Showing posts with label Michael Yezerski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Yezerski. Show all posts

Thursday, 10 July 2008

Child's tale taps emotional scales

From The Sydney Morning Herald 10/07/08

Two composers have collaborated on a work which captures their response to a picture book story about a little girl's bad day, writes Clare Morgan.

Everyone knows the feeling. You wake up with the nameless dreads, as if a dark cloud is hanging over you and nobody understands why you feel so low or can penetrate that sense of being alone.

The Australian author and artist Shaun Tan captured such emotions exquisitely in his children's picture book The Red Tree, the deceptively simple story of a little girl struggling through a bad day, confused and afraid, until a final, glorious blossoming of hope.

Read the full article.

Monday, 30 June 2008

A Conversation with Michael Yezerski

Michael Yezerski is co-composer of The Red Tree, the ACO's July tour. He spoke with Robert Murray about the process of creating this brand new work based on the acclaimed book by Shaun Tan for the ACO and Gondwana Voices.

How have you approached translating the book into music?

The book is not a straight narrative, it’s a series of painting that evokes a series of different moods to do with what could be thought of as depression or turbulent emotion. So the music is not also literal or linear. It’s basically seven emotional states, and there are seven movements in the piece. They’re all pretty dark although it does come to a positive place in the end, a really pure and uplifting place. Because it’s a picture book people might think of it as being for children but it’s really for adults too. The idea of the book is that you can have a bad day and that’s perfectly OK because at the end it, there’s hope.

That’s defined the direction of the music. You’ve got movements which are emotional and turbulent and beautiful and rich and strange but you also get to this place which is one of absolute beauty and hope.

What attracted you to this project?

When Richard Tognetti calls you and asks you to work with him… that on its own is enough to get you pretty excited. Then you add in the element of the ACO (I’ve been coming to ACO concerts for as long as Richard’s been leading them). Even if I was just writing for the ACO I’d be really, really excited. But then, when you add in the Gondwana Voices and Lyn Williams [Gondwana Voices Artistic Director]… they’re just an extraordinary bunch of kids with amazing voices and Lyn of course has taken them to the most incredible level in terms of artistry and professionalism and musicality.

Then, of course, there’s Shaun Tan and his images. I discovered Shaun probably eight years and I started looking at his books. He published a book called ‘The Rabbits’ which he wrote with John Marsden and that was the first time I noticed him and since then I’ve been following every single book. It was kind of random that Richard happened to call and ask if I was interested in collaborating on a Shaun Tan-inspired piece.

It’s an amazing opportunity for a composer and I’m very honoured to be asked.

You already had an attachment to paintings. What is it about Shaun’s work that you find so compelling?

I’m really interested (and it’s something I try to do in my own work) in texture and complexity of texture. For example, if you actually look at the original illustrations you discover that there are so many layers in his work. So many layers of paint and brushwork and etching and scratching and colours. And then so many different shapes laid on top of each other. Then on top of that, there are all these different ideas. He talks about creativity being about bringing things from all different areas and putting them in one illustration. For example, there’s a painting in the book called ‘Then All Your Troubles Come At Once’ which is all these ships closing in around the girl. It’s inspired by a Turner painting called ‘Steamboat off a Harbour’s Mouth’. It’s that kind of connecting of ideas which I really relate to. It’s the kind of thing I try to do in my work too, to take different bits of things that I’ve heard during my life and try to fit them in or allude to them.

Shaun has the most amazing mind in that he really makes everything that he does his own. I think in a creator that’s really the highest you can aspire to.

You mention texture and colour. Does that give some indication of what the ‘sound world’ of The Red Tree is like?

Well I hope so. One of the first things that I did when I first started thinking about the piece what to actually trace some of the illustrations onto some tracing paper and then put them up against a sheet of manuscript and look at the way some of the lines fell on the page. It sounds completely wanky [laughs]. We actually got a couple of melodies and a couple of little phrases that ended up in the final piece that are based on those tracings. So it’s almost like some the illustrations actually have dictated the musical line.

Beyond that, it’s things such as if I’ve seen a Japanese influence in one the paintings, maybe I’ll allude to it in one of the melodies. Certain colours of painting have evoked certain textural ‘colours’ in the music. If one of the paintings is quite orange I’ll try to make an ‘orange’ feel in the music.

If a person went into the concert with their eyes closed and didn’t look at the images, would they be able to get a sense what those paintings were about from listening to it?

Whenever you sit down to write any piece – whether it’s a concert piece or a film score – you want the music to stand alone, it has to speak for itself. The images are a point of reference for the audience but you don’t need the images to tell you what the music’s doing and similarly you don’t need the music to describe the images. It’s a symbiotic relationship but not a co-dependant relationship.

Could you tell us about the process – the collaboration?

Everyone asks how is it possible for two composers to sit down and write a piece. I think ordinarily – or in the past - that this hasn’t been possible mostly for technological reasons. Software allows you to send ideas and scores back and forth by email. It’s not two people sitting at a piano arguing over who gets to put pencil to paper. Richard and I started off hurling ideas at each other and the best ones ended up on the page and in the piece. We began at King Island in December and we spent the week down there in lock up throwing ideas around, throwing concepts around. Then in early January and we each worked on our own, developing and shaping. Then soon after we went to the Gondwana Voices Choral Summer School and worked with the kids for two days. We presented some really early sketches; that was absolutely invaluable as we got to hear a pretty good realisation of the early ideas so we knew straight away what was working and what wasn’t and what they liked and didn’t like. From there it’s been building bit by bit until here we are with this behemoth at the end.

Is working this way more difficult or easier or just different from your usual practice?

I would say it’s different. It definitely poses challenges, there’s no question. Generally with concert music the authorial voice is very, very strong, the idea that there’s this one Great Composer.

In this way, it’s a really fascinating process because what you’re actually getting is the best ideas of two authorial voices. Hopefully we’ve found a way to seamlessly connect everything but there’s still Richard’s and my ‘DNA’ in every part of this piece.

At the end of it, it’s been a really fulfilling and rewarding process for both of us. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from working with him.

What do you hope that people will take away from the evening?

It’s kind of old-fashioned but I really hope people will love it. I really hope that people will love the piece and love the performance and love the experience. Opportunities like this don’t come very often, when you have this incredible fusion with images, orchestra, choir, soloists, Richard and his violin and a new work. We want to encourage the future creation of these kinds of events. I do hope that audiences will be moved by it, that they’ll be thrilled. Parts of the piece they might find very confronting, which is a very necessary part of the work and part of the journey of the story. But those more confronting moments will be balanced by moments of absolute beauty and purity. When audiences leave I hope they’ll leave uplifted and moved and want to hear more.

Visit Michael's website.
Learn more about The Red Tree.