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Spring/Summer 2020 Journal eJournal ACWC/AFCC Spring/ Summer 2020 Table of Contents 3 Notes from the Chair Carol Ann Weaver 6 From the Editor Fiona Evison 8 ACWC / AFCC Anniversary Celebrations Diane Berry 10 Special Report: Composers in the Time of a Pandemic 19 Creativity and Routines: Survival Strategies in Anno Covid Xenia Pestova Bennett 22 My Journey from Film Distributor to Librettist Sharon Singer 26 Tribute: Rebekah Cummings – A Retrospective Irene Markoff 31 Interview: A Special Concert Postponed Christie Morrison 36 A Newly Imagined Piano Eve Egoyan 40 New Member Profiles 42 New Canadian Opera: Chinatown 44 International Alliance of Women in Music Report Diane Berry 50 Member Opportunities and News All writers in the Journal are ACWC members, unless otherwise indicated. 2 eJournal ACWC/AFCC Spring/ Summer 2020 Notes from the Chair Surround-Sound: Listening to our World During the Pandemic Carol Ann Weaver These days during the coronavirus pandemic with schedules blown apart, priorities refocused (or unfocused), musical activities altered or abolished, scored compositions for ensemble music becoming a thing of the recent past or distant future, funds drying up, dreams being put on hold, we begin to wonder about our existence as composers. Virtual ensembles fill our screens with dozens of performers playing music together, distantly (and possibly, moistly!) Multi-tracking our music into segments of larger virtual composites has become an exciting musical option. But what about our real-time, non-virtual music? What is our way forward? How do we find ways to hear and present a wider spectrum of sounds, which exist around us in our physical world? During the spring, I am spending countless hours recording resident and migrating birds, local frogs and toads, rhythmic dripping of water in a spout, all manner of natural sounds in my environment. I realize how interdependent sounds and soundscapes are within and among each other. While recording technology allows for parabolic microphones to capture the very focused sound of a far-away bird, conventional microphones allow for all surrounding sounds to be equally included. In our desire to hear the natural world in pristine clarity, we tend to stylize our recorded soundscapes by editing out certain distracting mechanical noises which act as sonic bullies within this otherwise “natural” environment – sounds such as car motors, electric saws buzzing and droning, leaf-blowers drowning out the song of a rare migrating Chestnut-sided Warbler in the backyard. And now, while we are wondering what music to compose, and for whom, when, where, and how, we may be allowing ourselves to listen to the world about us as a new form of music, a new surround sound in which our music becomes our environment, and our environment becomes our music. 3 eJournal ACWC/AFCC Spring/ Summer 2020 Since March 2020, the WFAE (World Forum for Acoustic Ecology), of which I am a member, has had a continuous feed of emails from members around the world who are commenting about our changing soundscape during this pandemic, with many fewer vehicles on roads, planes in the sky or industrial noises. Our cities and towns have become quieter with bars, pubs, and restaurants mostly shut down; festivals and concerts postponed; physical gatherings of larger groups of people prohibited. Many people are hearing birds for the first time where they would have previously only heard motors, engines and the buzz of so-called “progress.” Actually, as I listen to the world from my perch here in Waterloo, Ontario, the soundscape today seems somewhat reminiscent of the small town sounds where I grew up, with fewer mechanical noises and more natural sounds. Human speaking voices are easily heard again, as are footsteps on the pavement, children playing in their yards, bicycles and strollers passing by, with city streets becoming playgrounds, and sidewalks becoming (socially- distancing) community centres. Perhaps we didn’t notice the gradual buildup of sound over the years, but for us to be able to return, rather suddenly, to a reshaped sonic environment is a wake-up call for all of us who value sound. How do we want to go from here? ACWC member and sonic ecologist Hildegard Westerkamp offers these words on silence, which has become a new kind of soundscape during this pandemic. Silences [can be] eerie because they indicate disaster, hardship, death, suffering. Like all destruction there is also a gift, an opening, a waking up, a noticing of dramatic changes. These silences contain seeds for renewal and inspiration, for learning and sources of information for --to name just one example –how we might better deal with climate change. If people want to document this silence it does not mean they lack compassion or engagement with the hardships and tragedies that are happening in this same silence. Silence is big and can contain all of our human struggles, joys and multitudes of emotions.” (WFAE listserv, March 22, 2020) Meanwhile, during the pandemic, new ways of making community music seem to be emerging. Every evening in our ’hood we create our own Corona-Jam! Several households of us come out on our porches and 4 eJournal ACWC/AFCC Spring/ Summer 2020 sidewalks, playing our hearts out on shakers, bells, tambourines, pots, pans, while hearing distant horns and vuvuzelas. We range in age from four years old to seniors. Each evening I play a pot lid with lovely low tone, plus a pair of agogo (African) bells with different higher pitches. These three pitches, along with the infinite variety of rhythms and interactive improvisations, create a complete sonic world, expressing an exuberant sound of our pandemic era. We play in thanks for life, and in thanks to all healers and front- line workers! We also have circus acts, running contests, riddle sharing, and show-and-tell of Lego projects and moose antler collections. Traditionally, within most world cultures, music has always existed in tandem with other activities and expressions, so we are creating nothing new. Rather, we’re joining the millennia-old experience of creating sound as a human “rite.” Lyle Friesen playing a Ghanian shake and Carol Ann Weaver Many of us would rather not return to on tambourine and African agogo doing their Corona-Jam. the crescendo of our pre-pandemic, human-made cacophony, which crowded out much of the natural soundscape and was often too busy to listen to all our voices, no matter how large or small. So, if we are able to start over again, how will we listen to our world and reshape our sonic output? And how will we, as composers, write music that captures the new soundscapes surrounding us? How will we begin to hear a fuller spectrum of sound and incorporate a wider experience of sound making as community experience? As we search for new ways to listen to our current pandemic-era soundscape, we can hopefully create a better sonic world, post-pandemic. This, after all, is the work of us composers – to listen, to reflect, to create! Happy listening to us all! Carol Ann Weaver is the Chair of ACWC/AFCC. Carol Ann is a cele- brated Canadian composer whose music has been heard throughout North America and in parts of Europe, Africa, Korea and Paraguay. 5 eJournal ACWC/AFCC Spring/ Summer 2020 From the Editor How Quickly Things Can Change Fiona Evison This is my second edition as Journal editor, and last fall as I learned how to put it together, I never imagined how different life would be now. A big change for me was in employment—I was hired shortly after the last edition's publication as a church music director. I have been a church musician since teenager days, but had stepped back from a regular position in the last few years. It was exciting to be back at the keyboard, helping to leading a community in song –community music has long been my passion and composition focus. However, while I was learning to tame a temperamental pipe organ, and serve the unique musical needs of a new choir, liturgical tradition, and church culture, there was a lurking danger. In the midst of writing and arranging Christmas music to celebrate the Light, there was an unknown coming season of mourning the dark. All of us in music circles have been significantly impacted by COVID-19, and questioned what this new virus will mean for music-making. I have been tracking the emerging research on the safety of ensemble singing. Or, trying—it is hard to stay on top of it all, and sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the data, the situation, and life under lockdown. As someone with an immune disease, and who is taking immune-suppressing medication, I am in a high-risk category. Although my faith tradition anchors me in hope, being high-risk means that I have been required to stay home more than most. So, these changes in mobility and interactions with others have been a huge adjustment for my extrovert self. Other changes are family related: a sibling was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer at the start of the pandemic, and I have only been able to visit once. Texts and emails are not the same as being together and really seeing how they are doing. A new granddaughter is coming soon into this pandemic world. Normally, I would help my daughter prepare for this new arrival, but have not done so. My niece's wedding turned from a much anticipated family celebration into a minute drive-in affair. These family matters seem even more difficult to me than the disappointment of cancelled concerts. 6 eJournal ACWC/AFCC Spring/ Summer 2020 The world has become even more virtual than before, and what unique opportunities this presents to make music! And yet, a real struggle for us in community music, who value accessibility for all, has been the reality that there are many to whom technology is a barrier.

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