Stephen Goss
Stephen Goss
Music & Flux
Music & Flux
I
I
The most exciting thing is the fact that the guitar repertoire is in constant flux. It doesn't have this kind of established canon. We wanted it for a long time. There was this mid-20th-century obsession with being like other instruments. But as the world has changed, it's now the other instruments who are kind of jealous of the guitar. We have pieces in our repertoire, which are actually very new, but already feel quite old and hackneyed. We need to move from them. For example, the first Brouwer "Sonata" from 1990. We think of it as a kind of war horse. Whereas in the violin, cello, piano, and voice repertoires, there's rarely anything as new as that.
The most exciting thing is the fact that the guitar repertoire is in constant flux. It doesn't have this kind of established canon. We wanted it for a long time. There was this mid-20th-century obsession with being like other instruments. But as the world has changed, it's now the other instruments who are kind of jealous of the guitar. We have pieces in our repertoire, which are actually very new, but already feel quite old and hackneyed. We need to move from them. For example, the first Brouwer "Sonata" from 1990. We think of it as a kind of war horse. Whereas in the violin, cello, piano, and voice repertoires, there's rarely anything as new as that.
Music & Bravery
Music & Bravery
II
II
There simply aren't enough creative players. It's partly due to the fact that people go to conservatoires, they play repertoire in quite a conservative way because they're being assessed. They go to competitions, and they don't want to take too many risks. There's a of culture of safe, neat playing. But in addition to that, there are other players and students of other players who are a lot more openly creative. I mean, for example, Zoran Dukić, Aniello Desiderio, and their students. They are playing in much more colorful and interesting ways. With the younger generation, I'm excited by the players who do crazy things, take risks, and make exciting music on stage.
There simply aren't enough creative players. It's partly due to the fact that people go to conservatoires, they play repertoire in quite a conservative way because they're being assessed. They go to competitions, and they don't want to take too many risks. There's a of culture of safe, neat playing. But in addition to that, there are other players and students of other players who are a lot more openly creative. I mean, for example, Zoran Dukić, Aniello Desiderio, and their students. They are playing in much more colorful and interesting ways. With the younger generation, I'm excited by the players who do crazy things, take risks, and make exciting music on stage.
Music & Alchemy
Music & Alchemy
III
III
It's an exciting moment. What's happening is collaborations between composers who don't play the guitar and guitarists are getting much more proactive. There was a time when a composer would write a guitar piece, having been given an hour's lesson on how the guitar works by the guitarist. And then the guitarist takes the score and says, “Well, this is unplayable” and tries to kind of make it work. What's happening now and what happened - certainly with Julian Anderson's piece "Catalan Peasant with Guitar" - is that he sat down with a guitarist (Laura Snowden) from the word go, and they kind of worked together. They spent a lot of time together working on the piece as a whole. I think that the collaborative space now is in a lot better health than it used to be. And I think the quality of guitarist-composers is rising; more and more composers who study composition are guitarists. There was a time when virtually every composer was a pianist. But now, there are a number of composers who may not play the guitar professionally anymore, but they come from a guitar background. And I think it's very good that there's a lot of contemporary music on programs.
It's an exciting moment. What's happening is collaborations between composers who don't play the guitar and guitarists are getting much more proactive. There was a time when a composer would write a guitar piece, having been given an hour's lesson on how the guitar works by the guitarist. And then the guitarist takes the score and says, “Well, this is unplayable” and tries to kind of make it work. What's happening now and what happened - certainly with Julian Anderson's piece "Catalan Peasant with Guitar" - is that he sat down with a guitarist (Laura Snowden) from the word go, and they kind of worked together. They spent a lot of time together working on the piece as a whole. I think that the collaborative space now is in a lot better health than it used to be. And I think the quality of guitarist-composers is rising; more and more composers who study composition are guitarists. There was a time when virtually every composer was a pianist. But now, there are a number of composers who may not play the guitar professionally anymore, but they come from a guitar background. And I think it's very good that there's a lot of contemporary music on programs.
Cantigas de Santiago
Cantigas de Santiago
Music & Narrative
Music & Narrative
IV
IV
I'm thinking about ideas for pieces all the time. And there are many, many ideas I have that don't end up as pieces.I remember at one time I thought, “I must make time to read Italo Calvino.” And I thought, “Well, the only way I'm going to do this is if I write a piece.” So I started reading "Invisible Cities" and thought to myself, “This is perfect,” so I wrote a concerto for guitar, violins, strings, and percussion, based on "Invisible Cities." And of course, then I read the novel, read about it, did all these things, knowing that if I hadn't been writing a piece about it, there's no way I would have made the time to study the literature in that much detail. And that pattern has repeated itself in a lot of pieces. With David's piece, "Cantigas de Santiago," he's from Vigo, he's from the area, so he's walked the Camino many times. He knew the music, so there's a personal connection with that. But yeah, I always write pieces that are basically conceptual. They have a kind of narrative. Storytelling seems to be a recurring theme in my music.
I'm thinking about ideas for pieces all the time. And there are many, many ideas I have that don't end up as pieces.I remember at one time I thought, “I must make time to read Italo Calvino.” And I thought, “Well, the only way I'm going to do this is if I write a piece.” So I started reading "Invisible Cities" and thought to myself, “This is perfect,” so I wrote a concerto for guitar, violins, strings, and percussion, based on "Invisible Cities." And of course, then I read the novel, read about it, did all these things, knowing that if I hadn't been writing a piece about it, there's no way I would have made the time to study the literature in that much detail. And that pattern has repeated itself in a lot of pieces. With David's piece, "Cantigas de Santiago," he's from Vigo, he's from the area, so he's walked the Camino many times. He knew the music, so there's a personal connection with that. But yeah, I always write pieces that are basically conceptual. They have a kind of narrative. Storytelling seems to be a recurring theme in my music.
Invisible Cities
Invisible Cities
Music & Narrative
Music & Narrative
V
V
It's something I've always been interested in: the reworking of old music, intertextuality. I like making music about other music. Stravinsky's neoclassicism has been a big influence. Mahler is a huge influence. There's plenty of it in Beethoven, too. It's just kind of intertextual referencing, changing of style. It's something I've always been interested in, even when I was lecturing at the university, I led a whole course about postmodernism, intertextuality, and all these sorts of things. Making these associations is something that excites me. It gives the piece a narrative direction, narrative shape, but at the same time, keeps the narrative quite ambiguous, so it can be interpreted in any way whatsoever. I mean, in the "Sonata," there's a lot of old music referenced in it. It's not necessarily near the surface. Once or twice in the piece it does kind of bubble up a little bit. I just love the idea of writing music about music. Meta music, I suppose.
It's something I've always been interested in: the reworking of old music, intertextuality. I like making music about other music. Stravinsky's neoclassicism has been a big influence. Mahler is a huge influence. There's plenty of it in Beethoven, too. It's just kind of intertextual referencing, changing of style. It's something I've always been interested in, even when I was lecturing at the university, I led a whole course about postmodernism, intertextuality, and all these sorts of things. Making these associations is something that excites me. It gives the piece a narrative direction, narrative shape, but at the same time, keeps the narrative quite ambiguous, so it can be interpreted in any way whatsoever. I mean, in the "Sonata," there's a lot of old music referenced in it. It's not necessarily near the surface. Once or twice in the piece it does kind of bubble up a little bit. I just love the idea of writing music about music. Meta music, I suppose.
Sonata
Sonata
Thin Fantasies
Thin Fantasies
VI
VI
The writing process is very interesting because I will fantasize about a piece as long as possible. Procrastination goes on until you get to a day, and you know that unless you start that day, you will not finish in time. So while that fantasizing is going on, it's going to be the best piece of music ever written by a human being ever. And then, of course, you actually get to the point when you start writing it, and it's just another shitty little piece. This is something other composers have talked about too. You have an initial kind of momentum, and then you hit this moment of self-doubt, and your enthusiasm for the piece goes rock bottom. The composer goes, “God, how have I done this before? This is really hard. This piece is not going to be good at all.” And there's a kind of gradual climb out of it. Then at the end, when you're working with players rehearsing the piece and looking towards the piece, then of course they take it to a different level. It's very exciting at that point. But it seems to happen every time.
The writing process is very interesting because I will fantasize about a piece as long as possible. Procrastination goes on until you get to a day, and you know that unless you start that day, you will not finish in time. So while that fantasizing is going on, it's going to be the best piece of music ever written by a human being ever. And then, of course, you actually get to the point when you start writing it, and it's just another shitty little piece. This is something other composers have talked about too. You have an initial kind of momentum, and then you hit this moment of self-doubt, and your enthusiasm for the piece goes rock bottom. The composer goes, “God, how have I done this before? This is really hard. This piece is not going to be good at all.” And there's a kind of gradual climb out of it. Then at the end, when you're working with players rehearsing the piece and looking towards the piece, then of course they take it to a different level. It's very exciting at that point. But it seems to happen every time.
Music & Terror
Music & Terror
VII
VII
First performances are always terrifying because it's the first time you've heard the piece in its full length in front of lots of other people. Your ears are hypersensitive, not just to listening to the piece, but being aware of how the audience is reacting, because they're constantly feeding back. You know what it's like when you're on stage, you can tell when people start to get bored. When you're sitting in the audience, you're even more aware of that. You're looking around a little bit, and then it's at that point you might think, “Oh, that movement's a bit long.” Then you might go back and actually cut something, make changes. The first performance is very much a laboratory. I'd hate to have to finalize a piece in time for the first performance. And normally, they're not finalized for a long time afterwards.
First performances are always terrifying because it's the first time you've heard the piece in its full length in front of lots of other people. Your ears are hypersensitive, not just to listening to the piece, but being aware of how the audience is reacting, because they're constantly feeding back. You know what it's like when you're on stage, you can tell when people start to get bored. When you're sitting in the audience, you're even more aware of that. You're looking around a little bit, and then it's at that point you might think, “Oh, that movement's a bit long.” Then you might go back and actually cut something, make changes. The first performance is very much a laboratory. I'd hate to have to finalize a piece in time for the first performance. And normally, they're not finalized for a long time afterwards.
Cinema Paradiso
Cinema Paradiso
Music & Alchemy
Music & Alchemy
VIII
VIII
I think players can be braver. After all, it doesn't really matter what the composer thinks anyway. You know Zoran, when I got done with the draft of "Cinema Paradiso," he sort of said, “I don't need you now. This is mine. Off you go.” And he was half joking, but deadly serious because composers are very indebted to performance. Performers are the alchemists; they turn based metal into gold, and they often have ideas that we don't think about. Enough composers are open-minded, and the ones that aren't, well, it doesn't matter. I think people pay too much respect to what the composer will think. Whereas, in fact, I think it's up to the player to do interesting and magical things. Even if you want to sort of cut sections out of movements or whatever, make them shorter. A lot of composers might object, but I think we're perfectly within our power to do that as performers.
I think players can be braver. After all, it doesn't really matter what the composer thinks anyway. You know Zoran, when I got done with the draft of "Cinema Paradiso," he sort of said, “I don't need you now. This is mine. Off you go.” And he was half joking, but deadly serious because composers are very indebted to performance. Performers are the alchemists; they turn based metal into gold, and they often have ideas that we don't think about. Enough composers are open-minded, and the ones that aren't, well, it doesn't matter. I think people pay too much respect to what the composer will think. Whereas, in fact, I think it's up to the player to do interesting and magical things. Even if you want to sort of cut sections out of movements or whatever, make them shorter. A lot of composers might object, but I think we're perfectly within our power to do that as performers.
Music & Bravery
Music & Bravery
IX
IX
Performers need to take more control and be more bold, particularly with changing stuff. Composers aren't really worried about the notes they write. They want the music to flow, to have its character, and be free to kind of fly around the room. People sort of doggedly respect all those thinking, “Oh, I can't change a note.” People are happy to change dynamics, articulations, colors, for every other parameter. Somehow, it seems that pitch is the sacred cow that you can't. But, you know, you can take notes out of chords, and suddenly a whole passage is much more playable. No composer is ever really going to object to their piece sounding better.
Performers need to take more control and be more bold, particularly with changing stuff. Composers aren't really worried about the notes they write. They want the music to flow, to have its character, and be free to kind of fly around the room. People sort of doggedly respect all those thinking, “Oh, I can't change a note.” People are happy to change dynamics, articulations, colors, for every other parameter. Somehow, it seems that pitch is the sacred cow that you can't. But, you know, you can take notes out of chords, and suddenly a whole passage is much more playable. No composer is ever really going to object to their piece sounding better.
—————————————————
Interview conducted June 19, 2025 at the Guitar Foundation of America festival in Louisville, Kentucky. All words here are Stephen's own. In very select places a word here and there is edited for clarity.
Pieces referenced in the interview:
Stephen Goss - Cantigas de Santiago
Stephen Goss - Cinema Paradiso
Stephen Goss - Sonata
Stephen Goss - Invisible Cities
Julian Anderson - Catalan Peasant with Guitar
You can learn more about Stephen on his website.
This installment of IRIS GARDEN is rather obviously inspired by Italo Calvino's "Invisible Cities."
Photos of Stephen taken June 19, 2025 and developed/scanned by State Film Lab. Photos of Venice taken on July 9, 2024 and developed/scanned by Gelatin Labs. All photos shot on Kodak Tri-X 400.
—————————————————
Interview conducted June 19, 2025 at the Guitar Foundation of America festival in Louisville, Kentucky. All words here are Stephen's own. In very select places a word here and there is edited for clarity.
Pieces referenced in the interview:
Stephen Goss - Cantigas de Santiago
Stephen Goss - Cinema Paradiso
Stephen Goss - Sonata
Stephen Goss - Invisible Cities
Julian Anderson - Catalan Peasant with Guitar
You can learn more about Stephen on his website.
This installment of IRIS GARDEN is rather obviously inspired by Italo Calvino's "Invisible Cities."
Photos of Stephen taken June 19, 2025 and developed/scanned by State Film Lab. Photos of Venice taken on July 9, 2024 and developed/scanned by Gelatin Labs. All photos shot on Kodak Tri-X 400.
