Richard A. Crosby, composer

Who or what are the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?

Of course I studied Music History as a student and had favorite composers from different eras—particularly the Romantic era and early 20th Century such as Beethoven, Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Delius, Debussy, and Ravel, Then I taught Music History for 20 years at the college level and while explaining to my students the techniques the composers were using throughout the ages I found that my list of admired composers grew in both directions: Josquin, Monteverdi, Gabrieli, Bach, Haydn, Mozart, and then Bartók, Sibelius, Prokofiev, Walton, Falla, Ginastera, Barber, Griffes, Beach, and many more. Plus, my colleagues at EKU and around Kentucky responded well to my music, encouraged me, and were happy to not only perform it but even commission it

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

My hand problems, which have been my greatest challenge as well as presenting me with some of my greatest opportunities. In the late 90s I began having trouble with Trigger Finger, a very painful condition where your fingers can lock in a curved position because of swollen tendons unable to pass through the pulleys in the palm. After cortisone injections the only recourse is to surgically release the A-1 pulley (right where the finger meets the hand). Luckily the fingers can still curl without that pulley. Between 1998 and 2003 I had 4 fingers (index and middle on each hand) that needed this procedure. As I would recover from one procedure and hope to resume performing another finger would go bad. Let me tell you, when performing is the way you express yourself and that is taken away it does terrible things to the psyche. Never one to sit around and wallow in self-pity I decided to pursue composition as an alternative. I’d always wanted to be a composer but, as a young man I was frustrated that I didn’t have anything original enough to say. Think of that old maxim (I’m paraphrasing) that no one should try to write a novel before age 40 because they haven’t lived long enough to have something to say. I wrote a few art songs and an organ piece entitled “Flourish” for my sister’s wedding (a recording can be heard on YouTube) in my 20s, but I got busy performing. Now, I was faced with a major life change at 43. I started composing and found it quite agreeable—and so did performers and listeners. THEN, I stumbled off an un-painted curb, landed on my hands and tore tendons loose in my forearms! But I fought my way back once again, with tendons taken from my feet grafted into my elbows (it’s called a “Tommy Johns Procedure”) and once again was able to play. So now, after a decade of misery and challenges, I could still play as well as I ever had AND I could compose. You’ll note, that’s me playing piano on everything on the CD.

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working on a commissioned piece?

So far, the challenges have been minimal. Most people just want me to write them something that uses my skill, has a certain length, and they know it will be in a Ne-Classical, Neo-Romantic style. Quite often they are open to whatever I want to do as long as it is for the instrument(s) or ensemble they specify and has the “Crosby sound” that they like—lyricism, emotion, and an understandable structure. No one has asked me to write a 12-Tone piece, and I have no interest in writing one.

What are the special challenges/pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles or orchestras?

I’ve been fortunate in having highly talented colleagues, both soloists and conductors, for whom I’ve written most of my works. The soloists have often been world class, like Sila Darville (Violin, Viola), Nathan Jasinski (Cello), Ken Haddix and Nate Siler (Trombone). As far as conductors, my biggest challenge has been dealing with one who felt it was his right to change notes, leave out parts—and arguing with me about it in front of the ensemble! I’m a reasonable guy, but I know what I’m doing, and if I want those sorts of suggestions from a conductor, I will ask for them. Most conductors know better than that. As far as singers, I’ve written a few solo vocal things and enjoy working with singers a lot, and I’ve written several choral works which have also been good experiences. I hope to do more.

Of which works are you most proud?

There are several. If I’m being objective, I think that my Viola Sonata, Violin Sonata, Cello Sonata and Piano Sonata are particularly strong. Also, my Variations Op. 13 and “By the Waters of Memory” for solo piano are the others. All but the Violin Sonata are on the present recording. The Variations are “character variations,” similar to Mendelssohn’s ‘Variations serieuses,” as opposed to theme and variations used by Mozart and Beethoven. “By the Waters of Memory” is nocturne-like descriptive piece reminiscent of Chopin and Rachmaninoff and perhaps my best-known work and most popular work.

How would you characterise your compositional language?

I am a tonal composer who is comfortable in the standard structures of the Classical-Romantic era. Sonata form, Variations, ABA’, even a bit of imitation/canon and counterpoint. And I love weaving melodic and countermelodic lines together. At times one can detect a bit of folk influence, even chant or Shaker music. My style is very eclectic, and I’ve absorbed a lot of influences from the composers I most admire. One thing that was pointed out to me in graduate school, in one of my musicology classes, was that the great composers had the good taste to change things subtly when they repeated something, to keep it interesting. Think of the subtle changes in the first and last sections of the Brahms Intermezzo in A Major Op. 118 No. 2, or in the F# minor middle section, how he reversed the two parts in the 2 against 3, and then stated it chordally with imitative overlap in the top of each voice in the parallel major? Genius!

How do you work?

Sometimes I will have an idea/motif that comes to me, and I work it over and over again in my mind, eventually committing it to paper. At that point I use the Germanic approach and see what can be done with it (think of the motif from Beethoven’s 5th and how much he did with that little figure). That’s one reason I like variations and development so much—“what are the possibilities?” That’s the process I used with my Variations Op. 13 for piano, Appalachian Variations for band, and the finale of my Violin Sonata –again, variations on what sounds like a Shaker tune. However, the majority of the time I have no idea in my mind when I begin a new piece, so I sit at the piano and improvise. The trick is, at this phase, to not be too judgemental about the quality of what I’m writing, but rather to just keep writing. 90% of what’s generated in this manner will never see the light of day, but eventually I’ll have an “aha!” moment with some little motif or theme and then I begin working on it as I described above.

As a musician, what is your definition of success?

That depends. As a performer it’s to give an accurate rendition of the notes and rhythms with my own best attempt at conveying the musical intentions of the composer through my own emotional lens and stylistic knowledge. As a composer, it’s putting together something that I can be proud of for the quality of its content, that performers enjoy and appreciate the work and find it to be idiomatic, and it touches the hearts and minds of the listener.

What advice would you give to young/aspiring composers?

Don’t expect to write Beethoven’s 9th in your 20s. In fact, don’t necessarily study composition—find your own way. Listen to the music that you enjoy, see what makes it tick, imitate it if you like, and over time you will develop your own unique voice. If you’re like me, and most composers, your first things will not be great, nor all that original. But try and keep your ego in check, look at what you’ve written with clear eyes for weaknesses and strengths, and make it your goal to get better with each piece you write.

What do you feel needs to be done to grow classical music’s audiences?

Ah, now there’s the question! There is always a conservatism with audiences wanting to hear their favorite pieces: Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff. But there are always composers who push the boundaries who may not be entirely appreciated during their lifetime but whose reputation grows after their death: Berlioz, Bartók, Prokofiev, Stravinsky, Berg. It reminds me of my own personal growth as a musician. When I was a teenager, I thought that great music stopped with the death of Rachmaninoff. I didn’t like much that came after him and was not wild about Bach (too dry) and those who came before him. I chafed at Bartók, the Second Viennese School (I am still not fond of Webern and those he inspired that esconsed themselves in academia after then WWII and taught generations of composers whose music is so arid it seems to have been written on an abacus). Now we live in an era where there is no “universal,” style such as there was in the High Classical Period of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. Composers can write what they want, and all of the trends of the past are still alive. I think that music that has melody is still sought after by audiences. And some sort of structure that is discernable to the average listener helps too. Does the material heard at the opening return? If so, is it the same, or is it altered but still discernably related to what was heard before? Dissonance is relative, of course—many things formerly thought of as dissonant are now considered either less dissonant or even consonant. The whole history of Western Music has been a journey up the harmonic series. In the Middle Ages, Octaves, Unisons, Fourths and Fifths were considered “perfect consonances,” and Thirds and Sixths were considered, “imperfect consonances.” Now, the perfect consonances sound somewhat hollow to us, and we expect thirds. It’s all relative. But I don’t know that music that is all/mostly seconds or microtones will ever attract a wide audience. Nor will music that consists of pots and pans being dropped from the ceiling. Gimmicks like 4’ 33” by John Cage prove a point, I suppose, but we were talking about audiences, right? Every time I’ve experienced (not ‘heard’) a “performance” of that work there is laughter and eye-rolling, even after the professors ask the audience of students to please take the piece seriously. And then some people walk out of the “performance” anyway. Silence is a part of musical experience, certainly. Silence being the entire work is a gimmick.

What’s the one thing in the music industry we’re not talking about but you think we should be?

Provide more opportunities for composers to hear and record their works. Most are not wealthy enough to foot the bill by themselves. Competitions sponsored by orchestras or chamber music societies for composers, and along with that, select judges who are not avant-garde composers who only pick winners who sound like themselves. If it’s important to get our audience back, the selection of judges who actually keep that in mind is critical. We’re in an age where the winners of competitions are often the composers of the most outlandish works who impress composer/judges who write like them with no consideration of audiences. Then the works are premiered and disappear. Rinse, repeat, ad nauseum.

What next – where would you like to be in 10 years?

I would like to have written a number of works that have a decent chance of becoming part of the standard repertoire: Some more instrumental solos, perhaps some orchestral works, band works, and definitely some vocal music. I feel like, as a composer, I am in my prime. I just need the right projects to match my work ethic (I’ve never missed a deadline).

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

I don’t think there is such a thing. But I would settle for contentment, that I’ve done the best I could and written good music that people respond well to and want to program.

What is your most treasured possession?

My Corgi, Scooby.

What do you enjoy doing most?

Hearing/premiering and recording my newest works.

What is your present state of mind?

I’d say it’s pretty good. At 67 I’m aware that this doesn’t go on forever, so I want to use my time well while I still have it. The older I get the more I want to withdraw from the crowd and write my music and spend time with those I care about. I don’t much care for how society has devolved into tribalism and how few people have the ability (or choose) to think critically.