Quartet, who (I believe) had formed the habit of requesting a new work from each year’s winner. Otherwise, who can say? It’s very hard to hypothesize about what life would have been like without the Pulitzer, but as I look over the list of winners I am struck by how many of them have faded into invisibility; it’s tempting to think that the composers who have not disappeared would have stayed visible (and audible) without the prize.

Then there are those who might have received the award but didn’t. In the case of the Nobel Prize for Literature, for example, the list of authors who were passed over is stunning: Dostoevsky, Proust, Joyce

There’s a lesson here.

[Hear a sample of Charles Wuorinen’s Pulitzer Prize winning piece in our Sonic Gallery of the Pulitzer Prize.]

Has Winning the Pulitzer Made a Difference? Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, Winner of the 1983 Pulitzer Prize in Music

Ellen Taaffe Zwilich
Ellen Taaffe Zwilich
Photo by Andrew Sacks

It’s a shame that my teacher Roger Sessions‘s work was not recognized with a Pulitzer until he was in his 80s. I was very lucky in that when I received the award I was young enough to get a good kick out of it and felt that I still had a tremendous amount of music in me. At the same time, I was also old enough to have a body of work behind me and old enough to know that things like this really do not measure your worth.

There are lots of other awards that a composer can win where your name doesn’t necessarily get in the newspaper. The fact that the whole journalism community is eagerly waiting to see who has won the various Pulitzers gives it an extra degree of interest. I believe it was a writer from the Los Angeles Times who mentioned to me that I was the first woman to win the award. At the time I won, I had no idea.

It doesn’t really do anything except open some doors. But any time people are curious about our work, that’s always a good opportunity for a composer. But you’re still faced with the same issues as every other composer. When you’re putting new notes on the page, there isn’t a lot of time to sit around resting on your laurels, whatever they might be. You’re still struggling just like everybody else.

[Hear a sample of Ellen Taaffe Zwilich’s Pulitzer Prize winning piece in our Sonic Gallery of the Pulitzer Prize.]

Rewriting History: Alternative Pulitzers

Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.

There’s no doubt that many distinguished composers and deserving works have received the Pulitzer Prize in Music over the past six decades. Still, reading through the list of Pulitzers, I’m struck by the rather orthodox view of American musical history it suggests.

Like most prizes, the Pulitzer is selected by a jury, not a judge. But indulging my own (undoubtedly myopic) hindsight, I’d like to offer the following list of how the awards might have been made.

Compiling this list turned out to be far more complicated than I’d imagined.

For one thing, I discovered that it’s much easier to find information about premieres and recordings of so-called Uptown music than it is to find similar information about music by Downtown composers (not to mention the rest of us Out-of-Towners). Clearly, composers with the support of academic institutions and large publishing and recording companies have had a distinct advantage in competitions such as the Pulitzer. In time, as the rest of the new music community becomes better organized and better known, this should change.

To receive the Pulitzer, a work must have received its premiere in the United States, between March 2 of the previous year and March 1 of the year of the award. But as it turns out, many important works of American music were first performed in another country.

And in many of the years, the competition was very stiff: Any of several equally-strong composers and works might just as easily appeared on my list. So this is just one of many possible alternative histories I could’ve written.

Certainly most NewMusicBox readers could produce lists of your own. And I hope you will. I offer this particular list in a spirit of constructive provocation, not so much as a critique of the Pulitzer, but to raise questions about how and why such awards are made, and what effect they may have.

Why do some composers repeatedly win prizes such as the Pulitzer, while other composers of equivalent artistic stature never do?

If some of the composers on my list had actually won the Pulitzer or other major awards, how might that recognition have influenced their artistic and professional lives? In turn, how might this have affected the course of American music in general?

If you could rewrite the history of the Pulitzer – (or the Grawenmeyer, the Guggenheim, the MacArthur, the Alpert, the Fromm, the Koussevitsky, or the Grammies, to name only several) – which composers and works would be on your list?

1943 – Carl Ruggles: Evocations
1944 – John Cage: Amores
1945 – Samuel Barber: Capricorn Concerto
1946 – Igor Stravinsky: Symphony in Three Movements
1947 – Aaron Copland: Symphony No. 3
1948 – Virgil Thomson: The Mother of Us All
1949 – Paul Bowles: Concerto for Two Pianos, Winds and Percussion
1950 – William Schuman: Violin Concerto
1951 – John Cage: String Quartet in Four Parts
1952 – Lou Harrison: Suite for Violin, Piano and Small Orchestra
1953 – Ruth Crawford Seeger: Suite for Woodwind Quintet
1954 – Elliott Carter: Sonata for Flute, Oboe, Cello and Harpsichord
1955 – Harry Partch: Barstow
1956 – Alan Hovhaness: Symphony Number 2 (“Mysterious Mountain”)
1957 – Lejaren Hiller and Leonard Issacson: Illiac Suite
1958 – Harry Partch: The Bewitched
1959 – John Cage: Concert for Piano and Orchestra
1960 – Roger Sessions: Symphony Number 4
1961 – Ornette Coleman: Free Jazz
1962 – Earle Brown: Available Forms I
1963 – Charles Mingus: Epitaph
1964 – Milton Babbitt: Philomel
1965 – Terry Riley: In C
1966 – Charles Ives: Symphony No. 4
1967 – Muhal Richard Abrams: Levels and Degrees of Light
1968 – Morton Subotnick: Silver Apples of the Moon
1969 – Harry Partch: Delusion of the Fury
1970 – Alvin Lucier: I Am Sitting In A Room
1971 – George Crumb: Black Angels
1972 – Steve Reich: Drumming
1973 – Lou Harrison: La Koro Sutro
1974 – Ben Johnston: String Quartet Number 4 (“Amazing Grace”)
1975 – Philip Glass: Music in 12 Parts
1976 – Frederic Rzewski: The People United Will Never Be Defeated
1977 – Steve Reich: Music for 18 Musicians
1978 – Conlon Nancarrow: Studies for Player Piano
1979 – Lou Harrison: Threnody for Carlos Chavez
1980 – William Duckworth: The Time Curve Preludes
1981 – Robert Ashley: Perfect Lives
1982 – La Monte Young: The Well-Tuned Piano
1983 – Glenn Branca: Symphony Number 3
1984 – Morton Feldman: Three Voices for Joan LaBarbara
1985 – Stephen Scott: New Music for Bowed Piano
1986 – Morton Feldman: For Philip Guston
1987 – Janice Giteck: Om Shanti
1988 – John Adams: Nixon in China
1989 – Lois V. Vierk: Cirrus
1990 – Paul Dresher: Double Ikat
1991 – Meredith Monk: Atlas
1992 – Eve Beglarian: Machaut in the Machine Age
1993 – Michael Gordon: Yo Shakespeare
1994 – David Lang: Lying, Cheating, Stealing
1995 – Julia Wolfe: Tell Me Everything
1996 – Peter Garland: Another Sunrise
1997 – Mikel Rouse: Dennis Cleveland
1998 – Ingram Marshall: Evensongs
1999 – MaryAnn Amacher: Music for Sound-Joined Rooms
2000 – Robert Ashley: Dust

 

LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARDS

In addition to awards for specific works in specific years, Lifetime Achievement awards are ocassionally given in recognition of the exceptional importance of a composer’s complete body of work.

My list of these awards would include:

Amy Beach (posthumous)
Duke Ellington
Edgar Varése
Thelonious Monk
Henry Cowell
John Coltrane
Miles Davis
Henry Brant
Cecil Taylor
Pauline Oliveros
James Tenney
Christian Wolff

Gideon Waldrop, Composer and Former Juilliard Dean, Dies at 80

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Gideon Waldrop, circa 1961
Photo by Helen Merrill, courtesy Boosey & Hawkes

Gideon Waldrop, a composer and administrator, who served as dean of the Juilliard School of Music for 24 years and was president of the Manhattan School of Music for nearly three years, died on May 19 at his home in Manhattan. He was 80.

Waldrop was born on September 12, 1919 near Abilene, Texas. After receiving a Bachelor of Music degree from Baylor University in Waco, Texas, he went on to Eastman, where he received a Ph. D. in Composition in 1952. During World War II he served in the intelligence division of the Air Force during World War II, for which he was awarded the Bronze Star.

His involvement in the administrative field began in the 1950’s when he was editor of the Review of Recorded Music as well as the Musical Courier. He also served as a music consultant to the Ford Foundation. In 1960 he became the assistant to the president of Juilliard and was appointed dean the next year. During his tenure at Juilliard, the school moved from its old building on Claremont Avenue in Morningside Heights into its new $30 million building at Lincoln Center.

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Waldrop with Leontyne Price, photo courtesy Boosey & Hawkes

Mr. Waldrop served as acting president of Juilliard in 1983, following the death of the school’s president Peter Mennin.

From 1986 until 1989, Waldrop was president of the Manhattan School of Music, which had taken over the old Juilliard building on Claremont Avenue. He resigned this post over disagreements with the board.

Waldrop’s orchestral compositions include a symphony (1952) and the suite From the Southwest (1964); he also wrote chamber works, choral pieces, and songs.

Gary Lucas: Ignoring Genre Divisions

Gary Lucas
Gary Lucas
Photo by André Grossman, courtesy Gary Lucas

NewMusicBox Editor Frank J. Oteri visits composer/guitarist Gary Lucas at his home.

Thursday, June 22, 2000, New York City

Transcribed by Lisa Kang

Poly-Stylism and Influences


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #1

FRANK J. OTERI: This is a great place. I love being surrounded by tons of vinyl, and I see you are quite a record collector.

GARY LUCAS: I think I spent a lot of my formative years collecting music. I was obsessed about it, but it really has tapered off in the last couple of years, I must say. I’m not nearly as driven to do it and I think it has something do with making music for a living and going full time professional. I felt a little guilty in the time I would spend listening to new sound. I was eating up time that I would have otherwise conserved putting into use making my own music.

FRANK J. OTERI: This is the incredible divide that I find myself in constantly. I mean, do you make music or do you listen to other people making music… I’m addicted to both!

GARY LUCAS: I know, if you can find a balance it’s good. I try to keep a balance, and I do manage to keep abreast of everything. I was listening to Tony Conrad and some of the recordings that Table of the Elements has put out recently. They just sent me a vat of stuff.

FRANK J. OTERI: Terrific. The one that I want to listen to is Outside the Dream Syndicate.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, I know. Well, they swore they would send it to me but the release had been delayed a bit.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you know the story about Conrad showing up at a La Monte Young concert with a picket sign?

GARY LUCAS: My drummer plays in La Monte’s Forever Bad Blues Band. La Monte has been guarding his tape archive quite zealously.

FRANK J. OTERI: Anyway, to bring the conversation to you and the music that you spend time doing versus buying music as voraciously as you used to… How would you describe your music to someone who has never heard it?

GARY LUCAS: I’ve kind of developed a rubric. I’d say it’s “psychedelic primitive.”

FRANK J. OTERI: What does that mean?

GARY LUCAS: It embraces the energy of the caveman, hopefully, and a kind of a visceral, teeth gritting that also pertains to the psychedelic, mind manifesting impulse that turned me onto listening to music voraciously in the ’60s, and that I like to take people on trip with the guitar. I like to make the music in a way kind of pictorial so that my instrumental music can describe landscape and ideas. Ultimately it’s visceral. Recently a fan wrote me on the Internet and said that I ought to distribute “Gary Lucas Chewing Gum” with all of my records because it gave her a very tactile sensation. It was kind of like she could chew the music. That’s how she described it. What does that mean? I don’t know.

FRANK J. OTERI: When I was listening to your CDs, I felt like I was being taken in so many different directions with this music and I came up with all sorts of things I was hearing – I was hearing rock in it, I was hearing jazz, and I was hearing blues, and I was hearing roots country at times, I was hearing new music, experimental music, electronic music, Klezmer and the Radical Jewish Culture thing. It was all there. There were even tracks that were like heavy metal and hip-hop.

GARY LUCAS: I cover the waterfront. What can I say? (laugh) I think I can find some beauty in every genre of music that I’ve listened to, and I think that I don’t discriminate, I don’t narrow-cast my music to aim at one particular market. This could limit me commercially of course because I think the way music is packaged these days, people want an easy kind of free ride so that they don’t have to work to understand what it is that they’re listening to. Everything is boiled down into these generic constituents, so that you go to one source for your hip-hop, go to your alternative rock section in the store, you know, to get this and that.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s amazing to me that alternative rock has become codified because the whole notion of alternative rock is that it goes against the codification that rock became.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, it’s true. This is just the function of the marketing mechanisms of the world in that the people in corporations who are behind the masked music foisted on everybody definitely go toward the generic or the lowest common denominator because it’s easier to sell, they don’t have to spend a lot of time describing what it is to people. If people have to think a little bit, if they have to work to apprehend what it is they’re hearing, they find that most people don’t have the time in their lives to devote to such things. Anyway, music is used by most people as an adjunct to other activities. I really wonder how many people actually sit and listen to something rather than using it as background music while they have breakfast or brush their teeth, watch TV, or some other activity. Just to have something on, a soundtrack or background music to their lives.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well, the whole reason why I wanted to have this discussion with you is that the July issue of NewMusicBox is all about how non-commercial rock music, truly alternative rock music, is very much a cousin to contemporary, so-called serious music, art music, music that really has no name that works for it… These two worlds are very close together and I think we could learn a lot from each other, and I think there would be greater strength in what we do, and certainly when a band like Sonic Youth last year turns out an album with Pauline Oliveros and Christi
an Wolff
and all of these people, it shows you that these worlds aren’t really that far apart.

GARY LUCAS: I think that the impulse to experiment which is at the heart of new music, the impulse to make it new, as Ezra Pound said, there’s an ethos that’s shared by rockers because their music is a reaction to whatever had been the prevailing rock music trend of the time. Both groups seem to share an impulse to want to deviate from the norm, which to me is good and is what attracts me. I’m very rebellious at heart. I have a problem with authority figures.

Beginnings


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #2

FRANK J. OTERI: Now you’ve been playing music pretty much since the 1960s…

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, the first time I picked up a guitar was at the age of 9 which was 1961 – well that blows it – I just had a birthday, you can work it out.

FRANK J. OTERI: (laughs)

GARY LUCAS: My father came to me and said, “How’d you like to play the guitar, Gary.” I never had any notion of playing anything so he put the bug in my ear, and I thought, ok that sounds like a good idea, so he arranged for me to take guitar lessons which lasted all of about three to four weeks. I was hopeless. They had rented me a practice guitar, which the strings were about 11/2 inches off the fret board, so physically it was very painful to try to grapple this thing. At the same time I had taken an aptitude test at elementary school, a music aptitude test, and I had scored a perfect score 100 on this test, so the band leader in this school decided that I was therefore a natural candidate for the French horn which was absurd because as you can see I barely have an upper lip, so I couldn’t really develop a great embouchure on this instrument. It is very difficult with the intonation being what it is to play the French horn. Nevertheless within a week of taking guitar lessons I also started taking French horn lessons to play in the school band. So that immersed me in music. Prior to that I spent years sitting in a rocking chair in the basement of my father’s house listening to Top 40 radio and bit of the FM radio of the times, so I soaked up a tremendous amount of music that way.

FRANK J. OTERI: What was the first stuff that excited you musically.

GARY LUCAS: Oh, Duane Eddy, Dance with the Guitar Man. That was the first album I remember purchasing. I definitely aspired to learn to play that on the guitar, as well as the theme from Peter Gunn. That really turned me on. And I loved Tchaikovsky‘s 1812 Overture, the sound track to Peter Pan with Mary Martin, my parents had lots of Broadway show tunes playing in the house in the ’50’s when I was growing up. As well as a lot of light, easy listening albums of the day.

FRANK J. OTERI: Although in the ’50’s a lot of that easy listening stuff was really not so “easy”…

GARY LUCAS: Now it’s contemporary…

FRANK J. OTERI: Les Baxter and Esquivel did some pretty out there stuff…

GARY LUCAS: I liked that stuff. I’d go to my neighbor’s. I had these friends who lived in Syracuse, and they had quite a bit of what’s now called “lounge music.” I thought it was terrific.

 

Leonard Bernstein


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #3

FRANK J. OTERI: Now, in the early ’70s, you somehow got connected to Leonard Bernstein.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, that occurred when I was in my junior year of college. So I had been playing guitar for a while. And I saw that the Yale Symphony Orchestra was auditioning to be players of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass, which was a theater piece that was premiered at the Kennedy Center I think in ’72 or ’73. And they were preparing the European premiere in Vienna so I went to the powers that be at Yale, that was John Mauceri who was the conductor of the Yale Symphony then, and volunteered my services as an electric guitarist because there was a part calling for this, and I got the gig. And this enabled me to make my first to Europe. We went to Vienna for two weeks to work on this and it debuted in the summer of 1973. And I remember I think 800 Catholic bishops in Austria protested this work as blasphemous, a slur on the Catholic Mass

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s quite a wild piece…

GARY LUCAS: It is a wild piece, but it definitely comes on the side of peace and religion. It’s you know, not disrespectful, per se.

FRANK J. OTERI: Did you get to work with Bernstein?

GARY LUCAS: A bit because he came to supervise the production right before the opening night, and he gave me specific tips on how he thought the part should be played, because I’d asked him one of the parts that I was required to do was to do a wild, psychedelic blues, rocked out, guitar solo, and it occurred in the moment that was supposed to signify the most decadent, orgiastic scene in the piece, this was to represent the decay of western civilization at this point which you know religion was there to help prop up and preserve. So I said, well, gee, whenever you use electric guitar in this piece it’s always the most decadent and blasphemous part of the production… He counseled me to just sink my teeth into it and rock out. I loved Leonard Bernstein.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well he’s someone who’s coming from an interesting place. I don’t think we’ve had anyone like that since. He was entrenched in the classical music establishment as a conductor. But as a composer, he was also on Broadway, he advocated Jazz on television in the ’50s, he was advocating the Beatles… He was all over the place at time when people were really divided into camps.

GARY LUCAS: There was a great show that was on CBS in ’67 called The Age of Rock. (I have a bootleg copy of it.) He hosted it and talked about how much he loved the Rolling Stones, and the Beatles, Tim Buckley… They played Tim Buckley’s music…

FRANK J. OTERI: Wow!

GARY LUCAS: Brian Wilson had just composed the song “Surf’s Up” and there was a vignette with that, and Frank Zappa, and I think he was cool. He was a big inspiration to me growing up. I used to really soak up the Young People’s Concerts. That’s how I learned a lot about Stravinsky, and Mahler, and it was just great.

FRANK J. OTERI: I think Mahler is a major world figure today because of Bernstein’s advocacy. Before that no one was regularly conducting his symphonies. They’re standard repertoire now.

GARY LUCAS: Yup. Right. God bless Lenny, I think he was a saint in music, and we really need someone of his stature today, I think, to help educate young people coming up.

Other Musical Heroes


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #4

FRANK J. OTERI: Now in those formative years, who would you say were your other musical heroes?

GARY LUCAS: Well, certainly, I loved early British invasion music.

FRANK J. OTERI: Like the Kinks?

GARY LUCAS: Oh yeah. I think I was one of the first people to ever hear The Who. My uncle was a rock promoter in Rochester and brought The Who to play on a package bill before Tommy. I love the Yardbirds. As far as guitarists go, I mentioned Duane Eddy, but Jeff Beck was my idol of the ’60’s, also Jimmy Page, and, of course, Clapton. But to me Beck was my favorite – he had a real sense of humor that he translated on the guitar which I hope I have incorporated in my playing as well. And I liked more a little bit of the more obscure players of late ’60’s like Syd Barrett who was Pink Floyd‘s visionary guitarist and main song writer in their first albums. I loved this guy named David O’List who played in the Nice. I think he was amazing. And then of course all the country blues players such as Son House, Skip James

FRANK J. OTERI: You have an homage to Robert Johnson on one of your albums, it’s really fantastic.

GARY LUCAS: I liked all this music, and I first heard it actually because I loved Captain Beefheart‘s music. I’d been hearing the British take on the blues without investigating the origins of it, and later, joining Beefheart’s band, it sent me back into really immersing myself in country blues and Chicago blues styles. And I heard the antecedents to the British blues players that I loved. And I have to also mention Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac. I think he’s one of the best, all around, blues players that I’d ever heard….

FRANK J. OTERI: One thing I was hearing, I don’t know what you’d think of this combination of influences, but I guess it was it was your first solo album that I was listening to very early this morning, and I was listening to this great instrumental track and I thought it had the technical proficiency, and structural clarity of Robert Fripp with the looseness and easiness of Jerry Garcia combined.

GARY LUCAS: I definitely appreciate the playing of both of those figures. After a while I stopped listening to the original players, to try to use whatever influences I already soaked up and hopefully, continue to forge in my own voice. To me Fripp is a fantastic player, but he’s always tight, he gets a little bit too anal retentive for me to listen to a lot. Jerry Garcia is a great player in his open, free wheeling style. But overall, I’m not really one of those stoned out Deadheads who followed the band. I liked a few moments of their records, and that was it. There weren’t that many groups that have been able to sustain themselves for me to play more than a couple of records.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now you mentioned Zappa at some point.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, I really loved the early Zappa up to about Hot Rats. And then when he go into the riffing jam albums to fusiony albums after that, or the really puerile social satire albums, he lost it for me.

FRANK J. OTERI: My favorite will always be We’re Only In It For The Money.

GARY LUCAS: I love that. That’s a classic album! Such a unified statement… I think he had moments that I would hear, but I didn’t really pursue him as a fan, I didn’t slavishly go out and buy the records. And then the guy put out about 80 records. I’m sure they are all high quality, but I don’t have the time or the patience to absorb so much music when I’m trying to make my own music or think about the world. I mean, God bless people who are so obsessive… for myself I think that maybe of all the groups, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles had the highest number of quality records that you could really listen and which would stand out and stand the test of time.

Captain Beefheart


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #5

FRANK J. OTERI: Let’s talk some more about Captain Beefheart [a.k.a. Don Van Vliet] because he is somebody who’s almost like an equivalent figure in rock to someone like Harry Partch, someone who was really unique and created music exclusively on his own terms.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, a diamond in the ruff, an Absolute sweet generous genius…

FRANK J. OTERI: And someone who is completely under-appreciated like Partch largely due to his own reluctance to play the music industry game.

GARY LUCAS: He liked to subvert the game. I mean, Zappa was able to carve a niche out of a social center of the time for himself. And took swipes at a lot of obvious targets. I mean, he said a lot of things that needed to be said, and he relied on a certain level of satire. Don’s lyrics I think were a lot more poetic and obscure. They’re like puzzles that need to be worked out. But once you get into the flow and I think they become self- evident but you have to work at it a lot harder than with Frank. Frank served up his satiric observations more or less on a platter. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was saying. Don was a just a bit more on a higher, more rarified plane than most people in the world; he was really willing to do the work. Also, for a few of his records, he was attracted to making genuinely radical, revolutionary, new music approaches and a lot of people found them too difficult. The first time I heard Trout Mask Replica I thought it was utter chaos, I didn’t really see the plan behind it.

FRANK J. OTERI: And it was all recorded what, in an 8 hour session…

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, and it was rigorously worked out.

FRANK J. OTERI: Notated arrangements?

GARY LUCAS: Well, notated by people in the band who were able to write it out. Don really never wrote music out. But it was certainly memorized. It was through-composed and then codified. So like classical music, there was no improvisation other than his vocal and saxophone playing on the record. But saying that, to me it stands as the most brilliant, classical music of this century. I rate him as a Titan of music. I rate him as one of the greats, he’s right up there with Stravinsky as a composer. And as a writer I think his poetry is second to none. People go on about as a great rock poet, and Dylan. I think they are both gifted, but I think Beefheart was really ahead of them. His stuff really reads more like poetry for me.

FRANK J. OTERI: And he’s always had incredible sidemen. It’s interesting to look at the trajectory. The very first Beefheart record, Safe As Milk, had Ry Cooder and the very last Beefheart record had you.

GARY LUCAS: (Chuckles) I hope I’m upholding the tradition. You know I feel that it was my first goal in music to play with this guy. I mean, after seeing him in New York City at his concert debut in 1971 in a little club which no longer exists, I made a vow that if I ever did anything in music it would be to play with this guy. I came down with some buddies and drove in from New Haven. I’m a Yalie. And I heard the records, but I wasn’t prepared for this. It really took me over. I thought I’d never heard a guitar played so brilliantly and uniquely, and that’s what I wanted to do. From that point on, it was my goal to play with this guy. And I announced it to my friends. Luckily about 6 months later he came to play a show at Yale, and I was the music director at the radio station at that time, so I was assigned the task of interviewing him. And I have a tape of it somewhere – my voice was shaking. You know, he was on the cover of Rolling Stone, he had a reputation of being a heavy psychic. And he was very affable on the phone, charming and funny. And then meeting him I was convinced that there was a genuine presence.

FRANK J. OTERI: And luckily you got to him just before he gave up playing music. Any thoughts as to why that happened?

GARY LUCAS: He was very discouraged with the kind of limited nature of the record business. He had never really broken through in any commercial way. So he was still getting contracts to make records, yet they weren’t for a lot of money on the front end, and he wasn’t seeing anything on the back end. He really hated to tour; he hated the rock circus. It was taking its toll on him. You know I did the last European tour and most of the American tour in 1980. And afterwards he was just shuddering with disgust before going out on stage, I remember, in San Francisco for instance. So he just saw painting always as a much more creative expression for his personality. I disagreed with him because he made pronouncements to me and to the press that in his mind painting went a lot farther than music as an art form. Be that as it may, he made the decision do to that full time, and I’m proud that I helped usher him into making that transition to full time painter. He had been painting and sculpting since he’d been a kid. But I’m sorry he decided to stop doing music. We had a contract to do another record with Virgin after Ice Cream for Crow but he ignored it. He really didn’t want to put himself through the rigorous agonies of making a record. He’d turn himself inside and out to do these things.

FRANK J. OTERI: Is he writing at all? Do you keep in touch?

GARY LUCAS: I haven’t been in touch since the mid-80s, and I’m not sure how he’s doing. I hope he’s well. I went to an art exhibition a couple of years ago at a gallery on the Upper East Side here and was proud to see the work being displayed. And they were selling for a lot of money, so I hope he’s doing well. I don’t know if he’s continuing. But knowing him, this was a guy who never turned off. He was constantly writing poems, and dictating them into little tape recorders, and coming up with m
usic parts, and whistling, crazy parts that he would have the band run again into a tape recorder… He was always sketching; he had hundreds and hundreds of notebooks filled with beautiful drawings. So I hope he’s still keeping up with the output, although I had heard rumors about his health problems. I saw a documentary that the BBC made a couple of years ago, and he sounded pretty ill, I mean just from the tone of his voice. And I had heard he had M.S., but I don’t know for a fact. I hope he’s well.

Literary Heroes


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #6

FRANK J. OTERI: Now you talked as well about Beefheart being a great poet as well as being a great composer. Now, you also write words for your albums. Who were some of your other literary influences?

GARY LUCAS: I love James Joyce, I love Shakespeare. You know I’m a graduate in English literature, so I have a sort of traditional English Lit background.

FRANK J. OTERI: So not music.

GARY LUCAS: Well, I took some music theory classes, and left them after a couple of sessions at Yale. I didn’t think they’d enable me to do what I wanted to do. I always had a facility to write. I got into Yale probably because I’d won an international award for composition when I was in high school. I’ve attempted to write a novel. I have an art novel somewhere in a drawer that I had abandoned when I made the decision to do music full time. There was a guy named Wyndham Lewis who’s not nearly as well known as Joyce, but to me is right up there as a stylist, as a radical, thinker and writer of the 20th century. He was very naïve politically and got branded as a Nazi sympathizer and a fascist, both of which ideologies he recanted before he died. And he apologized for some statements that he’d made. But he wrote some amazing books such as The Apes of God, and his first novel Tarr is, in the early edition (…it was revised…) it’s just one of the most radical prose styles, and unique prose styles anyone came up with. And there are some affinities in some ways to some of the lyrics Beefheart later did, and I turned Don Van Vliet (Captain Beefheart) onto Wyndham Lewis, and he became a tremendous fan of the work and used to read the books voraciously, and would have me read them to him when the Magic Band was on tour in the UK in 1980 as we drove from gig to gig in the van. Lewis is a hero of mine. I like Nabokov very much. Actually, my last literary passion in a huge way is Isaac Bashevis Singer. And I’d say he’s actually replaced all of these figures as — if I was stranded on a desert I’d ask for some of Singer’s books to take with me. I love his writing. I find it very evocative. Of my roots, my grandfather and grandmother came from Poland. They were Polish Jews. And my father’s relatives come from Bohemia (which is the Czech Republic), Hungary, and also have a little bit of German Jewish blood. So reading Singer, especially when he deals with the old world, the Jewish community right before it vanished by the onslaught of the Nazis, I find it tremendously moving emotionally.

FRANK J. OTERI: That’s actually an interesting irony about being very into Jewish heritage and at the same time being a huge fan of Wyndham Lewis…

GARY LUCAS: I know, I don’t know what it means – I’m not a self-hating Jew. I’m very proud of my heritage, and right now I’m working on a record for John Zorn‘s Tzadik label. I’ve done one already, part of the Radical Jewish Culture series . So it’s taking up some of my pre-occupations and my roots. To tell you the truth, I think I had a small influence on John.

Establishing a Solo Career


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #7

GARY LUCAS: In 1988 I began my solo career under my name, seriously, at the Knitting Factory on a dare. A friend of my dared me to put a concert together. I knew Michael Dorf; he’d been up in my office at CBS Records where I labored for about 11 years as a copywriter. And I’d been to the club. I’d seen Tim Berne, the alto saxophonist/composer, perform there, and Zorn. So it seemed an attractive space for new music. And anyway, I was given this challenge to do this solo show, and I had the bug to be playing again after some years in limbo. Beefheart split up the band in ’84 to do the painting full time. And I had a few years where I wasn’t sure what my next move would be musically. I continued to play the guitar for my pleasure, but I wasn’t taking up offers to do anything — I had some offers to join bands, and what not. And I thought after playing with the number one avant-garde band, what was I to do? I had to really think about it. Then I got side tracked in producing some records for CBS Records, now Sony Music. I did a Tim Berne record first for Columbia, and a Peter Gordon record for Masterworks.

FRANK J. OTERI: Innocent

GARY LUCAS: Yeah. Then I met a band called Wooden Tops, an English band that I liked, and they invited me to play on their record. And I flew to London, and in these sessions, this was about 1988, I reconnected with my love of playing. And I thought, “I should really be doing more of this.” So I started to do more session work for people like Matthew Sweet and Adrian Sherwood. And it started to make sense again. Anyway, then I put the show together in the June of ’88, my solo debut at the Knitting Factory in New York. And despite them leaving me out of the ad for the week, it happened. I had absolutely a sold-out house. They turned people away. And I got wild ovations from the crowd and I felt really a sense of empowerment that night. A friend of mine said it was like a seeing a little sea monster, a Loch Ness Monster, raise its head above water and look around. I just thought, this is what I should be doing. It became obvious, you know, because I was pretty miserable as a copywriter. I could do it but it was just rotting my brain.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting to think about that in classical music, a composer usually studies music composition, and develops some sort of relationship with the composer he or she is studying with, and then does his or her own thing. But in the jazz world and the rock world, you’re a sideman with someone and that’s sort of the equivalent of going through that process. At what point did you decide, “Well, I’m a composer in my own right, I’m a leader in my own right”?

GARY LUCAS: Around this time. Because it seemed I had psyched myself out of attempting to write songs and to compose music, out of fear, basically, that it wouldn’t measure up and it wouldn’t be any good. It was just kind of insecurities, you know, everybody goes through them. Then I got to a certain age when I thought, I don’t care. What do I care If people didn’t like them it’s their problem. But I’m going to do this now. It’s now or never, really. Time to get really busy, or it’ll be too late. Here I have a window of opportunity.

FRANK J. OTERI: How did your involvement with the whole Radical Jewish Culture thing begin?

GARY LUCAS: Well, in November of ’88, I was invited to play my European solo debut at the Berlin Jazz Fest. It coincided with the 50th anniversary of Krystallnacht, which was the night in 1938 where Jewish shops throughout Germany were trashed. It was sort of the beginning of open season on Jews, right before the beginning of World War II. So when I got over there I saw in the newspaper that it was an anniversary, it just got me inspired. I was thinking, ok, I’m going to do a piece about my feelings concerning Krystal Nacht. And I did in the evening performance at the end called Verklärte Krystallnacht, a play on Schoenberg‘s Verklärte Nacht, one of my favorite pieces, Transfigured Night. So I came up with Transfigured Krystallnacht. And it actually drew on some of the music that later I channeled with The Golem.

FRANK J. OTERI: Which is wonderful by the way.

GARY LUCAS: Thank you. Anyway, I played it, and the audience was stunned. I said, “That was Verklärte Krystallnacht” and then there was this “ach”, but then I got an ovation. Then the next day the paper said, “Est ist Lucas”, “It is Lucas” with a picture of me. I don’t know if this piece was the one that particularly sparked this off, but they were in love with what I did.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now when you say “piece,” was this an extended composition?

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, but it was sort of an improv. A lot of my compositions have themes, but there’s plenty of space to improvise around them. The next day too, I saw Zorn who was over there with Naked City, and I had known him since the days I used to go into the Soho Music Gallery where he was a clerk before he got really famous. I used to go in there to get him to put up pictures of Captain Beefheart and the Band, we talked a bit, so we knew each other, and I like John. So I said, “John, John, I got to tell you I did this piece last night called Verklärte Krystallnacht, it’s the 50th anniversary of Crystal Night,” and his eyes got really big. I saw that this tumbling around in his head. It made an impression on him so much so that a few years later he came out with a piece called Krystallnacht, and he debuted it as his First Congress of Radical Jewish Culture. He had a festival in Munich in ’92, and invited me to do The Golem. So that, and plus, then I came back to New York and then started immediately to work on the soundtrack on the The Golem film. It’s a classic 1920 German Expressionist film which is more or less a Jewish Frankenstein story. He was aware of that; he heard about that. So I think this and the fact that Don Byron had done music by Mickey Katz, we were sort of like the early people coming out of this Downtown scene doing Jewish themed music. And it finally registered with John, and he got busy a few years later and started to devote his writing to Jewish-preoccupied themes. He came out with Krystallnacht, and he started Masada, and he started the label. And you know more power to him. He did quite a mitzvah in his life for lots of people, and it’s good for society, in general, to get this work out.

Leader vs. Sideman


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #8

FRANK J. OTERI: I want to talk a little more in this issue about being a sideman versus being a leader, and I want to bounce it off of your scoring a silent film, dealing with a pre-existing work, and adding to it which is sort of along the similar lines of knowing another artist’s work, and then becoming part of that artist’s work by being a sideman on an album or in a concert, which is a very different process than being a leader and taking the music in the direction you want to take it. You’ve done a bunch of TV scoring. I was looking at this list of stuff that you did – you did scoring for the documentary on 20/20 about the Unibomber. That obviously shaped the music that you were doing for these things – that’s on one side of the scale. And then on the other side, you’ve worked with everybody from Nick Cave to Patti Smith. How do you feel that your own identity as a musician got through in all of these different projects, and did that always happen?

GARY LUCAS: I think that I am a bit of a chameleon when I’m asked to play on other people’s records in that I’m able to adapt to the persona of that artist, and it kind of comes though in my playing. But hopefully there’s still that Gary Lucas element, and that’s why they would ask me to play with them anyway, so that also has to be there. It’s interesting. There’s a give and take, kind of thing, and it changes from situation to situation. When I’m asked to do the TV music, or the film scoring, I try to give as pure, unadulterated example of what I can do, and I am often told to tone it down only because of the nature of the medium. You know there’s a thing, especially with documentaries, where they don’t want you to color the news too much, which is to overemphasize the emotions that you’re supposed to feel by exaggerating these characteristics in your music. It really is different. Uh, if you ask me about specific people, I could better tell you how I approach the job. It’s intuitive.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because your assignments were all these terrorist stories, the Unibomber, Waco

GARY LUCAS: It always seemed to me that whenever there was death in the air, somebody up at ABC News would go, “I wonder what Gary is doing.”

FRANK J. OTERI: (laughs)

GARY LUCAS: And I don’t know why that is except that I love life, I’m not death obsessed, but there is this kind of energy, grotesque-rry about some of the music that I do, so that they might think I’m a good candidate to do kind of music that is more on the wilder shores…

FRANK J. OTERI: On the same token, you wrote a song for Joan Osborne, “Spider Web” which was a big hit…

GARY LUCAS: It was a top selling tune on a top selling record. Yeah, why is that? I think that it’s basically because I embrace the unity of music, I don’t really discriminate in my taste to reject things out of hand. Like I like top music when it’s good. I think Joan, and the music that I was allowed to work on, or was encouraged to work on, I should say, had given me the opportunity to really put over some music that was personal to me and amplified it to a wider context that made it accessible to people. If you listen to “Spider Web,” go back to my first album Skeleton at the Feast there’s a song in there called “Tompkins Square Dance” and one of the motifs in “Spider Web” is derived from that. It seemed to me that, ok, it’s a natural progression, I can take something that would stand up on its own as an exciting, colorful, mysterious instrumental piece, and put it over drum machines, and sampled percussion, and you can make a song out of this. I think that a lot of the music that I do stands up, if it has integrity as an instrumental work, it’s a good candidate as a pop song. I’ve written songs, for instance, with Jeff Buckley, both of which started as instrumental pieces. I had them intact. I wrote them here sitting in this chair. Then gave them to Jeff, and he came back and he had lyrics and a melody put over them. But they originally started initially as instrumentals. The song “Grace” originally was titled “Rise Up To Be” and I finally recorded a version of it on the Paradiso EP. So, I don’t really see any difference. To me, if it works as a hypnotic instrumental, it’s a good candidate for a Gary Lucas-type pop song or avant-pop song.

FRANK J. OTERI: Do you notate the music that you do?

GARY LUCAS: I don’t. I actually rely mostly on my memory and also my tape recorder here. I do a lot of composing where I mainly improvise on the guitar and I will come up with motifs and chord progressions…If they give me a chill, I think they are worthy saving on tape.

FRANK J. OTERI: And when you work with other people, you obviously read music, because you worked with Bernstein. But when you work in the context with sidemen and bands that you put together…

GARY LUCAS: I teach them the stuff. I don’t write it out. I just show them what I want them to play, and then direct them. But I also encourage them to come up with their own parts, and their own feel. I’m not as dictatorial as Beefheart. Because with Beefheart, everything more or less had to be completely how he heard it in his head. And me I’m more open for the group and the people I’m working with, to bring their own thing to the table. And I think that’s sort of the beauty of working with other people.

FRANK J. OTERI: I want to talk a little bit about this notion of collective decisions in terms of the group. You started a
band that has sort of been on-again, off-again over the last 11 years called Gods and Monsters. Are the records of Gods and Monsters your albums with sidemen, or are they albums by Gods and Monsters.

GARY LUCAS: The early stuff could be looked at more like an album of sidemen only because from track to track we used different ensembles and players. It was recorded over a few years. And that accounts for that. However, Gods and Monsters is now finishing up a record and it’ll probably be the first unified, band album that I’ve made.

FRANK J. OTERI: And will it be released under the name Gods and Monsters, rather than Gary Lucas?

GARY LUCAS: It’ll be Gary Lucas’ Gods and Monsters. I think it’s important to keep the Gary Lucas only because they have these header cards in records stores – I’ve already got a bin at Tower

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting because Bad Boys of the Arctic was essentially a Gods and Monsters album but it doesn’t say that until you get inside.

GARY LUCAS: Yes, it was. Yeah, well you know. It was sort of a marketing decision and I thought having established the name Gary Lucas as someone whose records you could find in the rock section of a Tower Records, I might as well continue to use it. And when I toured it would always be Gary Lucas and Gods and Monsters. But I just thought the main thing was to hit on the name. Perhaps if we had just become Gods and Monsters, it would be what people would recognize, you know, as an identity.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now is Gods and Monsters a reference to The Golem somehow?

GARY LUCAS: Actually, no, it comes from The Bride of Frankenstein. It’s a line within this film, one of my favorite horror films, in which Dr. Pretorious, this notoriously mad scientist, tells Dr. Frankenstein about an idea to create a mate for Frankenstein’s monster, and he toasts and says, “To a new world of gods and monsters.” The film that’s out called Gods and Monsters derived its title from The Bride of Frankenstein because it was about the director James Whale who had done the early Frankenstein.

FRANK J. OTERI: To get back to this thing about the group identity… It’s your material; you are clearly the leader of this group. Now that it’s a power trio, do you see collective composition happening, or other people in the band contributing to the repertoire of the band?

GARY LUCAS: They haven’t so far. I’ve still maintained the control over that. I’ve been accused of being a bit of a control freak, and it might be true, but again, I’ve encouraged them within my song, to bring their own ideas to the fore. Now my drummer’s got his own band, he’s got a Blues band, the bass player plays with some other people…

FRANK J. OTERI: They both have very interesting backgrounds. Your bass player played with Modern Lovers, and your drummer played with Swans, and then also with La Monte Young who in some ways is a guru of this entire movement of “it-comes-out-of-rock-but-it’s-not-really-rock-anymore…so-what-is-it” music.

GARY LUCAS: Well, they’re great guys, and because of the wide perimeters of their experience in the modern music world, they’re able come to grips with what I’m trying to get across, perhaps better than people who are strictly rock players.

FRANK J. OTERI: When will this Gods and Monsters album be out?

GARY LUCAS: We’re mixing it right now. We’ve been in the studio for the last couple of weeks trying to finish it in time to get a Fall release but I have feeling it’s going to be delayed until January.

FRANK J. OTERI: What label will it be on?

GARY LUCAS: On the Knitting Factory Label. But I do have several other records coming out that are scheduled to come out in the Fall, and in a way this is good because I don’t want too many things coming out at the same time and perhaps cancel each other out – it’s a danger.

1930s Chinese Singers Other Vocal Heroes


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #9

GARY LUCAS: I’ve been working on an album of Chinese pop music of the 1930’s, a genre that I’ve always really loved. My first wife was Chinese, and I lived in Taipei, Taiwan for two years, so I had a background in appreciating this music. I was sort of goated into learning it on the guitar on the behest of my friend Ken Hurwitz who married his Chinese sweetheart in Chinatown a couple of years ago, and they asked me to prepare a some of transcriptions of this music for guitar.

FRANK J. OTERI: For their wedding?

GARY LUCAS: For their wedding in Chinatown, to please his mother-in-law who loved this music. It was a big hit. Lee Ranaldo from Sonic Youth was there at the wedding, and he was also very enthusiastic about this. It’s something that also the critics had picked up on – there’s an example of in on Evangeline. I’ve got this record coming out with Chinese vocalists – half of it is guitar versions of the songs, and some of it is vocal renditions of the songs, and it concerns two great divas of Chinese pop music, Chow Hsuan and Bai Kwong, who are not household names, of course by any means, here, but to the older generation of Chinese, they were superstars. Both of them had different approaches to vocalese. Chow Hsuan had a sweeter, higher pitched voice, the songs kind of remind me of Betty Boop going to Shanghai. Bai Kwong had a deeper, voice, kind of a contralto, really sexy and affecting.

FRANK J. OTERI: Now that you’re bringing this up, we talked about your guitar heroes, your composition heroes, and your poetic and literary heroes, but we didn’t talk about your vocal heroes and where you see yourself as a singer in this whole mix.

GARY LUCAS: Ah, I’ve developed my vocals to the point where I’m comfortable singing a few songs now. I was discouraged from doing this originally because people were like: “Just concentrate on your guitar.” And having had someone like Jeff Buckley in my band, I thought, “This is a hard act to follow.” But my vocals have been getting way more acceptance from the audience over the years. My heroes are people like Bob Dylan who was able to put all the pain and joy of the universe into his minimal vocal style. I like Lou Reed very much. Beefheart, although I don’t really think I’d take anything from Beefheart. Bryan Ferry, another vocalist.

FRANK J. OTERI: I was actually hearing Bryan Ferry in the vocals in your albums.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah. So you know, I think that these are people who I have enjoyed over the years.

FRANK J. OTERI: It’s interesting that you also have a lot of guest vocalists also. I guess it was Bad Boys of the Arctic that had some fabulous female vocalists. Almost things that sounded like the Roches at some times.

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, actually, I have a record that’s being released in France in September, and it’s should be out in the rest of the world outside the U.S. which is like the best of my early Enemy band albums. And I was just now writing liner notes for it, and I was thinking about how great Dina Emerson is, she sang on “Exit, Pursued by a Bear” and she was in my band for a while. She came out of Meredith Monk‘s vocal group. She really has a ferocious range. Also on that album is Sonya Cohen who is the niece of Pete Seeger, and she has a beautiful, clear, Roche-like voice. I continue to like to work with other vocalists occasionally. For the Gods and Monsters album I’ve been working on, I have Elli Medeiros who is a French pop star doing a track. She really brings a different kind of erotic quality to her singing which I really like.

FRANK J. OTERI: Does she comes out of the chanteuse tradition?

GARY LUCAS: Yeah, she’s Uruguaian-Parisian and is a very sexy woman. I definitely responded to working with her in a visceral kind of sense. Also on the record is a singer named Robin Wiley who I made the acquaintance of recently, who reminds me a bit of a country-ish, almost Dolly Parton-ish singer.

FRANK J. OTERI: And what kind of instrumental background are you going to mix with that?

GARY LUCAS: More blues and country, and I’m going to attempt a version of “Grace” with her singing it to see how that goes this week. She’s in L.A. right now. Robin is someone to watch, definitely. Richard Barone is also on the record. He comes out of the Hoboken, power pop sound of the new wave bands of the 80s.

FRANK J. OTERI: So are you doing any vocals on this album?

GARY LUCAS: Mainly, mostly. I’m doing 6-7 vocal songs.

FRANK J. OTERI: A
re all the tracks going to be songs?

GARY LUCAS: There are two instrumentals. I always feel that there should be two instrumentals on a record. And there might even be a solo guitar instrumental – I’ve got a back log of them as well. But it’s going to be pretty much a unified band album. The first album with a consistent rhythm section all the way through.

Marketing Alternative Music


Gary Lucas
Interview Excerpt #10

FRANK J. OTERI: You have a very active Web site that has won all sorts of awards. How has the web helped you to promote your music?

GARY LUCAS: It’s basically functioned as an electronic billboard out there in cyberspace so that anyone interested in my activities can go to it and find out about me if they don’t know much about me. I’m lucky because I got in on the construction of this thing 4 or 5 years ago through a couple of my friends who are computer wizzes, I am not I have to tell you. I am also a little bit skeptical of ultimately the way things are going with computers. I’m very cynical of Napster and MP3 files, although I may well put an unreleased track on my site as an MP3 giveaway soon. I came out of a generation that really missed out on the computer mania. I didn’t really learn how to learn to operate a computer until recently. And more or less only to give and get e-mail which is what I think it’s good for. To me the idea of spending hours hunched over a keyboard to surf the net or to listen to music, does not appeal to me at all. I can see the advantages to it obviously, with an exchange of information in some professions. But for me as a composer and songwriter, it doesn’t really do anything other than to alert people to my gigs, to tell them I have CDs available, and merchandise.

FRANK J. OTERI: So do you sell CDs on the Web?

GARY LUCAS: I do, but you know it’s not really yet a significant component of my overall career.

FRANK J. OTERI: Is Enemy Records your own label?

GARY LUCAS: No. Enemy was a label that was active in the late 80s and throughout most of the 90s. They were based in Germany and they had an office in New York. They pretty much ceased to exist as a functioning label, they have not released any new artists, or records in about 5 years.

FRANK J. OTERI: But their albums are still in print…

GARY LUCAS: They’re still in print in the U.S., some of them trickle into Europe as imports. And they’re available still on Amazon and CDNow. I think it was a great label in so far as the guy who ran it, Michael Kanoe, took real risks in signing non-mainstream artists. When I was there, they had Sonny Sharrock, Elliot Sharp, Jean-Paul Bourelly… It was real guitar, experimental guitar. The catalog was very good. But he came up against what a lot of indie-recording companies have, which is how to really get the music in the marketplace, and promote it in the face of thousands of records being released every month.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well I think these labels, these experimental risk-taking rock labels really function the same way as contemporary classical music labels and avant-jazz labels. We are all in the same situation. And interestingly enough, I think our audiences are the same. I wanted to ask you an audience related question, who do you think your audience is?

GARY LUCAS: From what I gather, many, many different kinds of people. I don’t think there’s a coherent demographic to it, other than people who are bored with what’s out there. ‘Cause I think most of it is crap, and my fans would agree. I think it’s people who are like seeking something more diverse that’s not idiomatic to genres. I got fan mail recently from fans in New Zealand, I don’t know how they discovered me, and they like the Jewish stuff. And they said, “Oh my Grandparents adore this record.” So I know there are some elderly people who are into it. I get fan mail too from young kids who discovered me when I played in France last time, some really young fans who stood in front of me, and staring at my fingers while I was playing. So they’re guitar freaks, they’re new music freaks, they’re Jewish music freaks. It spans genres, like my music; it spans types of people. I couldn’t really say that it’s one particular segment of an audience. But they’re out there. It’s how to get to them. That’s the question. Hopefully the Web site is one way that people who like what I do would at least be clued in to what my new releases were.

FRANK J. OTERI: All I can tell you is the first bug that got me thinking about this interview was that it was really exciting for me to be in Tower Records and to see Improve the Shining Hour next to Luscious Jackson in the Rock section. I thought “yes” because there it was this album that’s so all over the place and that’s so experimental next to mainstream pop music.

GARY LUCAS: That’s amazing. I feel lucky that way. See I never, as much as I’m identified as a Downtown player, I’m not your typical Downtown musician in so far as that I like pop music and I embrace it. I try to make popular music. I don’t try to limit myself to Downtown. On the other hand, I hate formulas, so I’m always trying to subvert formulas. I just couldn’t knuckle down to make a real, schmaltzy pop song that didn’t have some Gary Lucas twist in it. Anyway, it’s not where you’re from, it’s where you’re at. Uptown, Downtown, let’s get rid of these labels. Beefheart had this record called Lick My Decals Off, Baby, which he said meant “get rid of the labels.” And I think that’s important. Anyway, I will continue to try and reach out to a mainstream audience without actually making mainstream-type music because my experience is that once people hear what it is that I do they like it. It’s very user-friendly. It’s big on melodies. I like melodies; it could be going back to my parents playing Broadway show tunes in the house. And I like noise too. So in between these extremes of my experience, hopefully there are areas in there that all sorts of people can pick up on. And yet in a crafty sense I never try to aim at one particular market. So it’s a blessing and a curse. On one hand I get to really put my feelings on display, I get to play what I feel, and I like all these kinds of genres, but on the other hand it’s a bitch to market. It’s like how to go after what market, what niche. I don’t really know what niche I want. Some people have called it world music for God’s sake.

FRANK J. OTERI: Well it’s all world music unless it’s created in outer space. (laughs)

GARY LUCAS:
Well there you go, that’s right, I like that. I’m a one world-er that way.

A NewMusicBox Exclusive: Gary Lucas Plays

Animal Flesh
2mins 25secs – 1.7MB
Play
The Songstress on the Edge of Heaven
2mins 28secs – 1.7MB
Play

 

Animal Flesh
2mins 25secs – 1.7MB

 

The Songstress on the Edge of Heaven
2mins 28secs – 1.7MB

Where do you think that your music fits on the classical-popular divide? Why?

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Neil Haverstick Neil Haverstick
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Erik Hoversten Erik Hoversten
“…The most innovative music, after all, does not fit into any pre-designated categories…”
John Shiurba John Shiurba
“I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve heard comments like ‘your stuff is too rock for the weird music crowd’, or ‘too weird for the rock music crowd’, ‘too jazz for the’…”