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Why Kindergarten Ruined Your Career

From Kindergarten onward, we’ve been programmed to picked:

  • To be chosen for the playground kickball team.
  • To get the SAT scores that’ll lead to a good college.
  • To receive the grades that will get us into our major.
  • To win the interview that’ll land a job.

For almost the first three decades of our lives, we are trained that our success depends on others choosing our résumé — whether that’s having the best portfolio among all other applicants or the fastest kickball leg in our elementary school.

So when we start seeking commissions and performances, being chosen by institutions and other people is our go-to expectation.

We expect that getting commissioned is a direct function of

  • How many prizes we’ve won
  • What schools and festivals we attended
  • How “objectively good” our music is
  • Whether we’ve impressed the right people

This. Is. NOT. TRUE.

Sure, those things help you get commissioned. But from my peers’, mentors’ and personal experience, here’s what matters far more:

  • Who are our friends and our friend’s friends?
  • What meaningful connections have we made with them?
  • How do they feel about us and our music subjectively?
  • How well we do we understand their needs and dreams?

In other words, your success at getting commissioned is a direct function of how well you nurture relationships with a wide swath of potential collaborators.

But why does this feel scary when it’s waaaay more human, meaningful, and not-weird than shoving your résumé and portfolio in someone’s face?

Look to Kindergarten. 

This is not what you’ve been trained for. You have been trained to expect that institutional approval matters more than human connections.

So if you want to get more commissions and performances, start by unlearning your Kindergarten expectations.

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Five Tips for Writing a Good Piano Accompaniment

So you’re writing a piece with piano accompaniment. You’re probably wondering, “What do I do with the piano?”

Many singers and non–keyboard-playing instrumentalists find it easy to come up with melodies, but when it comes times to create a keyboard accompaniment, they get stuck.

Even pianists themselves sometimes might feel a little overwhelmed.

Here are five tips to make it easier:

1. Embrace being in the background

At its most basic, an accompaniment creates the rhythmic and harmonic backdrop against which the melody is featured.

Like the backdrop of portrait photo, the accompaniment is meant to draw attention to the subject (i.e., the melody), not itself.

Photographers often do this by using dark backgrounds with subtle textures.

Composers create a similar effect by crafting accompaniments using short, simple patterns.

That pattern is then repeated verbatim, at least till the end of phrase. Often, it continues till the end of the song.

This may sound boring—but that’s the point. You want the listener to focus on the melody.

However intricate you end up making your accompaniment, you need first to embrace the idea that it must be at least a little boring.

2. Solve the harmony first

The most basic accompaniment pattern is half- or whole-note block chords.

Write this accompaniment to your melody first. If you know your chords, it shouldn’t take much more than five minutes to complete a rough-and-ready harmonization. (You can then spend more time tweaking the harmonies to your liking.)

Once you’ve found the right chords, pay attention to how the notes in one chord lead to those in the next. This relationship between chords is called “voice leading.”

Chord progressions sound best when each note in the harmony moves by the shortest way from one chord to the next.  

In four-part harmony, when the root of the chord moves by a fourth/fifth (e.g., C to F) or by a third (e.g., C to Am), the upper three voices can all move by step or remain the same. When the root of the chord moves by a second, the three upper voices must move in contrary motion to the bass, and one of your upper voices will leap down a third.

No matter how elaborate, every accompaniment implies chord-to-chord relationships like these. Even the the most intricate arpeggiations sound best when their notes move the shortest way from one chord to the next.

3. Know your options

The same way that accompaniments are inevitably a little boring, devising an accompaniment pattern is not a complex task. You don’t need to overthink this.

Most accompaniment patterns are either half a bar or one full bar long.

Each unit of the pattern presents a single harmony, and, absent a compelling artistic reason, the contour of this presentation remains constant.

Below are some common patterns:

You don’t have to reinvent the wheel. You can just use these.

If you want further ideas, it is not plagiarism or “unoriginal” to borrow other composers’ accompaniment patterns. Some great sources for patterns include Chopin’s Nocturnes, Schubert’s song cycles, and Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words. 

Contemporary song books of show tunes, pop standards, holiday songs, etc. will also have great accompaniment patterns you can lift and reuse in your music.

4. Change at the right time

Although many songs get by with a single accompaniment pattern, you will often want to mix things up.

If you constantly change the accompaniment pattern or change it when you happen to get bored, you will draw attention away from the melody in a negative way.

The musical effect will be similar to watching a couple argue in public or seeing a piece of scenery fall down accidentally in the middle of a play.

There are three key places accompaniment changes are welcome:

  1. At the cadence of a phrase
  2. At the start of a new phrase
  3. Aligned with an meaningful word in the middle of a phrase

But remember, just because you can change accompaniment here doesn’t mean you should. Generally speaking, if the melody repeats from one phrase to the next, so should the accompaniment.

For instance, in a pop song, you would keep the accompaniment the same for the entire verse, then (if you want) you can change it at the chorus. But once you go back to the verse, you will go back to that original accompaniment.

Likewise, in a 32-bar AABA melody, you would keep the accompaniment the same for the first 16 bars, then (if you want) change it for the B-section, before returning to the original accompaniment for the final 8 bars. 

5. Build on the basics

Once you can confidently execute these basics, you can begin to more your accompaniments more elaborate. Some common elaborations include:

  • Incorporating harmonic breaks and turnarounds
  • Using melodic motives to enrich the texture
  • Adding countermelodies
  • Writing intros and interludes
  • Creating more interaction with the melody
  • etc.

Together, these additional tricks will add richness and nuance to your accompaniments.

But if you aren’t there yet, don’t worry. Again, accompaniments are meant to be the background — and if you follow the first four tips, the real star of your arrangement, your melody, will shine through clearly.

Happy composing!

👉 Which of these tips are most helpful for you? Which do you want to hear more of? Let me know in the comments below or email me at joseph@josephsowa.com. I’d love to hear from you!

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Farmers Beat Composers at this One Thing

If you’re like most composers, when you sit down at your desk or think about what you’re going to work on tomorrow, you probably think some variation of “It’s time to compose!”

You may get a little more specific, like “I need to write this passage” or “that movement” or “this cue.”

But generally that’s where it stops.

You leave it to your intuition to fill in the blanks of “what do I do next?”

Sometimes that works fine, but too often it leads us into an unnecessary panic of “Wait! I don’t actually know what I’m doing!”

Why farmers work smarter than composers

Consider the farmer.

They don’t wake up and say, “It’s time to farm!”

Even to those of us with minimal manual labor experience, that sounds silly.

Instead, the farmer has a clear routine:

  • Feed the pigs
  • Milk the cow
  • Let the chickens out of the coop
  • etc.

These are specific tasks.

They wake up. They know exactly what they have to do. They go do it.

They may be tired or have personal concerns, but they have no stress or worry over “What should I do next?”

But too often as composers, in our quest for originality and relevance, we grossly underplay just how repetitive our work actually is.

What composers can learn from farmers

👉 Here’s the secret: naming your composing tasks makes creativity easier and more fun.

Yes, I recognize that composing is a creative process.

True, this means that your work rarely comes in the order of “A, B, C, D, E, . . .” but more often looks like “11, C, 2, 3, D, E, X, 8, 4, nine, . . .”

But just because the ordering of these tasks is often nonlinear does not mean that the tasks themselves are not discrete and definable.

The composition equivalent to farm chores would be things like:

  • Draft this 8-bar melody
  • Devise 3 or 4 ways to harmonize it, then pick one
  • Brainstorm several different ways of arranging it for the ensemble
  • Execute that arrangement
  • etc.

Because of mental simulation, when you can identify what you’re trying to do, it makes it so much easier for your intuition/your inspiration/the muse/whatever-you-want-to-call it to do its work.

So here is my invitation to you today:

  1. List out the composing tasks you know how to do.
  2. When it comes time to compose, identify 1–3 specific tasks you want to accomplish

Again, having these tasks does not mean you must work rigidly or robotically.

But it will help you work smart, like the farmer, and not constantly second-guess yourself.

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The Bell Curve Lies about Your Impact

As creators, whenever we share what matters to us, especially what we create, we feel vulnerable. Here’s a key principle that can help soften the blow.

Whatever you share will receive a spectrum of responses — it's a classic bell curve.

This bell curve lies about the worth of your work.

Or, rather, if you misunderstand the bell curve, you will believe two big, disheartening lies rather than the one key, empowering truth.

Lie no. 1: Your work doesn’t matter because most people don’t care

At a glance, this is who you will see:

  • Most people will do little or nothing about it (the Spectators).
  • A slightly smaller group will acknowledge it but push it away, often passive-aggressively (the Evaders).
  • An even smaller minority will hate and criticize it (the Unbelievers).

Taken together, that’s most of the people.

But REMEMBER: they are not the real audience for what you create. Rather —

  • Another smaller group looks forward to everything you share (the Fans)
  • And an even more select group doesn’t just relish your work, but supports and promotes it (the Advocates)

THESE people — your Fans and Advocates — are those for whom you create.

As your audience grows, this bell curve grows along with it.

Lie no. 2: You can escape the bell curve

REMEMBER: as your audience grows, the bell curve grows along with it.

So even if your work becomes well-known, your Fans and Advocates will always be in the minority of the people who know about it.

No matter how big you are, if you survey your work’s aggregate response, it will always feel like your work is being ignored or even opposed.

With the scales eternally tipped toward apathetic-to-negative, it’s tempting to feel like your Fans and Advocates don’t count.

Truth: Your Fans and Advocates are hungry for your work

So most of all, REMEMBER: Your work is NOT up for popular vote.

You KNOW your Fans and Advocates treasure your work.

So shun the Unbelievers. Slough the Evaders. Ignore the inaction of the Spectators.

You only need to worry about how well you serve your Fans and Advocates.

Because, as Seth Godin says, they will miss you when you’re gone.

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Own Your Voice: Workshop Replay (8/31/21)

In the above replay, we discuss:

  • How Artistic Voice is bigger than “style” or “technique”
  • The four parts of an Artistic Voice — “The Chorale of the Empowered Composer”
    • Stories (the “Soprano”)
    • Process (the “Alto”)
    • Technique (the “Tenor”)
    • Relationships (the “Bass”)
  • The typical reasons composers do NOT own their voice, but rather hide . . .
    • The “Frustrated Visionary” Composer
    • The “Lost in the Wilderness” Composer
    • The “Self-Censoring” Composer
    • The “Self-Sabotaging” Composer
  • Key Takeaways
  • The Career Success Spell Book (see below)
  • Q+A

How Can I Make the Career of My Dreams?

Let’s face it: music school focuses a TON on how to write music, but very little on how to make a career with your compositions. The 1-Day “Career Success Spell Book” Intensive Workshop is here to fix that. Click below to learn more about how you can have the career of your dreams.

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