A. Kori Hill
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Editor’s Note: This account is written in first person and draws upon scholarship on Dorothy Rudd Moore. Some of the material includes direct quotes from interviews with Rudd Moore. If you want to learn more about her, check out Helen Walker-Hill’s From Spirituals to Symphonies and William Banfield’s Musical Landscapes in Color
When it comes to writing music, I don’t just say, “Oh, I have this idea for a melody,” like I did when I was a little girl. Writing music is too difficult for me to just dally at it. I think about a lot of things first. It is a thought process. In a way, composing is very similar to sewing. If the seams are done right, it will fit well and look good.
Stylistically, I’m not very interested in minimalism or the avant-garde; I want my musical ideas to go somewhere, and I don’t think we’ve explored the full range of tonal music to throw it aside. If I had to name two influences on my music, it would be J.S. Bach and Duke Ellington. But ultimately, my music sounds like me: deftly constructed, detailed, and clear.
Take, for instance, my Baroque Suite for Unaccompanied Cello (1965). This was a wedding present for my husband, Kermit, a cellist and conductor. I like to joke that he had me under his technical spell when I wrote this.
It has three movements and begins with a reference to the opening of the prelude from Bach’s Partita No. 3 in E major for solo violin. I use sequential settings of the opening half step to grow the first movement, “Allegro,” with the theme reappearing throughout to provide a return to something familiar while allowing the musical line to go into new places.
Take a listen to the second and third movements, “Molto adagio” and “Allegro vivace.” Do I use the same approach, or something different? Listen to Cincinnati Symphony member Drew Dansby playing it and tell your teacher what you think.
Three years after I wrote Baroque Suite, I finished Modes (1968) for string quartet. The Clarmore String Quartet premiered in May 1968 at the Harlem School of the Arts.
This quartet has three movements, and once again, shows how much I love the different ways individual parts can fit together and build upon each other. The Argus Quartet has a great interpretation of it you can watch here.
The first movement, “Moderato,” starts in the cello. The theme emerges in different instruments to create a texture known as a fugue: a type of music where different voices sing or play the same melody at different times, like a musical game of tag. “Adagio” begins with the violins before passing to the viola and cello. “Allegro” is fiery and angry thanks to the dissonant harmonies and contrapuntal phrases across the group. Here, I use a variant of the fugue structure in the middle of the movement to develop the main theme, but not at the expense of one line rising above the others. All three movements are a good example of contrapuntal motion: where two or more independent lines move in relation to each other. Contrapuntal compositions can get a bit busy and confusing. But that’s what’s fun about composing: find the balance, keep the ear active, and embrace the sonic kaleidoscope.
