The increasing precarity of arts academic jobs, combined with a much needed focus on equity and decolonisation, are de-privileging and destabilising the experimental music tradition and contemporary composer identity. As a result, composition departments are pursuing a paradox: scrambling to focus on specific marketable skills while also broadening the genres taught. After teaching in a composition department, a generalised arts department and a prison college programme, I describe methods to provide skills training for students interested in different genres, even if those genres are not the specialty of a department's faculty. These include: (1) discrete ‘levels’ of creative thought, from high-level questions of art's purpose to ground-level skills training; (2) creative process assignments, in which students plan and document their way through a prompt, developing a practical discipline into which desired skills can be incorporated; and (3) formal spaces for students to learn from each other, one-on-one, getting deeper into the similarities and differences they have. The goal is to empower students not simply via marketability, but by developing a sense of vocation without tethering creativity to employment, so that students may more realistically and more potently design their own lives in music.

Jürg Frey is at the point where the premiere of his String Quartet no. 4 at the online edition of MaerzMusik this March had the feel of the release of the newest film from a cult director. For my generation, this has largely meant someone like Quentin Tarantino or the Coen Brothers: every two to four years a new movie with sameness (recurring actors) and differences (genre) comes out, and with it a new opportunity to spend an interval of time with something carefully crafted by a unique mind with one foot in the real world and one foot out of it. We dutifully check them out, interested not just in the ‘next big thing’ but also in the moment surrounding this bit of culture.

March 2021's online MaerzMusik Festival featured a trio of events on themes of Afro-diaspora and new music: one German discussion, one English discussion and the concert ‘Afro-Modernism in Contemporary Music’, each curated by prominent American composer George Lewis. The programme of, according to the MaerzMusik website, ‘composers of the African diaspora’ was performed by Ensemble Modern, who performed the same concert in Frankfurt in November 2020. At that concert each piece was a world or German premiere, repeated for the MaerzMusik version, at which we were treated to an empty hall with a multi-HD-camera setup. It was streamed live on 24 March and available on demand for a few months following.

In two nights in New York, I saw three world premieres and four other recent pieces at two very different concerts. Friday, 15 November at Issue Project Room in Brooklyn was the concert FOR, the first of two nights called FOR/WITH curated by the trumpeter Nate Wooley. The venue was celebrating the life of its late founder, the artist Suzanne Fiol, and her work was displayed around the hall with an appropriate sense of reverence and intensity. Wooley featured a composer I admire, Eva-Maria Houben of the Wandelweiser collective, and an uncharacteristic solo trumpet piece that she wrote for him called chanting ballads. Like most of Houben's work it was stark, simple and repetitive, and seemed to place the performer in a battle with himself, its briefly sustained tones becoming daunting events, spaced as far apart from each other as they were. Unlike most of Houben's work, it took advantage of the trumpet's entire range of pitch and dynamic, which at first seems to be entirely out of place with the atmosphere of the work, but, as it goes on, one of course realizes that this is the point and there is so much in these bare, somewhat awkward trumpet sounds to listen for. Every extraneous sound – both from the trumpet and from the hall – becomes part of the piece. My mind moves to curation: does Houben's music demand more control over a concert? No phones maybe? I feel for the performer: while the work does what I love most about solo works, which is to take us out of the regular ‘concert’ feeling and give us the sense that we're witnessing a ritual with a strange tool, I then end up focusing on the performer's unintentional ornamentation. A few clammed notes: are they supposed to illustrate the fragility of the instrument, its tone and its user, or are they also intended as part of any tool's thorough exploration? I've played Houben: it's hard. I get it. But I do think the point is to be charitable as a listener and enjoy every sound equally, in an attempt to divorce oneself from preconceived notions of ‘successful’ playing. What at first seemed like quite an awkward undertaking became an empowering experience for me, and, one hopes, for Wooley as well.

In her book The Philosophical Imaginary, Michèle Le Doeuff claims philosophers use imagery precisely where their argument is at its weakest in order to provide an indistinct rhetorical space which cannot be clearly judged or criticised. Using Le Doeuff's framework, I examine programme notes: descriptive writing from programmes and grant applications that often tie the music to an extra-musical source of meaning. I point out instances where what is at stake in the work shifts from place to place, performing a determined meaning for the genre's outsiders, but indicating semantic superfluity to insiders who will tangibly judge the music on search committees and grant panels. After discussing genre theory and the history of new music, I argue that this imagery has a deeper social function: to gain social capital by performing diversity while maintaining the cultural power afforded by the genre's roots in hegemonic formalism.