... The Moments of Greatest Productivity

It is a difficult question, and a very subjective matter.

As for me, given my level, I do not consider myself a composer in full standing,

it seems that I am more "prolific" during and after periods of greater suffering (I am talking about real

suffering, physical and mental), a sort of "sublimation" of the psychophysical state occurs

and everything (like practically everyone) is transposed into music.

Last year, during the summer period (which for me does not automatically mean feeling better; on the contrary,

toward April/May, I have always lived through transitory periods of prolonged anxious states, even

if I have always been predisposed to this) I wrote (for the first time, I would say) some "open"

pieces; by this term I mean pieces less gloomy than usual, more linear, fluid, and this is

starting to mean that something is unlocking within me, but every minimal change brings

internal devastation, and even if I know myself well on this side,

it is quite impressive to live through them; I will never get used to it, and one should not

get used to being in such a state.

Anyway, I can add that some "prolific" moments are those in which

I do many things during the day (multitasking, in practice); furthermore, I am engaged in more things,

concentration seems greater (which is usually

equal to zero) and consistency (which I have never had), then there are also entire days spent checking

something, which usually (lately) results in one or two days of "work."

I go mostly by feeling (unfortunately); I go from a moment where I feel

good (which for me is relative, never absolute) to another where I am too nervous

and stressed.

Thank you for sharing your experience, I have noticed that I am a bit more productive in moments of absolute serenity... if I have any problems (especially emotional ones), I am inclined to almost not write at all.

... sometimes I almost feel like worrying...

There is something (saying there is nothing already means nothing in itself) to worry about (which is not the same as "not thinking about it," I want to make that clear).

Over the years I have lived through devastating crises, and I am not joking—clarifying that the emotion is such even when it seems like one isn't feeling anything particular or strong, so I could be thinking of indifference, coldness, frost, repulsion, and many other facets. A few years ago I experienced perhaps the worst: listening to music that usually conveys a great deal to me, I felt extremely cold; I didn't recognize myself, I was truly afraid of having lost the faculty to feel emotion (as I had always done) towards that music. This applies both to Bach and contemporary music (for which I also felt anger and repulsion at times, when unlike usual it infuses me with tranquility, and for Bach, for example, euphoria and a sense of grandeur in the work itself, making everything else feel like almost zero). It was a bad time for me, just as it is a bad time now (though not in that sense), and during that period I wrote a few things, managing to "commit" myself properly, not throwing in the towel, but insisting despite everything. It is like a professional cyclist who, before embarking on a tour of Italy, does not feel the passion that gives him the drive to face it during that period; he undertakes it anyway. I think it's quite heavy (I am talking about things I have done personally, not the tour, and perhaps there is something beyond willpower, because while willpower exists in theory, a person's persistence sometimes transcends willpower itself).

Anyway, I insisted and I still do, with absurd highs and lows, but I do it. Then, every person experiences things differently; as far as I am concerned, I have always lived under heavy stress, and I haven't gotten used to it, nor can I get used to something like this, and finding balance in all of this is difficult, quite difficult—let alone having the headspace to write things properly. And indeed, it shows, or rather, it can be felt; there is always something that doesn't add up. What I mean is that not everyone (especially those who do not live easily, in every sense, those who do not have the fortune of being able to dedicate time to music, and quality time to music—it is the way that distinguishes quality from something that just keeps you simmering, to use a colloquial term) manages to separate their personal state from their musical output. Certainly, having mastery of theory helps, quite a bit; what little I have done during this period, always in a discontinuous way, never regularly, always with stressful thoughts (in a bad way), etc., is a bit more concrete than what I did in the past, fortunately; otherwise, I would have regressed. But it isn't automatic that the passage of time helps; it always depends on the quality of what is being done, the how. I am still somewhere in between, but I can no longer go back, in practice.

I don't feel like writing something without being partly sure of what I have done just because I instinctively like it; I used to do that, now I don't.

Fortunately, ideas are always there, but out of 10, those I consider "good" are always 2 or 3; then maybe one remains, or I pick up things from years ago with a different conception and finish them. However, it is absolutely regular that especially problems of an emotional nature disrupt compositional activity; anyone who says otherwise perhaps has no idea of the discomfort of living in certain contexts, since it is always the brain that carries the load. Writing (and in what manner) while not feeling well, with something disturbing us—especially in a coherent way—is no small matter, but a block is not automatic when one is in a state of difficulty.

In 1997/98 and in 2003, I prepared a total of about 200 pieces of music, particularly "electronic" in nature; over time I selected them, many were discarded, but I was living through heavy situations, both positively and negatively, but they were stimuli that flowed into the music. For a few years now, however, I have had no stimuli (external ones—and how do you, always in theory, develop stimuli from within yourself if your experience does not include what is not part of you?

Can you imagine it? It's possible, but they will never be real external stimuli, I speak from experience), if not (which is still significant) from what I listen to and from some lived experiences, which certainly haven't enriched me, but on the contrary, have finished exhausting me. Yet, paradoxically, I wrote my most fluid pieces during this very period; go figure why.

For me, a person cannot change, but they can improve or worsen; perhaps science will eventually find an explanation that is precisely scientific and not dictated by sensations.

I am also more productive when I am serene; I need not to be distracted by other thoughts, especially if I am thinking orchestrally (can one say that...? I don't know..). I am not one of those who write at the piano first and I must be in the best possible condition; suffering does not help me. Furthermore, inspiration is uncontrollable and unpredictable; I just try to make the most of the moment—when I realize I am giving birth to something nice, I understand that I am in a good moment and I try to bring out as much as possible; other times it is better to disconnect and do something else. If you are then short on time, then the craft comes to your aid and this is an additional stimulus; having a deadline forces you not to become complacent, and this "forcing oneself" to produce something is often a stimulus not only for quantity but also for quality.

Suffering hardly helps, especially in contexts like this, I specified (it's not a polemic, I reused the term "suffering" because a few years ago I was trying to highlight this thing, which is unknown to many, lucky them) this point because it is often in this state that I write; by suffering I mean not only physical, but especially psychological; it can be anything: stress (I also define it as retroactive, meaning things that one carries around for years not for masochistic pleasure, but because unfortunately they have been heavy), a condition in which mood swings occur on the order of hours if not minutes, etc..

And indeed, in certain circumstances I felt forced to abandon even "just" listening, particularly regarding certain music that exalts certain sensations and emotions (not meaning it makes one think of the past, I mean that sometimes, in certain "conditions," one cannot "withstand" the potential of certain music; it is an additional stress, positive, but unmanageable for the organism).

Non-provocative question... but if someone makes a living as a composer, do they only work when they are happy?

No, not only when it is cheerful, but since the question here was about what the most productive moments are, I replied that as far as I am concerned, I am more productive when I am serene and have no other thoughts besides musical ones; perhaps someone else manages to sublimate suffering (anxiety, stress, call it whatever you want) and produce more and better in this condition, but that is not my case.

In this regard, I remember a famous phrase by James Senese, the Black-Neapolitan saxophonist from Pino Daniele's historic group: to the question of where art comes from, James replied: "Art is born from suffering, 'n'o bbi' (you don't see, ed.) Picasso quant sfaccimm era brutt....." ahahah

As far as scanning the day is concerned, I think I am more productive in the early morning compared to other times when I am a bit more tired (see late evening... not to mention overnight)

As soon as I read the topic, a letter came to mind that Mozart wrote to his father describing his typical workday... and it is always interesting to compare the idea we have formed about the lifestyle of some great Masters with what they actually did.

There are those who will be very good at tracking down M.'s letters on the WEB, but I remember that effectively, like any ordinary person on earth today who has another profession... Mozart did not write all day long, but only just after waking up (for about an hour) and in the evening and thereafter.

During the day he couldn't because he was doing something else, e.g., going around to nobles, getting bored in the attempt to procure work, etc... (I don't remember if he gave lessons or not...)

The point is that he didn't write all day as many typically tend to think... Bach, for example, found 8 hours a day to copy music by hand.

Now I say, if instead of copying music by hand for 8 hours a day, someone finds another occupation and avoids the hassle of going mad to procure the means to survive?

Can you even compare? Writing with an empty stomach instead of a full one?

It is also true that copying by hand provides great enrichment and a strong connection to tradition.

It is also true that Mozart wrote a quartet in the time it takes to make a "phone call" in the bathroom... but there is food for thought.

Aside from the digression, there are great artists who expressed themselves best in suffering... personally, I am more productive when my mind is not occupied by many worries; I think worries differ from suffering and, in effect, it is worries that inhibit me more than anything else.

I think it has happened to many to have ideas and jot them down on a scrap of paper (or on Finale for the more advanced); well, in moments of crisis, it is good to dust off those scraps... as for the rest, the craft will do its part and perhaps something almost inspired will emerge

Arzigovolato3 wrote:

A non-provocative question... but if someone does the job of a composer, do they only work when they are happy?

Arzigovolato ... this was one of my concerns

For the rest, thanks to everyone for the insights; perhaps I am overthinking things too much, but the idea of doing a job where mood matters quite a bit worries me a little.

Perhaps I don't have the craft yet, perhaps I thought I could write all day, perhaps I thought I wouldn't be in such difficulty when my morale drops... but I see that I am in good company

In my opinion, inspiration helps very little; once you have the craft, you should be able to get through any situation. In particular, style always comes to the rescue, and once you have consolidated a way of writing, everything will also be easier... at that point, you already know the things that work, there are things you can rely on even when you are mentally less predisposed... so take advantage of "crisis" moments to study more... and then enjoy the fruits

If I were to make a proportion, I would say hypothetically

40% of the time goes to the actual conception of the piece
20% of the time goes to adjustments
30% of the time goes to writing the final score with everything that must be included (including playback)
10% of the time goes to piano rehearsals (if it's an orchestra, move this to the top line)

If there were a way to directly transfer the music thought in one's head onto the sheet music, we would be set, since the brain travels at a speed significantly higher than the hand that writes.

So it happens that you think 10 bars ahead of the writing on paper.

It must also be said that when I write for orchestra, I write everything immediately and always directly on paper... the only exception is when there is a voice involved, where I usually set up the basic accompaniment (whether strings or winds) and then, by re-reading and singing the part, I decide whether to add something; this is because orchestrating with a voice requires greater care not to fatigue the singer with too many instruments or overly invasive instruments.

Anyway... starting from the assumption that "true" inspiration is not like a tap that you turn on when you need it, I am more or less like Geppino, meaning I write better when I have time and am mentally serene, and if I realize that things aren't working, I play basketball with a paper ball.

I also confirm what was said about the deadline... usually, it makes you produce more.

Even Lucio Dalla, in one of his television interviews, closely linked his inspiration to what he called "committenza" (commissioning).

I liked it very much, even though I never followed him.

It gave me the idea of a craftsmanship that is still present and fruitful.

Ok guys, but deadlines make me anxious... maybe I don't have the craft yet and I rely heavily on so-called inspiration. In the sense that if I don't get good ideas... the rest is "rubbish".

But your points of view are very useful, thank you. I hope to improve ... soon ...