Sunday, September 27, 2015
Many years ago, in Santa Cruz, I knocked on David Cope's office door, probably to get his signature on some piece of superfluous-but-obligatory bureaucratese, or possibly to get a glance at his latest piece (he was then in the habit of composing scores, in a somewhat public way, with the manuscript paper lining the walls in the conference room attached to his then-office.) He had a cassette playing in the background, Sibelius's 6th, I think. He said "I love listening to Sibelius. Even after listening to the same piece so many times, I never know exactly what is going to happen next, he never does the predictable."