Someone wrote to chide me for pretending that Elliott Carter has more influence in the new-music world than he currently has. And then today I got a message from a teenaged composer:
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I’ll never forget when at a summer camp a
distinguished guest composer came in to give us
composers a lesson, and she informed me that my
music “lacked that Elliot Carter mentality” and I
ought to listen to his entire repertoire again
before writing another piece.
AAAARRRRGHHHHHHH CHOKE HACK SPIT GULP SKKKKKKKKKH GAG NNNNNNGHHH VOMIT NYANG NYANG NYANG OUCH I CAN’T TAKE IT URRRRRRRRRRGG RETCH RETCH HHMMMMMMM (inhale) AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH.
(In case it’s not obvious, the above scenario would have been equally repellent no matter what the name, whether it was “lacked that La Monte Young mentality” or John Cage or Beethoven or Kyle Gann. Nothing has disillusioned me more than the amount of slavish conformity found among people who call themselves composers.)