What Also Inspires Me

I’m inspired by places I’ve been (Once is Not Enough) and the journey itself (The Long Ride Home.)

I’m inspired by composers (From Mozart to Me, LVB-Bop, Waltz, Anniversary Waltz, Jaggedy Rag, Dizzy ‘N Groovy. . .)

I’m inspired by musicians (Just One Note, le tour de Jack, 5/4/3/2/1, Spring, My Knee Mo’, The Right to Swing, Let’s Try it a Second Time. . .)

I’ve written music for birthdays (Lullaby) and anniversaries (Anniversary Waltz.)

Words can set me off (Egg, Chips (and Beans), Fre(n)ch Frei Fugue.)

I’ve dedicated music to students (Blues for Kathryn) and teachers (Biddle Liddle.)

My music can be scary (Haunted) exciting (Thrill Ride) or soothing (Peace.)

I’ve written in order to learn something new (Midnight at Monteton) and about things I already know (I Know.)

And, of course, I write about love (Moved with Love, Romance, If You Only Knew, Delaney’s Song, Just Like That, At Home, 40’s Love Song. . .)


I’m not done writing yet. I can make something special for you (Call Me.)

What Inspires Me

I’ve been inspired by artists (The Artist) musicians (B-3 Blues) composers (Sailing with Ludwig) interior designers (I’ve Got Designs On You) trains (Listen Up) bicycles (Cultural Trail Theme) the weather (One-O-Four) the seasons (Leaf Movement) and months (Rocktober.)

I’ve written about hope (The Light at the End of the Blues) and despair (Unspoken.)

I’ve been inspired by people’s names (Wise Guy) what they wear (Deux Chapeaux) and what they say (Lip Service.)

I’ve written music for beginnings (The One I Love) middles (Interlude) and endings (A Song in the Key of DAVE.)

My music can be a little sweet (A Little Sweet) or really mean (A Really Mean Boogie-Woogie.) Or a bit of both (Bittersweet.)

I’ve been inspired by family (Daddy’s Kind of Rock) friends (Still Something to Say) and people who anger me (What Might Have Been.)

I’ve written music to cheer myself up (Lemonade) and to cheer up a friend (Squeeze the Cheese.)

I can do tongue-in-cheek (Seriously Blue) lighthearted (Jaggedy Rag) and laugh-aloud funny (Sumthin’ Funky.)

I’ve written about searching (Searching) and finding (I Got It.)


I’m not done writing yet. I can make something special for you (Call Me.)

Creating the Cultural Trail Theme

The first thing I imagined, when asked to write a piece for the dedication of the Indianapolis Cultural Trail (ICT), was a “fiddler in the street.” Perhaps because my friend Dean Franke (Assistant Concertmaster of the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra) is such a willing and able participant for any wild thing I dream up. I couldn’t decide if he should be on a rooftop (that’s been done) or in a tree, or actually on the trail. I began working on ideas that were positive, jazzy and energetic (words that Brian Payne, founder/leader of the ICT, used to describe the mood he was looking for.) And I promised Brian I would find a way to incorporate a bicycle into the piece.

When writing, it’s good to just write, without analyzing what you are doing. Get it all out before you look at the whole picture. I had fun adding clarinet, trumpet and saxophones, and a cool, contrapuntal bluesy section developed from the main theme. But when I stepped back, I was uncomfortably disappointed. After all that work, I didn’t want to admit I was wrong. But I was wrong. Instead of upbeat, the piece came off silly, like something King Louie might have danced to in “The Jungle Book.”

Back to square one, I considered a sketch I had written just after a meeting with Brian, which, at the time of writing, I didn’t think would work. When I teach composition classes at Anderson University, we discuss ways to create mood and feel. Armed with Brian’s words, it would seem that using a major, happy key and creating a melody that traveled upward in pitch would be the best bet. I found it interesting that in the case of the Cultural Trail Theme, I ended up with more satisfying results by doing the opposite of what music theory tells me should work. The piece is in a minor key, and the melody is based on a descending line. Who knew!

Besides getting the main melody right, I had other hopes and goals for the piece. I hoped that I could write something with the right mix of complexity (to keep myself engaged during the writing process and to help the piece remain intriguing after multiple listenings) and simplicity (so that I can whistle it when someone asks me how it goes.) I hoped that it would work to have different sections in the piece sort of match up with various activities on the trail (walking, running, and gliding on a bike.) I hoped that I would be happy with the end product, and also, hoped that the other players and audience would enjoy it.

As the piece evolved, my ideas for instrumentation evolved and changed. When I finally had the bike puzzle figured out, I asked Jack Brennan, an ISO percussionist, if he would demonstrate some instruments, so that I could choose ones that would match the sounds I was making with the bike parts. He invited me backstage before a rehearsal and went around hitting and shaking each of their hundreds of objects until I found the right match (a guiro for the wheel ratchet and vibes for the handlebars.) Freshly inspired, I wrote the percussion parts later that evening.

I ended up writing the piece for 12 instruments – trumpet, sax quartet, vibes, congas, guiro, piano, bass, drums, and “cycla-phone”(what I dubbed the “instrument” made of bike parts) - and assembling the best team I could ever ask for to perform at the premiere.

• The Intro and Main theme – With the idea of “building” in mind, the piece begins with percussion (using bike parts and some “legitimate” percussive instruments.) Horns are added one by one, building excitement toward the main theme. With elements of a fanfare, the main theme is introduced by the trumpet and answered back by a saxophone quartet.
• B section – It has an unusual meter of 5/4, which gives the phrases more length. I was envisioning a bike race – not the beginning of the race, but later in the race when the bikers seem to be gliding. I actually studied a youtube video of a bike race while having this section playing in the background, to make sure it was a good fit. The section features long tones and rich harmonies in the saxophone section.
• Jazz interpretation of Main theme – A variation of the main theme returns, but this time it is tighter, brighter, quicker and jazzier, with the horns taking turns improvising on the theme.

Even though the piece took over two years to write, I try not to think of my mistakes as a waste of time. They are part of the journey. They help me understand what I don’t like, so that when the right thing hits me, it is obvious.

Watch the World Premiere- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OE0q4wG5y8

By the way, I wrote “A Little Sweet” for Dean Franke, to make up for booting him out of this piece. Watch his Feb. 14 performance with Ingrid Bellman . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fxcu5jdDm7U

A Grammy For Me, World Peace For All

Ever since I can remember, I’ve watched award shows, and dreamt of being there, hearing my name called and humbly accepting whichever one they offered me. Oscar, Tony, Emmy, or Grammy – I pictured the clothes I would wear, and imagined the speech I would give (no script, off the cuff, yet very moving.)

I’ve been writing music for over 15 years now, and haven’t put out a CD since 2007. It’s not that I stopped writing. I’ve just shifted my focus. Rather than concentrate on making great music, I’ve been studying people who have won Grammys and analyzed their speeches and followed their Twitter feeds. So now, I really feel strongly that I will not only be a contender, but that I can win the Grammy this time around.

I will be releasing my new soon-to-be award-winning CD in just a few months. I would give you a little sample of the tracks, but that would take some time away from my Grammy campaign. Just know that the new tunes are amazing – and please vote for me!

People have asked about the recording process and what it was like to work with some fabulous musicians in Indianapolis. Believe me, there are some great jazz players in this town. And I look forward to having them join me at the studio just as soon as I get the tunes down on paper that are spinning around in my head.

At parties, friends say to me, “Let’s hear one of your new songs!” And I say, “Oh, you’ll hear them alright, just as soon as I win that Grammy!” This gets them so excited! “Wow, you’re up for a Grammy? That is amazing! Can I go with you? What are you going to wear!!!”

The songs that have almost formulated in my mind are absolute hits, you just wait and see!

In this day and age of social media and networking, I’m sure everyone who reads this knows someone who knows someone that is a Grammy voter. So, please spread the word. Vote for Becky Archibald! Feel free to direct your friends to my website at www.beckyarchibald.com. Everything they need to know about my music is either there or going to be posted there as soon as I win!

Music is universal. It crosses all boundaries and connects and comforts us. I really believe that the music I will soon create can help guide us toward a more peaceful planet.

Thanks in advance for your vote. And please send me some love (in the way of cash) so I can buy this fabulous dress I have my eye on. When I win, I need to look the part!

Peace,
--Becky

Are You My Audience?

People often ask me, “Who is your audience?” I guess if you are reading this, you are who they inquire of. So, please tell me a little about yourself, so that I can pass it on to the next person who asks.

I ran into a friend who I hadn’t seen in years. She said, “You have no idea how much your stories mean to people. Please keep them coming!” So one answer, when asked the question, “who is your audience?” could be, “I’ve been told that I have no idea.”

Not only am I supposed to know my audience intimately, I am expected to be able to sum up who they (as in, you) are within 15 seconds. Even if I tried to describe the personality of one of my friends/audience members, I would have trouble doing it in 15 seconds.

“Well, this one guy that often shows up at my concerts always has a great big smile on his face. He has an accent but I can’t quite tell what country he is from. He brings a different person with him each time, so maybe he likes to expose his friends to. . .”

Oops, I ran out of time.

But hopefully this gives you a broad picture of who my audience is (that is, if I have an audience of one) (but hopefully not) (I mean, one plus a friend of his) (whom I know absolutely nothing about.)

I learned awhile back never to say, when asked the “who is your audience” question: “EVERYONE!! People of all ages, hairstyles and musical preferences have promised to attend one of my concerts someday and/or read my stories!” That would be like, when filling out a list of skills on a job application, saying: “EVERYTHING!! I have proven skills in every area of every type of work known (or yet to be known) to man!

Specifically, people want to know who my music-listening audience is, as opposed to my blog-reading audience. And of the music I’ve written, who is my solo piano audience vs. my chamber music audience vs. my jazz audience. And of the jazz, who is my bebop-listening audience vs. my blues audience vs. my fusion audience vs. my funky audience vs. my in-the-style-of-Monk audience.

It may be wiser of me to generalize my audience rather than pinpoint specific food allergies or personality traits, so that no matter who is reading this can see themselves clearly, such as:

“My audience is very hip, witty, youthful, attractive, brilliant, sarcastic, INFJ, ESTP, and generous (but never to a fault.) They are loved and admired by each person they come in contact with.

Yep, that’s it, that’s the one. Plus, I can say it in less than 15 seconds.

Becky Archibald

P.S. Important note to my audience: Be watching. . .my new jazz CD. . .coming soon!

The ISO Has Made My Life Wonderful

I feel like I’m watching Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life. Everyone’s talking about how the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra is being forced to jump off the bridge – from their current status as full-time orchestra, to some sort of shadow of their former selves, as part-timers. And then I wonder – what would it be like if the ISO never existed?

From my personal experience as a pianist and a composer, it’s hard to say where I would be without the encouragement early on from many of my ISO friends. Fresh from receiving my master’s degree in piano performance in 1990, I moved back to Indiana and began teaching at the University of Indianapolis. After a few years of talking about composers in my music appreciation classes, I inadvertently became a composer. At first, I was writing and performing piano music, but eventually, I started writing for other instruments. When I finished my first string quartet, Michael Schelle, Professor of Composition at Butler University, suggested I show it to some musicians in the ISO who champion new music. I made a cold call to Ingrid Bellman (cellist) who said she would be happy to read through the piece. She rounded up a quartet, which included Dean Franke, assistant concertmaster. They asked me to meet them at the Hilbert Theater during their break so that they could play it in front of me. It was an incredible deal, having such fabulous musicians play my music. Hearing the music come to life, and hearing their encouraging words about my work, gave me the inspiration to keep doing what I was doing, keep writing. The piece was one of the winners in a regional chamber music competition, and received a live radio performance on NPR in Nashville, TN.

One spring day, I was inspired to write a cello/piano duet that I titled “Spring.” I made a “warm” call to Ingrid this time, and she asked me to drop off the piece at her house. She called the next day, but I wasn’t home. This was at least 8 years ago, and still today, I have Ingrid’s message from that day saved on my answering machine. She so passionately talked about the piece and why it resonated so much with her. When she came to my house to rehearse, I was so moved by her performance (and so was my hardwood floor, which vibrated its approval when she played.) Ingrid suggested I write more music of the seasons, so I ended up writing a suite called “Seasons” for cello and piano. Through the ISO’s education program, Ingrid and I have played these duets many times and worked with hundreds of children. ( I was the first composer that the ISO brought on as a partner artist.)

Of course, Ingrid introduced me to her husband, David (principal clarinet) who played the first clarinet piece that I wrote, a trio for clarinet, French horn and piano titled “I Know.” He and Rick Graef (French horn) recorded the piece with me and really made it their own. When I asked Marvin Perry (principal trumpet) to play a new trumpet/piano duet with me, he not only made it sound incredible, he also helped me with a compositional decision. I knew a particular section needed the trumpet to be muted, but I didn’t know which mute to use. He said something like, “come on over, I have 14 of them.”

When I started writing jazz, I met more ISO musicians who I found out were interested in playing jazz (and who were quite good at it.) Having my jazzy friends Jim and P.J., along with Ju-Fang Liu (principal bass) Dean Franke and Mark Ortwein (bassoon, bass clarinet, saxophone) in my home to play my new tunes and improvise together was so exciting, and again, their encouragement inspired me to continue writing.

I could have written about how much I have enjoyed listening to ISO performances over the years, and how important music is to the community, and what a treasure we have to hear musicians of this caliber come together week after week for amazing performances. I could have talked about how much we need to support the arts, because if we don’t have art and music and artistic expression, we don’t have life. I could have talked about the hundreds of thousands of children the musicians in the ISO have encouraged and inspired through their teaching and performing. But instead, I wanted to share some of my personal experiences with members of the ISO. Passionate, brilliant, funny, generous and kind people who have come in and out of my life and my living room to play with me and encourage my growth as a musician and composer. Incredible musicians who love and are inspired by the music of the masters, but also believe in the importance of the creation of new music.

This is what the ISO has meant to me, and I am just one person. I have to wonder how many stories are out there, and what the impact looks like when you multiply it by the thousands of people who are not only audience members, but people who connect to the symphony in so many other ways.

At the end of the Jimmy Stewart movie, when he thinks all hope is lost, the whole town shows up with donations. Here’s hoping that before it’s too late, we find a way to save the ISO.

Becky Archibald
September 9, 2012

In a Different Room (But Maybe Not an Empty Room)

This morning, I was flipping through a forgettable magazine that comes free with the newspaper, and came upon a story about a student who was in trouble at school, and made to sit alone in a different room. The student began to dance and, well, they didn’t really give any details or tell much of the story or say who it was, but supposedly the student found her calling and because a famous choreographer. Not a well-told story, but it did get me thinking. . .

A few years ago, I spent the night at a friend’s lake house, all by myself. My family and her family had been there the night before, but since I had a performance nearby the next day, and everyone else had to get back home, it made sense for me to stay – and believe me, I was SO looking forward to it. I had hoped to take a nice walk around the lake after saying our good-byes, but it was cold and rainy. So I went back inside and . . . looked around . . . and it dawned on me . . . there is no piano here! I don’t know what to do with myself without a piano. At home, I can’t wait for everyone to leave the house so that I can sit at the keys for hours, writing, practicing and studying. But what do I do when I am left in a different room, really alone??

I bet you are thinking that I will say I started writing poetry and wrote the piece that caught the eye of an important publisher and launched my career as a poet. Or that I found some art supplies and an umbrella, and painted a beautiful lake scene during the storm, which went on to win prizes and launched my career as a landscape artist. But, neither of these things happened. What did happen is rather embarrassing to admit. We don’t have cable TV at home. We don’t have a large TV screen. We don’t have a satellite dish. The lake house had all of these items. I ended up flipping channels for hours, finding nothing on, until settling into the classic film, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” (which was actually pretty good.)

What I experienced at home last week was luckily quite different. My son was away for a week doing volunteer work. My daughter had just started day camp. I had my first taste of real freedom and aloneness in about a year and a half. It was so . . .different. It took me awhile to find myself again. I was writing words and writing music, maybe not my best, but I was remembering and experiencing the bliss of just doing it. In a few days, I noticed some improvement, especially in the music. One morning, I spent what seemed like hours (because it was) just trying to find the right tempo for a section I was working on. It seemed perfect until I put on headphones and listened while walking. The problem was that I meant to write something that I could walk to – but the pace was too slow. When I re-taped at the right walking speed, the melody sounded too rushed. Oh no! I kept adjusting until I could make a clear decision, and luckily, I didn’t have to rewrite the whole thing. I was happily obsessing over the minute details of composition! Yeah, I had found my calling again!

So, back to the bad student-turned-dancer. I agree that one can get closer to finding their calling when they are alone. But one also needs the right tools to experiment with when they are in that different room. Or not necessarily the “right” tools, but at least a reasonable facsimile. The student had a dance floor. I kind of need a piano. (Or at least a tape recorder to sing into. Or some pots and pans to bang on. And some manuscript paper and a pencil. . .) And no one can find their calling with a TV remote (except maybe Loren Michaels or Steven Speilberg or Jerry Seinfeld or Taylor Archibald or. . .)

--Becky
June 26, 2012