WHERE WORDS FAIL, MUSIC SPEAKS
-Hans Christian Anderson-
Hi Everyone,
Today,
I'm honored to introduce you to another wonderful dreamer, composer, Douglas Buchanan.
William
Shakespeare called music the food of love.
I consider music food for my soul. And to be able to masterly arrange notes on a
page of sheet music that have the power to touch a person’s soul is in my opinion
a true gift from God.
But Douglas Buchanan does
not only compose. He inspires young musicians by teaching music theory and
composition at universities in the Baltimore area. And if that’s not enough, he
brings both old and new music to life directing and performing in various choirs.
Doug, I can’t thank you enough for sharing your
dreams and wisdom with us. Please take a moment and tell us a little about
yourself.
I'm
a musician living and working in Baltimore. For most musicians who are making
some sort of income with their art, "living and working" end up being
two points on a spectrum of musical involvement. For instance, though I'm employed
at several institutions, I am a volunteer in others. My primary job is serving
as Director of Music Ministries (Organist/Choirmaster) for historic Old St.
Paul's Episcopal Church in downtown Baltimore, where I run the volunteer parish
choir, a professional chamber choir, a parish children's choir, the St. Paul's
Boys' Choir, and oversee the Ensemble in Residence program and the annual
concert series. I also teach Music Theory and Musicology at the Peabody
Conservatory, where I'm working on my Doctorate in Composition, and I teach
Music Theory, Conducting and Composition at Towson University. However, I also
volunteer with several organizations, including singing with the Baltimore
Choral Arts Society, along with my wife, Kelly. It sounds like a pretty hectic
schedule (which I don't deny), but it's not much different than what most
musicians are doing: performing, teaching, making music for causes or groups
they believe in regardless of pay, studying. I've been fortunate in that most
of my work is musical, and that I've had family that's supported me in pursuing
music as my career (including our recently adopted puppy, who is a real boon in
helping to relieve stress).
People of
all ages have forgotten how to dream. What inspired you to dream?
My
family, as I mentioned, was extraordinarily supportive of both me and my
brother (who is also now at the Peabody Conservatory) in exploring those
creative enterprises in which we were interested. We both experimented with
violin, percussion, piano, composition, visual art, computer graphics,
animation, poetry, storytelling, singing--music (and art in general) was and is
our drug. Both our parents were, in some sense, countercultural--our mom (Carol
Adams) is a vegetarian-feminist author and animal rights activist, and our dad
(Bruce Buchanan) is a Presbyterian minister who specializes in urban ministries
and interfaith relations, overseeing The Stewpot, a homeless day shelter in
downtown Dallas, Texas. Pursuing a vision, particularly a vision in which we
deeply believed and which may not be tangible to those around us, was part and
parcel of our family life.
That
being said, teachers play an incredibly important role for inspiration. To
think about the literal meaning of the word, to "breathe in to,"
particularly to "breather life in to" someone, makes a
lot of sense when referring to the teacher's role. Teachers who stick with you
while you grow up (and here I give shoutouts to Paula and Jerry Stephens of
Garland, Texas, and Ken and Mary Jane Cooper of Dallas), teachers who give
long-shot students a chance (Roland Muzquiz, percussion director of Richardson
High School), teachers who help you achieve your goals, even if they are at
first impractical (Profs. Peter Mowrey, Bryan Dykstra, Jack Russell and Jack
Gallagher of the College of Wooster), even teachers who keep their distance and
let you grow into your own at your own pace (Prof. Michael Hersch and the late
Prof. Nicholas Maw, both of the Peabody Conservatory) are certainly integral to
a student's development.
I think the larger issue at hand is that we live in a culture that
denigrates the dream, or, at best, re-frames the dream in Lockean terms where
life and liberty are on the same grounds as the pursuit of property. This is
frequently cited amongst my liturgical colleagues in terms of the increasing
secularization of America and the "Western World" (if we can
pigeon-hole international relations into such a title). As someone who grew up
in a rather diverse area (I once noted in High School that a lunch table of me
and my friends made up four of the five major world religions, and had
important aesthetic and philosophical discussions with atheist and agnostic
friends who to this day remain essential confidants), I firmly believe that we
each must find our own path, and for some this is the secular world. So I
disagree that the "problem" is secularization--what I see at issue is
the de-liminalization of our culture. The liminal--that unformed,
unknown space-between-spaces--is where dreams and creativity live and breathe.
When boundaries become so desiccated that all that matters is the absolute
value on either side, then dreaming withers. There seems to be less and less
place for confusion, wandering, wondering and unsureness. Teachers--and I devoutly
hope that I espouse this in my classroom, and to the musicians that I
direct--therefore have the difficult task of not only inspiring the curiosity
to ask "what?", but also the vision to ask "what if?".
Helping others realize their dreams can inspire you to realize your own. I had
the phenomenal opportunity to teach piano to a mentally handicapped man named
Chris while I was in college. Chris was unfailingly cheerful and always wanted
to learn. Some lessons saw little progress, but sometimes--like when he
performed the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight sonata, from
memory, with impeccable phrasing and articulation--served to inspire me as
well.
We all
place obstacles in our path which brings our dreams to a dead stop. I call
these obstacles dream killers. What was your dream killer and how
did you overcome it?
I
wish there were only one! I have a terrible tendency of holding on to what has
been said by people whose relationships I value. I think we all do that, most
likely. I also tend to take on too many projects at once because I'm excited to
work with other people who are excited to be creative! I'm also
terribly nostalgic. And, at times I also tend to be self-deprecating and overly
critical of my own work. I don't know if I will ever overcome all of these--in
fact, I don't know if it would be good if I did. Each of these aspects has a
negative side, and a positive side (like yin and yang, the Force, or duct
tape): while I may take comments too much to heart, it means that I value other
people and will (hopefully) maintain long and mutually beneficial relationships
and friendships; taking on many projects is great in terms of networking, but
it also expands my horizons; nostalgia might prevent me from moving forward if
I indulge in it, but it means that I am emotionally invested in memory and can
draw from past experience; and being self-critical also ensures humility and,
ultimately, a deeper realization of what I want to achieve artistically. I
believe the key is not to eradicate parts of yourself, but to learn to live in
balance with them.
I
often refer to some of my childhood pop-culture experiences in my classroom,
because I believe that these are the "myths" of my generation: LEGOs
can be used to talk about building chords, warp tunnels in Super Mario Brothers
can elucidate modulation from key to key, and the music from Lord of the
Rings and Star Wars offer countless examples for
ear-training. Here, I think Stan Lee (of Marvel Comics) has it right: his
stories always demonstrate that cutting off parts of your psyche from each
other only end in harm. For the X-Men, their mutations are part of who they
are, and storylines in which characters try to escape these aspects of self
inevitably result in tragic occurrences. For Bruce Banner, his situation is not
just that he transforms into the Hulk, it is that he is "always
angry"; he must attempt to live in balance with the different aspects of
himself. As I see it, the quest of the person committed to creativity is not
extraction or extermination, but balance.
How do you
keep the dream alive under extreme adversity – external or internal?
Time
to refresh is key, and none of us gets as much as we need or deserve (in my
opinion). However, finding moments that are not just filling, but fulfilling (think
the difference between fast food and a home-cooked meal) are necessary for
long-term survival of the creative person. This is one of the reasons my wife
and I sing in Baltimore Choral Arts. Though she sings in the choirs I direct,
we relish the time that we can sing together as part of an ensemble and be
involved in participating in the music, and not necessarily be in
charge of it. I feel very lucky to be educating young people, from
children to college students. There are always questions I'm not expecting
(both on- and off-topic!) that keep my mind nimble, as well as keep me
laughing! And, while I use my creativity and dreams to help me lead ensembles,
classes, and performances, I also have to try to make time to work on projects
that might be important only to me--these are, perhaps, the most
important in the face of adversity or challenge. When my maternal grandmother
died, I worked on composing a brief setting of the Lux aeterna, from
the Roman Rite Requiem text. Though this was eventually performed (and so, in a
deliminalized world, was therefore a "success"), the true success was
in the emotional follow-through of the original vision that allowed me to
constructively and creatively deal with and access loss, love, and memory.
Someone will think your dreams are wonderful. Someone will also think your
dreams are not necessarily worthwhile. When I have time for myself, I have to
pursue (and have to keep reminding myself to pursue) those dreams
that are first and foremost important to me. These dreams--the ones with
personal meaning--are the ones that don't just fill the time, but fulfill the
time.
When you
reached the top, how did it feel?
Whenever
a dream is fulfilled or a mountaintop experience achieved, or whenever someone
connects with your work, it's wonderful--really, and truly, wonder-ful.
However, because I am inevitably nostalgic, I tend to wish to move on to the
next project to avoid the negative feeling of the loss of the moment of the
dream's realization. Again, the key is in balance: it is important to realize
our own successes, as they give us confidence and momentum, but it is also
important to love the process of dreaming, to become as invested in
the valley as in the mountaintop.
How did
realizing your dream change you?
I
think the realization of a dream can give confidence in one's self and one's
vision. Again, balancing is in integral: self-confidence can be great ("I
believe in what I am doing"), but too little can result in
self-deprecation ("I believe, but don't think I can do it") or loss
of vision ("I no longer believe in what I do"), and too much can
create egotism ("I believe what I am doing is always right, regardless of
the others or the situation"). Inevitably, realizing a dream can often
boost my self-confidence, and I have to strive to fend off egotism after the
peak as well as nostalgia or depression (not clinical, for me at least, though
this is a common phenomena for many dreamers and creators) after the initial
boost. Strive for the dream so you can realize it in your own way, but remember
that it is part of a process, and not an endpoint.
What's
next? What new dream would you like to reach for?
My
ideas all too often overlap, and while this is frustrating because there are so
few hours in the day, I hope that these dreams won't stop. So, first, I hope
that there will always be new dreams. I hope that my work inspires dreams in
others. I hope I can demonstrate a commitment to realizing a vision. I hope to
foster creative environments--whether they last for an hour in the concert
hall, or for a semester in the classroom--where people can wonder again and
connect with one another. And I hope I can be honest and balanced with myself
to pursue those dreams that fulfill me personally and inspire me to continue
the process.
Below is a link to download two movie files; one of Douglas Buchanan conducting the In Dulci Jubilo and another
of him conducting a composition of his called O Light and Universal Song.
To
listen to more of Douglas Buchanan's compositions and performances, visit his website:
http://dbcomposer.com/
Leave a comment:
I would love to hear about your dreams. Please click on the word comment below to leave me a message.
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