One of the best things about being a student, according to many, is the excessive amount of holidays – particularly over the summer. For me, that means an opportunity to finally work on a piece for submission to one of the many calls-for-works that come to my student email inbox, but which I flag for later action.

At least, that’s the theory.

In reality, however, I allow the majority of the deadlines to pass and, sometime mid-January, realise that I’ve wasted the majority of the break and must immediately begin work on something (simply to appease my guilt).

So, last week I perused a few of the aforementioned emails and found one that appealed. There was, however, something in there that very nearly turned me off: the specification that the ensemble was “up for adventurous works which included extended techniques”.

Call me old-fashioned, but those two words, “extended techniques”, immediately make me uncomfortable. Whenever I see a pianist stand and reach for the strings, or a clarinetist free their instrument of its mouthpiece and prepare to palm-slap it, I start looking at my watch. I am genuinely surprised by the number of composers who employ these methods.

My first thought was to compose a piece that gradually disintegrated into a mess of unconventional noises (think Schnittke‘s polystylism), just to expose these techniques for what they are. However, I abandoned that idea when I thought to myself, “Who am I to poke fun at something many people clearly enjoy?” – also, since the call specified that works had to be under 60 seconds in duration (you understand now why that particular email caught my attention), I figured I wouldn’t be able to make my purpose clear in such a short piece.

Regardless, this experience led me to think about these modern playing practices.

Now, I (thank goodness) am not a performer. If I were, though, and a composer asked me to play my instrument in any way other than that which nature had intended, I would flatly refuse. Furthermore, if they asked me to stamp my feet, clap my hands, pat my head etc. I would get angry (I have actually been to a performance in which one of the players was instructed to tear their score into pieces and eat it – seriously).

In my opinion, musical instruments are objects of immense beauty. I can understand and appreciate (although, choose not to listen to the fruits of) the innovative thinking of people such as the Vegetable Orchestra, but when you’re spending thousands of dollars on a handmade antique it should be treated with respect. As for “prepared” instruments – I think the manufacturer spent enough time preparing it for you.

Am I missing something?