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Composing in the Wilderness Part 2

PART 2 of 3 – Composing in Denali National Park & Preserve

DAY 1:

With our packs filled with sleeping bags, long johns, and staff paper – no computers or keyboards – our group of ten composers, meet and greet as we head for the van to Denali National Park and Preserve. We seem gel instantly and eagerly share thoughts and ideas. As we approach Denali from Fairbanks, we all get quiet. The Alaska of our imaginings has begun to take shape. We arrive in time to attend an afternoon performance of Red Shift, a quartet out of New York, and tonight the Fairbanks Summer Arts Festival’s string orchestra is performing “Denali” by Steven Lias, and pieces by Mark O’Conner, and Pytor Tchaikovsky. This marks the first time the park has hosted musical performances, much less nine composers! They are thrilled to have us.

DAY 2:

Hiking from our campsite, we clamored up an almost hidden trail to an archeological site, with evidence that humans cooked in this spot 6000 years ago. After a couple of hours of hiking, we have 30 minutes of quality creative time to think, compose or just listen.  Five of us used half of it climbing a peak – which turned out to be a false peak! The park seminar camp is located at Teklanika River, a wide winding braid of glacial snow melt. Margi, our park leader answers our questions on botany and geology, and  shows us that fall in Alaska is not far away – hints of orange are beginning to show, while Davyd guides us our listening of  sound.

Space is a critical component of music and sound, as well as place. The space here is vast. I’m sitting nearly at the top of this point, out of the wind, and before me lies a carpet of green pocked with glacial lakes. The ground is covered with mats of tundra and wildflowers, but much of the vegetation is made up of willow and dwarf birch bushes, which we’ve climbed over and around to get here. Lack of exercise is not an issue! Not so distant, the Teklanika River divides the immediate landscape from the mountains behind it. Davyd discussed the water beneath the surface; perhaps a microphone below the soil would provide some interesting information.

Cloudy and misty for the last couple of days, the sun is emerging. Vigorous exercise opens the mind and the senses. The aroma here includes thousands of plants mirroring the soundscape in breadth and diversity. Steve gave us our ensembles yesterday. I now know what instrumentation I’m writing for.

DAY 3:

Gratefully, the rain has not chosen to dampen our hikes. We’re meeting nightly in the camp yurt to share our reflections and inspirations, discuss our pieces and to consider various perspectives regarding composing and wilderness. In a group of nine, we all expected some overlap in our pieces and their influences, but there isn’t any. The discussion is intense – everyone shares ideas. This synergistic process is rare, but exponentially beneficial!

Today, we hiked halfway up Cathedral Mountain to help Davyd install a sound station.  He carefully described the equipment and process of collecting data. His recorder sound card can hold 28 days of continuous sounds! He was delighted that we understood most of the acoustical terms, concepts and rudiments of recording devices. After lunch, we attempted to climb up to Cathedral Peak, but the rockiness and wind prevented the full ascent.  we’ve stopped for to take some creative time along a creek in the mountain’s watershed. Just ahead of us is a pocket of receding snow, so some people are creatively experiencing snow in July. This morning, I finalized the format, duration and additional elements of the piece to make it interesting. We have three more days to finish it. I’m happy it’s coming together.

DAY 4:

Heading toward the Eielson Visitor Center, we are hiking at Polychrome Mountain, up along a creek bed known for fossils. The “pitches” of the stream, some distinct, others indeterminate, sing on a micro level, depending upon the flow of energy released. Last night’s discussion centered around the intersection of composing and exploring nature. Nature opens up the creative spirit of all artists, which is why we make such great ambassadors for parks and monuments.

Eielson Visitor Center houses many works of previous artists in residence. I found it interesting that Rachelle Dowdy’s sculpture of “Baby Raven Trio” was directly influenced by the sounds of the park. I am thinking about how to adequately present the works of composers to visitors – not just here, but at all the parks with Artist-In-Residence programs.

This morning I woke up teaming with ideas to “improve” my piece, but our tight timeline requires us to trust our instincts. We have to move forward. Who knows, sometimes our first ideas are the best ones.

DAY 5:

For our last hike in the park we climbed up a trail to Inspiration Point. It’s not on a map, but somewhere between the Sanctuary and Savage Rivers.

Stopping on a shelf about a half-mile beneath the point itself, Davyd removes the large parabolic microphone from his backpack. He uses it to capture localized sounds cleanly without extraneous noise. One of our lessons is that without motorized noise, our ears are more open and we can hear much more in the distance. My ears are open wide. We are taking turns listening – ok, my turn. When turning the mic away from the group and toward the plants, the sounds in the headphones belied my relative position to everyone else. Standing nearly right behind me, I barely heard their presence!! My astonishment was captured at the exact moment of discovery (not my best picture – we have been camping for four days).

Last night, we discussed Denali’s decision to partner with the Fairbanks Summer Arts Program and bring music to the park. Steve’s residency was certainly eye opening for them. The parks have long recognized the benefits of partnering with visual artists. It seems that compositional residencies should be a natural extension of these artistic programs. But since music historically and culturally moves and connects people in significant ways differently than visual art, could partnerships with composers have an even greater impact? Hmm.

The day dawned clear; sunny days are rare in this part of Alaska, especially in July. So, it was no surprise to Davyd, our soundscape ecologist (not his real title, but one we think fits what he does really well) that the day began to cloud over. As he puts the equipment away, we take some time for creative stuff. Margi shouts – a pink glow to the south – is it? Maybe? Yes!  The great mountain, has graced us with a barely perceptible glimpse of its magnitude.

I’ve made great progress on my piece, though not as much as I’d like. It’ll be a long evening. Rehearsals begin in the morning.