The role of the composer
The compositional process is as varied as the composers who engage in it. A hundred composers could describe their individual process and all of them could be different. In spite of this spread, there is a single set of tools and typical work flows. It’s important to discuss the technology in relation to the music though, and so a composer simply had to be involved with the preparation of this text. Zbyněk Matějů is a Czech composer who works in a variety of styles and is the ideal bridge between the musical and technical world because of his meaningful approach to composition and his hesitance to rely on tech to achieve the end results.
It is important that you get to know Zbyněk and hear his story because he has lived a colorful life in the musical world with a career slowly growing in Europe during communism after WWII and has continued for many decades across the globe. In his own words he describes his career and compositional process, with poignant insight into the relationship between sound, technology, and musical art. He originally wrote the following section in Czech which was translated into English which presented a unique challenge in communicating some fairly significant artist ideas but received his stamp of approval. More importantly, his influence is throughout the entire book and has affected the approach to explaining the tools to keep the focus on fulfilling the vision of the music. In many ways his contribution is akin to that of the frame around a beautiful painting in a museum. It shouldn’t be overlooked and instead helps the viewer focus their attention on the art, while also making the art possible through structure and protection. The effect of the frame cannot be overstated.
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My career began somewhat unconventionally – I was expelled from the Elementary Art School (state institution) for lack of talent. I was repulsed by the mindless piano exercises at the age of eight and preferred to improvise and play back my own ideas, sometimes variations on the compulsory piano etudes. I began to study piano privately with a professor who understood my desire and knew that if I’d continue studying music that I wouldn’t be a concert pianist.
Sometime around the age of 15 I won a Czech Radio broadcast competition for young novice composers with a song for soprano and piano. While studying at the grammar school (natural science) in Rychnov n.Kn. I commuted to Prague for private composition lessons with Dr. J. Feld. It was still far from clear whether I would pursue music professionally or whether I would follow my father’s footsteps at the Medical Faculty of Charles University. He was a pediatrician and my family anticipated I would seek a medical education. I also considered studying aircraft design at the Czech Technical University.
After graduating from high school, I finally decided to “take the risk” to study composition, which lasted three years at the conservatory level and five years at the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague (HAMU.) After finishing at HAMU, I had problems with the Communist regime and could not find a solid job. Thanks to my filmmaker friends I was able to compose film music and the very first film was awarded the Intervision Award which led to more opportunities. I returned to HAMU when the political shift in 1989 allowed it, and completed a three-year internship at the Department of Theory under the leadership of Dr. Karl Risinger (then equivalent to the current PhD). After completing my studies, I decided not to stay in academia where there were many former leaders of the communist regime and decided to risk things as a freelance composer.
From the beginning I have been very close to music theater and film, but not concert music. While studying I wrote a lot of concert music, mostly for my fellow instrumentalists. It was harder to get into the theatrical forms, but at school I was aware that I would like to pursue musical theater. I was approached by a student of choreography, Marcela Benoniová, for whom I composed a short ballet called Phobia for three trumpets, piano and drums. The premiere took place in Nyon, Switzerland and in Prague. At that time (1982) it was a very successful performance and I started to work with more choreographers: Jan Hartman – Vila Dei Misteri (fl. Vl.vla, piano) – prem. Brooklyn Dance Th., and M. Benoni – Pierot (solo harp and two dancers.)
In 1973 I saw Jaromil Jireš’s film “Valerie and the Week of Wonders” with fantastic music by Luboš Fišer and I decided to write a ballet using the same model. Upon completion I boldly called Pavel Šmok, who at that time was probably the best choreographer who hadn’t emigrated. To my surprise Pavel Šmok did not throw me out and during the very same evening when I showed him the libretto and score, he began to think about how to bring it to life. Due to the fact that it was too big of a cast for his “Prague Chamber Ballet,” he devised a strategy to get the work into the most prominent theater in Prague. It never happened because neither Pavel nor I had a chance at that time against the communist authors but I was eventually able to collaborate with him after the Velvet Revolution with the Golem Ballet staged by the Prague State Opera.
During the totalitarian regime I was approached by director and screenwriter Jiří Středa and I wrote the full-length chamber opera “Anička Skřítek a slaměný Hubert,” which is based on a work by Vítězslav Nezval. We applied for a grant from the Music Fund, but we were told that the work was bad, too abstract, and unsuitable for children. We decided to fight for it and finance everything ourselves. The work was presented by the Theater of Diversity in the city of Most, and the opera became very popular being performed about two hundred times. It was later screened in Poland at the Groteska Theater in Krakow. There are ten instruments used in the opera and the singers have speaking parts in addition to singing. We used a backing track for the Diversity Theater performances, with instrumental parts we recorded in a rented radio studio. After this experience I never applied for additional grants because the distribution of money was skewed towards various interest groups of the Communist authors, of which group I definitely did not belong.
During my studies at HAMU, I caused some “academic” problems by not communicating enough with the department about performing my compositions outside the school. At that time, we had a school in the Rudolfinum, which is the seat of the Czech Philharmonic. The head of the department noticed a poster on the way to school, where I had a cello sonata as part of the chamber concerts of the Czech Philharmonic. I was supposed to inform the school about my activities, but when I submitted the song and won second prize, the school learned of this from public statements. I didn’t understand why I had to report everything, and so I didn’t do it. The Music Fund scholarship I got in the 1980s was only symbolic, but it allowed me to choose a mentor. To the dissatisfaction of the fund management, I arranged for myself to study with Svatopluk Havelka. He was not a favorite of the regime and several of his works were banned by the Communist party, but I highly respected his compositions and especially his film music. We understood each other very well and remained close friends until his death.
I had a similar relationship with the legendary artist Adolf Born, whom I met working on the animated opera “About the Tap Who Sang at the Opera.” For me it was a dream collaboration with a trio of legendary filmmakers: director Doubrava, screenwriter Macourek and artist Born. I was given the script and total freedom regarding the casting of the orchestra and the deadline for submitting the work. As soon as I finished everything, I called the production and we recorded the music and singers and then animation started. At the time, I decided to cast singers with pop music experience and force them into something far outside of their comfort zone. It was interesting to see that pop music singers approached the work much more responsibly than opera singers. A great inspiration for me was meeting with legendary director Jan Švankmajer while working on his film Faust. Sadly, my task was only to prepare musical cuts for the operatic films. Since the death of his “court composer” Zdeněk Liška, Švankmajer has mostly used archival music. I have been working with his lifelong collaborator (sound master) for many years, more recently on the animated claymation bedtime story “Earthworms.”
In my work I try to be open to all styles, genres and technologies although, for some reason, I find it natural to work with film. I think the restrictions from the previous regime blocking me from having a different career allowed me to do more work for film, where I was able to try various things within different genres and styles. I used different technologies, different instrumentation, and different sonic experimentations with music; and all of this was useful in the composition of concert music. Only once did I cause friction when I brought my synthesizer to the recording studio, with the intention that after recording my film score with the orchestra I would add more sounds to the recording. An American co-producer representative strictly refused the synthesizer, saying that I have a large symphony orchestra and they did not want to “destroy it with chemical sounds.” For the film I was forced to write modern jazz interpreted by professional jazz players. It was a series about Dracula’s brother-in-law, where I had the symphony orchestra with a pop singer and a howling dog in 3/4 time. I even added the sound of a storm to the mix. The picture was edited kaleidosopically with the finished music and the result was very impr...