“Love and marriage, horse and carriage” – words by Sammy Cahn to the song made famous by Frank Sinatra – they go together! The same has to be said for the two essential elements of the composer’s art - creativity and craft.

Creativity without craft can mean that a great musical idea or thought isn’t heard in its best light or doesn’t have the maximum impact on the listener.

Take, for example, the opening of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring and the way in which that melodic line is given to the bassoon, crafted in its rise and fall and assured in where it is placed at the top of the instrumental range. It is unimaginable now on any other instrument and without that technique-demanding placement. And there is something else – creativity can stretch instrumental technique. Incidentally, Proms 62 and 63 on 2nd September are performances by the innovative Aurora Orchestra of the entire Rite of Spring – wait for it – by heart!

And what of craft without creativity? There are plenty of times when composers rely on knowing that something they have written will, ‘work’ or ‘balance’ or ‘do the job’. After all, we have centuries of written examples that have gone before us to draw on - if you like, a massive living manual of ‘how to do it’!

The tipping point is where the music crosses into the realms of pastiche and the composer’s original voice is temporarily lost. I used to be concerned when a thought in a new piece reminded me of something I had written in an earlier work or in fact sounded very like a section of that earlier work. Now, I appreciate that every context is different and building a bank of typical sound helps to shape my character as a composer.

Sometimes the creativity can take over and, in the flow of a musical line, you can slip beyond the range and capabilities of the instrument. Too low for the strings or a double stop that would require fingers to grow as long as Pinocchio’s nose! Kick in craft. Too many notes, too close together for the harp – a harpist friend described it once as ‘knitting with the harp’s strings’. Kick in craft. So much going on that the all important entry on the flute is lost. Kick in craft!

There is a continual and important process of both inward listening (as I don’t have a full orchestra in my studio!) and of careful visual checking. That’s where I am now. I am a great believer in giving performers the freedom, and their own creativity, of interpretation. At the same time, I have the responsibility to convey to them as clearly as possible how I am hearing my music. Many a slip twixt cup and lip, but that is what rehearsals are for and the first one will be a moment of both exhilaration and trepidation!

The image is of glassware by Dale Chihuly – a superb example of craft and creativity and I can hear my piece, Seascapes, in it!

By my final blog in August, all will be done, pencil down, parts printed, out of my hands and onto the players’ music stands.