Mountain Rehearsals - Week Five

Brian Chow and his erhu.

Say hello to the erhu (pronounced ar-hoo). The erhu is a traditional Chinese two-stringed instrument that I've included in the orchestrations for Mountain. It has been a welcome challenge getting to know the erhu and composing for its specific qualities. There were some limitations: no pizzicato, no double-stops (since the bow is placed between the two strings), and the combination of a very rich low range and a thinner high range.  The erhu also favors certain keys over others, so I did my best to keep the key signatures throughout the show within that realm.  I am still learning the instrument, and will probably learn more once we get it amped in our performance space and mixed in with mic'd actors. I can't say I've perfected the ability to write for erhu, but I have found the process of getting to know it very rewarding. The result is that I have woven a Chinese instrument into the fabric of the score, giving the music a connection to the culture from which the stories stem.

I would be amiss if I neglected to mention our erhu player, Mr. Brian Chow. Finding him was quite the feat. I Google- and Facebook-stalked, I mean... searched, for hours trying to find a Bay Area erhu player who would be open to being part of a theatrical piece. Last Fall, I found Brian, who at the time was studying erhu at the Conservatory of Music in Beijing. As luck would have it, Brian was returning to the States in January, just in time to start rehearsals for Mountain. I was beyond thrilled! Working with Brian has been such a treat, and he brings a level of professionalism and dedication to his art and performance that has been a great asset to our production as a whole. So, audiences will not just be taking in Grace Lin's re-imagining of traditional Chinese folk tales; they will also be able to experience the beautiful tones of a traditional Chinese instrument!

In other news, I made a few more script changes to tighten up the pacing this past weekend. These flexible and up-for-anything actors are rolling with the changes and making this magic happen! We're at the stage of running the show, working specific notes and smoothing out transitions to get us ready for TECH NEXT WEEK!!! Can't wait for you all to see this brand-new work!

Mountain Rehearsals - Week One

Rehearsals have officially begun for the world premiere of Where the Mountain Meets the Moon. These early days are fascinating because what began as words and sheet music slowly starts to get its own skeleton as a performance piece. We are in a modest dance room in Oakland. We use some props that are just for rehearsal, and sometimes props that will make it to the actual production once they are painted and embellished. We try things, throwing ideas out and taking cues from each other. There is spike tape in a variety of colors outlining our imaginary set. We have looked at sketches and color swatches. We've listened to sound samples. There's a lot of waiting, discussion and thinking.

Minli's dining table in the rehearsalroom. Inside the bowl are two coins, one of which starts our protagonist on her journey.

Perhaps what fascinates me the most is that the final product will be built upon this skeleton, but only after much has been pruned and plucked away. To the audience's eyes, it will arrive as a complete package. But those of us in this dance room will know the sparser versions of the show that had to come before. The discarded drafts, the revised movements, the great ideas that ultimately had to be cut will still be with us. As well as the joy, the jokes, the shared memories that come from working together on this project. It's funny because from day one of rehearsals, the end is always in sight. But I already know that the end will come much too soon.

So I take to heart the lesson that Grace Lin teaches us through her novel. "Thankfulness."

I am thankful to be here in the midst of this creating, as it unfolds before me.

The Olympus Surprise Song

This is not what writing is like all the time.

Writing is taxing work. I can spend hours on a single section of dialogue choosing, re-choosing, deleting, re-ordering words, and still end the day feeling like I barely made a step forward. Writing music with lyrics gets even more complicated because there is the added aural dimension which will affect mood, atmosphere and story. What key? What's the tonality? When should notes rise and fall? Which words should be emphasized? Am I emphasizing the correct syllables as if the words were spoken? This laboring over details makes up the majority of my work when I write songs - toiling over rhyme, meter and melody as if trying to solve a riddle, often leading to frustration, but usually resulting in a rewarding finish if I stick with it.

And then there are the surprise songs.

These are the song moments in my shows that come together as if by magic on the first go. The songs that show me why people came to believe in Muses as angelic voices inspiring people to write, paint, perform.  They often end up with a depth or flow that I could not have imagined when I first set about writing them. And each of my shows so far has had at least one surprise song. Below, I discuss the development of one of them.

"I Used To Weave" from Tales of Olympus
I knew I wanted to include the story of Athena and Arachne when I was conceptualizing Tales. The problem with adapting the myth, however, was that Athena is completely justified in punishing Arachne for her pride and insults against the gods. So I asked the questions "What if Arachne really was a better weaver than Athena? What if transforming Arachne into a spider was a result of Athena losing her composure and acting impetuously?" And then this question came, which set the tone of the song: "What if Athena has not been able to weave ever since the 'Arachne incident,' because the act is a nagging reminder of her lowest moment?"

Then came the opening lyrics "I used to weave..."

Calliope (Chrissy Brooks), Zeus (Steven Shear), Hermes (Min Kahng) and Aphrodite (Lauren Spencer) tell Athena (Michelle Drexler) she's not so bad.

This set-up allowed the song to have layers. We get to know Athena as a fuller character, and more importantly as a flawed character. In regards to character arc: by singing "I Used To Weave" Athena is finally giving in and telling a story, when previously she sat to the side, unwilling to participate. There is also a key revelation about the relationships on Olympus. At the end of the song, the other gods console Athena, showing for the first time that this dysfunctional, leftover group of gods is really a family of sorts. The song also contains some of my favorite lyrics:

Now I'm best of who's left
But I've lost all the joy
Of creating a blanket, a scarf or a sleeve
And each spider I see is a reason to grieve
I used to weave...

There's something about the words best, left, lost, blanket, scarf, sleeve, spider and grieve with their blended, recurring consonants and their simplicity. This combined with the sense of loss and regret with which the words are sung (performed masterfully by both Michelle Drexler in the world premiere, and by Rebecca Pingree for the staged reading) pulls at my heart in a way that's difficult to describe, except to say I am moved.

"I Used To Weave" is my favorite song in Tales of Olympus. It has also remained largely unchanged from its original draft, which is understandable: Surprise songs, formed from an outflow of sudden inspiration, usually don't need major revisions.

Influence: Alan Menken, King of Melodies

In 1991, I got the soundtrack for Disney's Beauty & the Beast on cassette tape before I had even seen the movie. What I heard on that tape was epic. The opening number "Belle" in particular blew my mind completely with its layered vocals and bright melody. When I finally saw the movie at the theater, I remember getting so excited that "Belle" was beginning that I shouted out "Bonjour! Bonjour!" right along with the 2-D French people on the screen. My mom and sisters had to shush me and tell me that it was not polite to blurt out the words. My love for this film was further solidified when the VHS came out on October 30th the following year, and I opted to skip trick-or-treating just so I could watch Belle, Beast, Gaston, et al three times in a row on Halloween.

I couldn't have told you then what it was about the score for Beauty & the Beast  that I was so taken by. I know now, though, that it was a combination of lyricist Howard Ashman's fantastic use of the English language, and composer Alan Menken's uncanny ability to make melodies that whisk you away into the story. Ashman, unfortunately, was taken from the world way too soon. But Menken continued on to create the memorable scores for Aladdin, Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Hercules. Each new Menken-Disney project offered musical compositions that were unique from those of previous films (compare Pocahontas  to Hercules , for example). And yet, they all brought the storytelling power that came to be expected of 90's Disney films. This is why, even as a kid, I was sorely disappointed with the music in The Lion King.  This is not to harp on Elton John's amazing pop sensibilities. But there's just something about a Menken melody that grabs you and says "Listen! Something very important to the story is being sung here!"

Why do Menken's melodies work so well? Two answers. First, I think it's because he knows when to surprise us. Take my favorite Menken tune "Out There" from Hunchback.  The structure is pretty standard for an "I want..." ballad. There isn't anything particularly tricky about the meter or structure or form. But the main melody of the chorus starts off with a descending minor 7th. For those who are less musically inclined, all you need to know is that a descending minor 7th is very rare in songs. Menken harmonizes it so well that you don't realize it's so different, but the subconscious impact remains. This big jump in the melody sounds fresh and expansive, and gives the song its particular character.

Second, Menken's not afraid to keep things simple. The song "Beauty & the Beast" is essentially a series of varying five-note patterns, some of which are overtly scales going up or down (think "Barely even friends / Then somebody bends"). But he chooses his five notes carefully each time, and the little surprises that arise give the song its emotion (think of the difference between "Tale as old as time" and "Song as old as rhyme." Rhyme is the surprise note.) What I also think is so compelling about the song, is that it never overstates itself. Even the climax happens right in the middle, rather than towards the end, where many Broadway numbers like to build. The music stays simple, and doesn't let itself get in its own way. It allows the audience to just take in what's happening - Belle and Beast are falling in love.

While I am forever indebted to Mr. Menken for his musical influence in my life, I will probably never be able to capture the exact quality of a Menken melody. I'll be happy if my songs have a sort of "Min-ken" quality about them. And maybe someday, a parent will have to shush their kid in the audience of one of my shows because the little one just couldn't help but sing along.