MY OWN: PART II « drewschnurr.com

Drew Schnurr is a composer, sound artist, and performer from Los Angeles whose work blurs traditional lines in music, media, and sound.

As a composer for media, Drew has produced music and sonic branding for numerous world brands and media conglomerates. He is also an active concert composer and sound artist with a diverse range of international commissions and exhibits.

Revered by his peers, industry professionals, and critics, his work has been called both “rare” and “remarkable.”

“This composer bends and stretches rules within his own aesthetic, weaving his musical ideas in harmonious waves that threaten to drown, yet gently tumble the listener forward with intrigue and anticipation.” -Adam Rosenthal review for Persee: Orchestrated Perception

VISUAL MEDIA PORTFOLIO
CONCERT PORTFOLIO
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Hyperventilations

for Piano with Four Hands [cat. sc26]

Hyperventilations of a Fire Dragon harnesses music from my early career as a performer in latin bands, jazz ensembles, funk bands, and rock and metal bands. The underlying fervency of these influences is felt throughout the work, leveraged by the power and agility of the piano, driving the performance often to the edge of playability. This piece initiates a compositional renaissance, a drilling down into the musical cores of “fire” that constitute the music of my youth. It comes from the gut—quite literally, was breathed into life. The melodic and rhythmic motives are all derived from vocal inflections (and hyperventilations) improvised, recorded, transcribed and re-composed by the composer.

DREW SCHNURR (2015)

Premiered by Vicki Ray and Aaron Kallay — Hear Now Festival, Los Angeles, May 2015.
Video performance by pianists Kookhee Hong and Minji Noh.

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watch HYPERVENTILATIONS

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MY OWN: PART II

08/07/06

Fear is my own.

I will never feel safe in your arms. Fear is my own. Layers upon layers and I will still tremble at the night. Fear is never renounced, only neutralized in acceptance. Life is flawed, uncertain. The truth is a razor cutting mercilessly. It is not in your power to protect, nor should it be for living is precious in fragility. Destiny mandates us broken and remade. Fear is my own, a beacon. Light shines on that which will unbind me. Birth is pain. Fear is my own.

Passion is my own.

The truth of desire whispers to me. Passion is my own. I walk with the air. I am drawn by that which can only be self-known. It resonates of my heart. Fire, you can drink of mine but never kindle. It only flows from depths. Other founts are destined finite. Passion is my own. The tone is faint but pure, impossible to imitate. It calls to me like a lost lover, always patient, poised to suspend time. My lover awaits. Passion is my own.

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