In the last decades of the 20th century, Daniel Pinkham was one of the brightest jewels in America’s choral diadem of composers. His creative energy spilled into churches, schools, and concerts of all types. I knew him for over 40 years, first as a professional colleague and later as a friend. His death on December 18, 2006, was a loss to many people in the musical world; however, it may be the choral area where it will be most broadly felt. This is not to minimize his robust contributions of instrumental works, but throughout America some of his works had become standards in choral literature and were performed annually by vast numbers of singers at every level of vocal ability.
I first encountered Pinkham while teaching at a Florida university in the late 1960s. He had been commissioned by the Florida Vocal Association to write a work for their Junior High All-State Choir, which was to be performed at the state convention. He was brought there for the premiere as a guest of the convention. The work he supplied had a high degree of indeterminacy in it, which at that time was somewhat of a consternation to the junior high teachers who had to prepare their singers before the convention. As with most of Pinkham’s writing, the music was creative, clever, and performable, although there were many on the floor of the convention who disagreed. Nevertheless, the work came off well and, as was the case with so many of his choral settings, the longer people listened to the rehearsal of it, the more they appreciated the innate depth of the music.
Over the years, I wrote three articles on his choral music—the first, an interview entitled “On Composing” (The Choral Journal, March 1976). In that dialogue with him, he revealed numerous insights into his process of composing. For example, he said, “I have discovered that morning is best for me. I find the notes, which still is the most difficult, in the hours roughly 9:00 am to noon, and when I am not so clear minded, I then do those mechanical things like orchestration and score preparation.” He pointed out that he did all manuscript preparation himself and that he thought it a vital part of the composer’s craft. In fact, he said he particularly enjoyed doing that kind of work. One of my favorite pictures of Pinkham is of him sitting at a table in a dark room with a desk light shining down on the manuscript he was preparing for the publisher; his writing implements (pens, ruler, etc.) are spread around him on the table (see photo).
Happily, I own several of his manuscripts prepared in his own hand; each is a work of art that is quite beautiful and shows the personal care taken in his graphic preparation. Many composers have assistants to make the final score; many use manuscript programs on a computer.
My first personal encounter with him was as the choral director and department chairman at St. Mary’s College in Notre Dame, Indiana in 1973. Our voice faculty teacher had been a paid singer in Pinkham’s church choir at King’s Chapel in Boston, where Pinkham served as music director for over 40 years. So through her initial contact, we commissioned him to write a work for our college choir and to come to campus to do some teaching and conduct the performance of his music. (See photo of us immediately following the premiere of that new work in the spring of 1973.)
It should be noted that Pinkham was possibly the most frequently commissioned choral composer of the past few decades. That, in itself, is a tribute to his musical and personal accessibility. He said that he was always being asked in interviews how one should commission a composer, and that his standard reply was for those interested to merely pick up the phone, call him directly, and to mention the amount of money for the commission. He was always a pragmatic man. Furthermore, even his music is pragmatic, since most scores were structured so that they could be performed with various instrumental and vocal combinations. He wanted his music to be performed and was not interested in creating scores that were intellectual cul-de-sacs that were rarely performed.
That 1973 commission, for choir and electronic tape, aroused my interest, which eventually led to my researching and writing an extended article on all of his music using electronic tape. This compendium of his decade of choral/electronic tape music was published in the March 1979 issue of The Choral Journal, which brought this musical style quickly to the attention of the more than 11,000 members of the American Choral Directors Association. Pinkham later told me that the article probably was the greatest influence on this relatively unknown music being frequently performed. His gratitude was later shown when he dedicated a choral work to me, and I remain thrilled by this kind gesture.
Pinkham told me an interesting story regarding the time when he first became interested in creating choral music using electronic tape. He had attended a workshop on electronic music. As part of the requirements, each participant had to compose something as the final project, which was then given an informal reading by those in the workshop. His work explored the problems of choral singing with a tape recording that is continuous and offers no flexibility for performers. After the workshop he had forgotten all about that little exercise, but was astonished (and rightly irritated) to learn that one of the class members had pilfered a copy of it, which he then publicly performed with his choir in a concert on the west coast by duplicating the written exercise. Probably the most exasperating aspect was that Pinkham believed the conductor did not have a copy of his actual electronic tape and ultimately used something of his own creation for the performance.
His first published electronic work was In the Beginning of Creation, commissioned by Westminster Choir College and written in 1970. It became an instant hit with choral conductors due to its brevity, relative simplicity, and use of verbal and nonverbal sounds created by the choir at specific timed moments above the tape recording of unusual reverberating utterances. I conducted it with several different all-state choirs from Florida to Utah, and it was always something that gave the audience a new perspective on the poignant Genesis text. Singers loved it, and its use rapidly spread. When I moved to positions as a chairman of music departments in Virginia and Colorado, I always found a way to commission Pinkham to write a new work for the school, which also brought him to campus to interact with the faculty and students. His charm, wit, and professional manner made him a guaranteed success in these environments. He had an elegant way of presenting material; I always found him to be a remarkable teacher and conductor who quickly made a positive difference in a rehearsal, even when his new musical score had a serrated edge of sharp dissonance.
Pinkham’s talent and interests were broad. As a harpsichordist, he regularly played with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. As organist, he was frequently heard as a guest on the E. Power Biggs program on CBS and as resident organist of historic King’s Chapel in Boston. As a student of legendary composers such as Piston, Copland, Honegger, Barber as well as the eminent music teacher of the 20th century, Nadia Boulanger, he absorbed ideas and techniques that served him well throughout his life.
A review of his compositions reveals an astounding number of published works. His long association with E. C. Schirmer clearly has been good for both parties. Knowing how much new music he had created, I was quite surprised when he told me how difficult it was for him to begin a new work, and that for extended periods of time he would involve himself in diverse projects to avoid beginning to compose. Yet, because Pinkham was so prolific, I suspect that we will continue to see more publications in the future as the publisher catches up with his numerous and frequent submissions.
So, farewell to you, Daniel Pinkham. You were always the apotheosis of dignity and intelligence; you and your musical inventiveness will be missed. Your lifelong interest in creating music that heightened the illumination of the text has been a gift to us and future generations of musicians. That the night before your death you attended a choral concert of the premiere of your newly commissioned work, seems to be a reflection of your numerous contributions to the field. Pinkham’s writing of practical yet original music is a petard that all choral conductors hoist. We will continue to perform his choral music for many decades to come, and it will remain fresh to listeners of future generations. George F. Handel, Great Britain’s adopted musical son, once said: “I should be sorry, my lord, if I have only succeeded in entertaining them; I wished to make them better.” Somehow, I feel the same may be said for America’s indefatigable composer, Daniel Pinkham.
