I love premieres.
As a composer and arranger, you would think it goes with the territory, but the truth is that developing my craft was focused so much on the work I do in my studio – selecting notes, rhythms, orchestration, voicings, etc. – that it took me years to think about the premiere as anything more than an afterthought. The work happens in the writing, I thought, and after that it’s out of my hands. How wrong I was.
The music doesn’t happen until it premieres – ideally, until it is performed in front of an audience. That is the magical moment when a piece you’ve written becomes alive.
Premieres are hard, of course. They’re tricky because they’re new: a premiere comes with no reference recording, no performance history, no one to ask about it. A premiere may well also come with an error or two, or some musical element that will be revised because it seemed wrong in performance. They’re also hard because there is often extra pressure – a composer is in the house, or awaiting the recording. There might be extra publicity, or pressure put on the performers in any number of ways.
Nevertheless, I love them. I love being part of the moment when the music comes to life. I love shepherding new music into the world, both as the writer and as the conductor. I love the excitement, and the stress, and the hand in creation.