by Kerry Turner
I began horn when I was 10 years old. One of my very first gigs was playing 3rd horn on Mendelssohn’s Elijah with the San Antonio Choral Society. I was only in sixth grade. After rehearsing for a month, I started writing my own music in a similar style. I sat down at our piano and began composing oratorio-type pieces. My mother, who was a concert pianist, became aware of this talent and decided to teach me how to actually notate music. She gave me a few music theory tips as well. Throughout my junior high and high school years, I composed a lot of tone poem-style pieces. My parents encouraged me to concentrate on composition and not so much on horn. I won a large composition department scholarship to Baylor University, but I decided to double major in horn as well. When I transferred to the Manhattan School of Music, I was encouraged to specialize, so I chose the horn. It was only when I began my activities with the American Horn Quartet that I took up composing again.
At the beginning of my composition career, I was writing specifically for the members of the American Horn Quartet, whose playing abilities I knew intimately. Shortly after that, when I began composing for other people, I sometimes considered their playing abilities, and sometimes I didn’t. For example, I have been commissioned by a few amateur ensembles, and of course I had to take that into consideration. When I am in the process of composing, I allow the creative muse to dictate what I am writing. But I really tried to keep my eye on the level of difficulty. As a performer, I am very much aware of the need to leave enough time for rests during the course of the piece. But for some of the commissions I get for professional symphony orchestras, I’m well aware of the proficiency for which I am writing.
For many years, when I agreed to a commission, I included a phrase in the contract that stated that the commissioner is aware of the compositional style of the composer. There were people who commissioned me and were expecting an avant-garde piece or postmodern work. I always live by the philosophy that composers should be true to their own voices. Although my musical language is predominantly tonal, I have studied, experimented in, and incorporated other styles of composition, which composers today have inherited—for example, twelve-tone, minimalism, extended techniques, and neo-medievalism. I have never changed my musical language to suit a commissioner’s personal taste. The times I have tried to experiment with more dissonant, “modern” composing, it has not been a success.
Did composing change me as a horn player? The large answer to that is “no.” The recent answer to that is “yes.” Certain friends of mine have encouraged me to write somewhat easier pieces. When I say easier, I mean not as extreme in the demands of the range, and maybe not so technically difficult. Also, as an older player, I’m hesitant to write extremely difficult pieces for myself. But in the end, the muse dictates what I do. A classic example of this is my new work for IHS 55 for four horns and string orchestra. I kept the horn parts fairly reasonable, but there is a complex fugue in the last movement with about 16 devilishly difficult bars for the soloists.
After you’ve composed a lot of music and studied a lot of compositions from many different periods, especially new music, you learn to understand music much more quickly and at a deeper level. I’ve also learned how to spot the passages in a composition that were probably difficult for the composer to write. Very often in my orchestra during rehearsals, I became clearly aware of the composer’s mammoth accomplishment in a certain passage. And I have often wanted just to stand up and ask everybody if they were also aware of what an unbelievable miracle that passage is! This happens especially often with Richard Strauss and J.S. Bach.
Composing is a special gift. I’m not so certain that it can be taught and learned if you don’t already have an aptitude for it. I know this is not a popular thing to write. However, I would advise those who want to follow this path to study the compositions of the great masters. When you are in the zone, 90% of what you are writing is inspiration. But you really must hone your technical skills to get you through the remaining 10%. I think that might be a quote from Brahms, actually.
When you are presenting your music to your colleagues in the hope that they will play it, try to present them with short pieces, pieces that properly represent your ability. Musicians are much more likely to try your piece if it is short. If they want more, someone will ask for it.
Years ago, a friend of mine once told me to be very careful about which pieces I release to the world. People will form an opinion about your ability as a composer from that single hearing. So make it good!
