William Shakespeare is celebrated less for creating original stories – many of his best plays were adaptations of earlier works – than for the piercing language he used to tell the stories. The specific scenes, interactions, and dialogue he used are what make him the most celebrate English-language author.
I am interested less in the story you tell than in the artistry you use to tell it. Literary theorists tell us that about 10 plot lines account for a large percentage of the stories told, but the details are what makes stories compelling. The tiny choices the author makes are what make the story.
It’s the same with arranging. Whether you are composing or arranging (and there is, I think, much less differences than most people think), the artistry comes in the notes and rhythms you select. The form you use to frame the music. As you begin thinking about a piece, it’s incredibly important to start by asking the story you want to tell with your setting. “Why another arrangement of Silent Night?” Why use this instrumentation instead of that one? Why, why, why?
Those “why” questions should inform every detailed choice you make. And when it’s done, those questions should be self-apparent in the score. In the same way that a great performance of Julius Caesar tells you as much about Shakespeare and the story he wanted to tell as it does about the ancient Roman general.
It’s not about telling a new story; it’s about telling familiar story in a compelling and personal way.
My recent arrangement of “What’ll I Do?” doesn’t break new ground harmonically, it uses familiar SATB a cappella structures, and it uses as its source a song that’s nearly a century old. But if you read it and listen to it, you’ll hopefully understand some of my goals:
- a guileless arrangement, with rich but never forced harmonies.
- an arrangement that makes sense and seems accessible to choral people who don’t regularly interact with vocal jazz.
- a premium on voice leading that makes sense and reads down smoothly.
I didn’t reinvent the wheel, create a new story. But I’m pleased with the telling of this story.