Composing Partnerships — a balancing act?
Posted: 05.02.09
Novelists work alone. So do painters. So why do so many composers choose to work in pairs? Rebecca Barry reports.
Finding a composer to work with is a bit like finding a mate. Most partnerships start with friendship before blossoming into something more serious. It might sound obvious but simply getting along, liking each other, is crucial. Only then can you begin to make beautiful music together.
Musical matrimony - the compromise, the shared glory, the infuriation…
While some might balk at the prospect of musical matrimony - the compromise, the shared glory, the infuriation of insisting that beat really doesn’t work with those strings - many composers, such as long-term friends Dale Sumner and Richard Bottom, prefer to collaborate. They met when Bottom moved in two doors down from Sumner, got talking while each of them had a cigarette in the garden. Six months later, impressed with each other’s music, they started co-writing new-age music.
“Richard is the only person I could imagine working with now,” says Sumner, four years on.
Likewise, Dov Waterman, a concert piano tuner by trade, met Rhett Brewer, a singer, at a party. Brewer had an organ that needed tuning and two-and-a-half years later they’re still in partnership. Jode Steele and David Wainwright (Verbal Vigilante Music) were school and university friends. Their tutor asked if they’d score a production together in York, and they enjoyed it so much they’ve worked together since. He says they don’t fight because their friendship is more important.
“If you disagree you’ve got to know when to persist,” says Steele. “I trust Dave.”
But friendship only goes so far. Many partnerships come about because one person lacks the skills the other can provide and vice versa. Sumner comes from a classical, orchestral background whereas Bottom is a rhythm and blues expert, good on the guitar. Long-term musical partners William Goodchild and Barnaby Taylor first collaborated when Taylor was writing a BBC nature documentary that required an orchestral score.
Two heads can be better than one, particularly if one composer has worked on a piece for a long time.
There are lots of advantages for the creative process too. Two heads can be better than one, particularly if one composer has worked on a piece for a long time. It’s easy to become “lost” in a composition, and hard to view it objectively. If your partnership is built on trust, hearing someone else’s opinion can save a piece of music from being overwhelmed by ego or over-familiarity.
“It’s about having another person’s ears,” says Will Johnstone, who collaborates with other musicians and composers about 50 % of the time, including a lot of work with Guy Farley (although he doesn’t strictly consider him a partner).
“After a few hours you lose perspective. Guy will come in and he might say, well this is great but this isn’t, maybe we could work more on this. Then you can go into the studio with fresh ears yourself.”
Each composer partnership employs its own unique method of madness but the majority insist the creative process is shared equally. One person might come up with the main idea, which is fleshed out by the other but most composers say they work in tandem.
“We bounce ideas off each other,” says Waterman. “One person will come up with an idea and then we’ll get together and take it from there. Sometimes it’s all thrown together while we’re sitting at the piano. Sometimes it’s a more structured idea.
You have to trust the other person’s opinion.
“We think of it like a filtering system. That’s where you need to be mature because you have to trust the other person’s opinion.”
The reasons for pairing up can also be practical. For Goodchild and Taylor, it’s often a case of getting things done quickly. For a recent job writing the music for a Channel 5 documentary, they were up against a tight schedule. So they split the cues down the middle and got the job done in half the time.
“That’s why it so important you’re stylistically comfortable with one another,” says Goodchild. “It has to be seamless for the listener and feel like one programme.”
So what happens if the seams do start to show? It’s not just rock stars who argue in the studio. Waterman admits he has a fiery temper and that he and Brewer have had their fair share of fights - but he points out that that’s not always a bad thing. Tight deadlines can be a catalyst for stressful situations - so if you can work with someone under pressure, you’re in a good position.
“We’ll have an argument or a big blow up but five minutes later it’s over. We don’t have real misunderstandings. Sometimes it’s difficult. You might like something and you’ve got your heart set on it but your partner doesn’t think it works. You have to work out if you should relinquish it, bin it or rework it with the other person. It’s down to individual personalities. To be honest, if we didn’t give each other feedback, no matter how it comes across, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”
A healthy composing partnership comes down to the same basics required to nurture a marriage
In other words, a healthy composing partnership comes down to the same basics required to nurture a marriage: honesty, clear communication, mutual respect and the ability to accept constructive criticism.
“Don’t say, ‘That’s crap!’” says Sumner. “Say, ‘This could be better’. You can’t be too precious about anything you write. In most instances I find the input from my partner guarantees we’ll end up with something better.”
He also recommends that if you’re serious about working together in the long-term, write everything down so there’s no argument over royalty payments or legalities. After all, you’ll be sharing everything you make if you decide to go 50/50.
“It also pays to have clearly designated roles,” says Johnstone, “so you’re not ‘treading on each other’s feet’, because that could spell disaster for the music and the friendship.”
Insights anyone?
Contributing Composers
Illustration by Marc Aspinall
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