aging gracefully

In the many 100th-birthday interviews with Elliott Carter, I hear the same slowing and openness in his speech that I've heard in his recent music. But there's always been an elegance and a lyrical impulse in Carter, even as he's spent his life defining (or co-defining, along with Babbitt) American modernism.

Most people spend less than half of their years really focused on their 'life's work.' Working artists arguably spend a higher percentage since we don't retire per se. But Carter -- if we define his undergrad years as the time when he started identifying primarily as a composer -- has kept the same focus for more than 80 years, or more than 80% of his life, and that percentage is only increasing as he keeps working. He says he doesn't define his career by eras or decades, but he has felt an evolution from larger to smaller scale: "I finally have done all my adventures and great big noisy pieces. Now I write simple ones. That’s a new adventure."

I'm a year into my 30s now, and I'm thinking of this as a decade of focusing, especially in material terms (much more focus on actual composing; much less focus on multitasking, volunteering, saying "Yes!" to anything inspiring and Renaissance-Womaning beyond all logic). And it does still feel early to me, partly because I've always guessed I'll live for a long time. (I'm 'slow' and 'cool' physically -- low blood pressure, low body temp -- and I'm flexible/relaxed/optimistic in the ways that reportedly extend lifespan in less-measurable terms.) It's been really interesting watching myself aging out of most Young Composer competitions (and squeaking in under the wire to win a few :)). Those lines are necessarily arbitrary, but I can easily see the reasons for drawing them.

And I'm always curious about the negativity and anger with which some composers respond to competitions that have age limits. A given competition is just one opportunity in a sea of opportunities, most of which we create ourselves by being willing to imagine new projects and organize things and build relationships and treat performers with total respect (both in human terms and by giving them perfectly clear, perfectly correct, cue-filled, beautifully laid out parts... something every composer, myself definitely included, can always devote more time to).

Carter's an ideal model: quiet passion that's kept him working (and, probably in no small measure, kept him living) for an 80+ year career; total devotion to clear, logical notation; and an increasingly gentle, open way of meeting the world. Respect and positivity keep careers alive as much as they keep humans alive. May we all grow up as lucky and as openhearted as he has.