Composering

Inventory

Dynaflow Drive Descant m1_0003The collected evidence of my compositional life has long been in a scattershot and often inaccessible state, owing to a) my persistence in hand-writing my scores well into the 21st century; b) my excessively casual habits of hard drive backup and maintenance; and c) my general indifference to self-promotion. Thanks to an uncharacteristic spasm of gainful behavior, however, you can now access many more of my scores than before by investigating the “Compositions” tab on that upper menu up there. There’s an intricately daffy bit of chamber-orchestra metaphysics, a string quartet engineered from leftover Beach Boys DNA, some pop-culture graffiti for solo flute, a flock of choral music, and more.

There’s a few more old pieces I’d like to engrave and upload, but I like how the list already reads like a coded autobiography: you can see when I was working hard to get traction as a composer, when I started my church job, when freelance work would go through a dry spell so I would compose out of boredom, when life took over, &c. Sounds make their own oddly-textured archives.

Multitasking

Jesus Thy Servant antedate_0002

Guerrieri: Jesus, Thy Servant Is Resign’d (MORVEN 8.6.8.6) (2018); introit version

More fruits of my church-job labor, this one a hymn that we’re singing as an introit for a few weeks in order to soften up the congregation for it. Familiarity breeds… familiarity? That’s the hope.

“Morven” was the Ossianic name of the Princeton mansion that was home to Annis Boudinot Stockton (1736-1801), author of the text. Stockton was a member in good standing of the early American power elite, such as it was: her husband signed the Declaration of Independence, and she maintained a correspondence with George Washington.

Let them when they leave thy altars / Kindle others in thy name

office

This space has been quiet for four months, but, for once, I have a decent excuse, as I have doing my utmost to take advantage of the flatteringly good fortune of a fellowship at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard. The full, worldwide panorama of post-World War II music requires diligent pursuit! Nevertheless, I am giving it a shot. If you’re in Cambridge, feel free to drop by.

Still, it’s a good time to catch up on collating some other work. I am very happy once again to be mingling with the fine souls at NewMusicBox, this time with some ruminations on music’s ability (or lack thereof) to connect:

Courtesy of the implacable nature of the church calendar, there’s also two more choral introits to add to the ever-expanding list:

And the Globe column has been scaled back to a monthly affair, but continues to lurk around the edges of the newspaper industry:

Put it all in one place like that, and I seem really productive. Negligence has its advantages.

De cetero, fratres, gaudete

Oh Yes 1-4

Guerrieri: Oh, Yes! (2014) (PDF, 218 Kb)

Guerrieri: From Proverbs (2015) (PDF, 56 Kb)

Guerrieri: My God! Permit My Tongue (2017) (PDF, 42 Kb)

The Presbyterian Church in Sudbury, the place that provides me with much of my gainful employment, is in the midst of searching for a new permanent pastor, which, within Presbyterian polity, is a deliberately long and painstaking process. It does, however, provide the opportunity for temporary and interim pastors to pass through and leave their mark, and, in that regard, we’ve been pretty lucky.

Intending to post the introit that was a parting gift to our most recent interim pastor, I realized that I had never posted the introit paying tribute to the previous one, nor, even, the anthem that was written as a farewell to our former permanent pastor—inexplicable indolences that I am happy to now rectify. Bill McIvor, Carolyn Browning Helsel, Rick Otty: it’s been a distinct and genuine pleasure working with you.

UPDATE (November 2017): One more, for the Rev. Tom Forster-Smith:

Guerrieri: Hark! a Gladsome Voice is Thrilling (2017) (PDF, 53 Kb)

UPDATE (August 2018): One more, for the Rev. Kelsey Woodruff:

Guerrieri: Christ for the World We Sing (COELSIGE 6.6.4.6.6.6.4) (2018) (PDF, 154 Kb)