Life
Life came into existence on July 27, 2017. I’ll spare you the details (something I’ve had to do frequently during this series), but my heart was simply broken that day. In a blundering and confused shock, I grabbed my Zoom H1 recorder, stumbled to my car, and drove a few miles to Samford’s campus. As luck would have it, Brock Recital Hall was empty. I set up my recorder, sat at the beautiful Steinway in Brock, and played.
First, I played an Eb. And then I played it again. I played that Eb for what seemed like days as my heart, mind, and soul tried to find some coherence with each other and form a musical idea to express my grief. My right hand autonomously crept up to the upper register of the piano, played an Ab Major chord and then a G minor, and took over the Eb while my left hand played some low, rumbling chords. Truthfully, I only remember what happened after that because of my recorder—praise the good Lord in heaven for giving me that foresight in a time when all I cared about was lamenting my loss.
I don’t know exactly when I realized I had something special in this recording. In fact, I almost deleted it on a few occasions in an attempt to make room for other music! But one day, a few months later, I was going through old files and stumbled upon it. I almost broke down listening through it, as all the memories of its context came flooding back. As soon as it finished, I began to take notes on what was being played when, and before long I was working furiously in Sibelius to notate the score. Immediately after finishing, I pulled a friend into a practice room and played it for him. The following week, I played it for Kathryn Fouse, my piano teacher. Then I played it for Mark Lackey, my composition teacher. Each of them said (in their own way) that they loved it but that it wasn’t complete. Dr. Lackey helped me expand on my ideas and make the piece more impactful, and Dr. Fouse helped me work out the kinks. I owe them a great debt of gratitude for what the piece has become.
The title came along almost as unconsciously as the piece itself. I had no intention of creating any sort of specific image in the listener’s mind by calling it Life, though I’ve come to enjoy and welcome any and all interpretations that listeners have had. It occurred to me after hearing a performance of this piece that its fluidity of meaning is precisely what makes it click. No one has had the same experience that I had—the experience that spawned this piece. But everyone has had profoundly impactful experiences that Life somehow helps them access—whether they be hopeful, tragic, beautiful, haunting, or all of the above. It has become a chief joy of my recent years to hear people of all types share their experiences and interpretations with me and to know that, no matter how different a person’s experience of the piece is from mine, it has moved their soul.
In the years following Life’s birth, it has received performances in several cities, including Birmingham, El Paso, Mobile, Anniston, and others, and has been performed by outstanding pianists such as Kadisha Onalbayeva and Adam Bowles. The piece received second place honors at the El Paso Society for Musicians of the Future’s worldwide 2018 OM/NI competition, and has been selected for several performances as part of the Birmingham Art Music Alliance’s Birmingham New Music Festival.
At the time I wrote Life, few things could offer me much comfort. But there are a few reassuring truths that I hold dearly which were constantly in the front of my mind during the process of creating this work. The first comes from the book of Hebrews: “My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by Him. For the Lord disciplines the one He loves, and chastises every son whom He receives.” The second, the words of Paul: “We rejoice in sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” It is because of these words that the piece’s meaning can be so fluid but also remain constant. It is a reminder of hope. A reminder that, no matter what happens to us, whatever difficulties we face, or how hopeless things might seem, we can always know that there is a saving power in which we can put our trust. There is a God, unfathomably greater than any of us, who uses the most challenging times in our lives to mold us into His image. That is the reason for suffering. That is what produces endurance, character, and hope. That is the meaning of Life.
If you’d like to purchase the score and/or audio for Life, please contact me for rates.