Composer  Allan  Blank

A Conversation with Bruce Duffie



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Allan Blank (December 27, 1925 – November 12, 2013) was an American composer who has more than 60 published works. He attended the Juilliard School of Music (1945–47) and obtained a bachelor's degree from Washington Square College (1948). He received a master's degree from the University of Minnesota (1970) and also studied at the University of Iowa. He was a violinist in the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra (1950–52). He taught composition at Western Illinois University (1966–68), Paterson State Teachers College (1968–70), Lehman College (1970–77), and at Virginia Commonwealth University (1978–96).

In 1985 he received a commission from the New York State Council on the Arts' Presenting Organization to compose "Quintet for Clarinet and String Quartet" for the Roxbury Chamber Players. Other awards include the First Prize in the George Eastman Competition (1985) sponsored by the Eastman School of Music for his "Duo for Bassoon & Piano", and a grant (1985) from the National Endowment for the Arts to support his one-act opera, The Magic Bonbons. The Virginia Shakespeare Festival at Williamsburg commissioned Blank to write music for their production of Measure For Measure. In 1990 he was awarded a grant from the Virginia Commission for the Arts to commission his "Concerto for Clarinet and String Orchestra." The concerto was premiered by David Niethamer with the Richmond Symphony Orchestra, George Manahan, conductor, and was recorded on MMC Recordings in 1994 by Niethamer, with the Silesian Philharmonic Orchestra, Jerzy Swoboda, conductor.

Blank died at the age of 87 on November 12, 2013, due to complications from the effects of a brain tumor. He was predeceased by his wife, artist Margot Blank, a Holocaust survivor, whose papers are archived at the Virginia Holocaust Museum in Richmond. In 2017 Old Dominion University honored composer Blank with a concert. The composition notebooks of Allan Blank are archived at Old Dominion University.

==  Names which are links in this box and below refer to my interviews elsewhere on my website.  BD  


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In June of 1995, in preparation for a program celebrating his 70th birthday, I made contact with composer Allan Blank, and he graciously allowed me to call him on the telephone for an interview.  Portions were aired on WNIB, Classical 97 later that year, and again five years later.

Now, in 2026, I am pleased to present the entire conversation.


Bruce Duffie:   You’ve been a composer and a teacher for many, many years.  How do you divide your time between those two taxing activities?

Allan Blank:   [Laughs]  I was born in New York City, and I found  myself at a point in my mid-twenties that I was teaching there.  I started out teaching in junior high schools and the high school, and I found out that if I wanted to compose, I had better do it every single day.  I really developed a very firm discipline, and would give it part of my day.  When I first started to teach in the junior high schools, I would compose from 3 PM until about 5 or 6 PM.  Then I might work a little bit in the evening after dinner, and it has gone on like that continually.  I would also work on the weekends.  I really tried to maintain a daily schedule, and I must say that it’s very, very rare that I go for extended periods without doing something related to my work.  I am not one for working very long hours at one time, but I will work very intensively, and then move away from it to do some other things, and then come back to it again.  That’s generally been my approach.  Since 1978 I’ve been at the Junior Commonwealth University, and I follow exactly the same procedure.  Of course, the schedules are different, and sometimes I can work for an hour or so in the morning before I go in to school.  Then I work again when I come back in the evening.  So, I manage to put in time every day, and on the weekends, too.

BD:   When you start to work, can you command the ideas to come, or do you resurrect ideas that you’ve thought of at other times when you’ve not been able to jot them down?  [Vis-à-vis the recording shown at left, see my interviews with David Stock, M. William Karlins, and Gilbert Kalish.]

Blank:   I’ve kept notebooks for many, many years.  I will sketch things out in notebooks, either actual statements about what I’m interested in doing as reminders for me, and in some cases little musical ideas.  So I do try to hold onto the things that shoot through my mind, and I’ve learned to try to bring them to the front of my mind when I need them.

BD:   When you were teaching junior high school, were you leading the band and orchestra?

Blank:   I worked in junior high schools for four years.  One year at one school, and for three years I was in charge of a program where I taught all instruments and conducted the band.  The orchestra was kind of a combination, doing band music with violins!  [Both laugh]

BD:   When you were teaching at that level, were your ideas for your compositions significantly different than they are now that you are teaching at the collegiate level?

Blank:   I don’t think there’s ever been a specific relationship between where I’ve been teaching and what kind of music I was writing.  I am not the kind of composer who generally writes with the notion of writing for children, or writing for schools, though I have written some works that could be used that way.  In some of my first teaching, I was involved in writing a string quartet which was very difficult from a compositional point of view.  I was teaching the most rudimentary things in the school, so there was never any direct relationship.  It’s as if I were two different people!

BD:   As you’re working with the ideas that come to you, are you always controlling where those ideas lead, or do you sometimes follow their direction?

Blank:   That’s a very big question, and I have swung in many different directions.  For the most part, my thinking at present comes back to a point that I like to feel as if I’m going to be surprised, and I don’t always know where something is going to take me.  So I like to ride on the idea and see where it will go.  As one learns more about one’s material, I feel freer to allow the ideas to grow, and to take the turns that they want to.  That freedom is a wonderful experience, and an adventure that I don’t want to give up.  There have been periods where I try to pre-plan a great deal, and a number of my works going back thirty years were based on a lot of pre-planning.  It’s not that I don’t do it now, but when something wants to go its own way, I just hold on and let it go.  [Both laugh]

BD:   Is it really surprising where it takes you?

Blank:   Sometimes yes, and then  other times... not that it’s less surprising, but one develops fingerprints, and you begin to see the signs of them.  Those fingerprints are what we begin to call one’s style, or one’s idiosyncrasies, or one’s hang-ups!  [Both laugh]

BD:   Are you finding that these free-ranging ideas work themselves out, or are they starting to be a little bit predictable, so that you sometimes know ahead of time where they’re going to go?

Blank:   No, no!  There may be approaches on other levels.  Maybe, for example, I’ll choose certain harmonies with recalled choices I’ve made in the past, but generally I’m not interested in that kind of predictability.  I want it to just go where it wants to go.  However, it depends on the kind of form you’re working with, because sometimes there is a form of structure where you know that you want to go to a certain point, and you drive the music to those points.

BD:   Are there times when you get an idea, say, for a string quartet, and it turns out that the idea might be perfect for, say, a piano sonata?

Blank:   That brings up a totally different kind of question, and an interesting one in my case.  The history of my writing has been that I generally work on several pieces at the same time.  I can carry something through for several weeks, and then I reach a point where I may just become fatigued, and I’ll have something else that I pick up and work on.  That has been a habit with me for many, many, many years.  Works may have ideas that overlap into one another, but they do tend to develop into the unique shape of what the finished work happens to be.  But it’s very rare that I’ll actually just work on one piece from beginning to end without thinking about other things.  It’s impossible.  This is where teaching, and the experiences of working with a lot of different kinds of music play a large role in terms of the way my whole thinking takes place.  I teach analysis, so I’m working with many different kinds of styles in terms of the classroom and of a new music ensemble which I conduct.  So music of different periods, and even of our own period, are running through my mind continually.

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BD:   When you start to write a piece, do you know about how long it will take to complete the compositional process?

Blank:   No, unless it’s a shorter piece.  Then I have a general notion of what might be involved.  I like to write for the voice and for the chorus, so in cases like that I may have a general notion.  But when I deal with a so-called abstract piece, I have no notion of where it’s going to take me, or how long it’s going to take me.  Sometimes I’m surprised!  I remember back in the late 1980s, I wrote a work called Concertino for String Orchestra.  It’s a short work of about eight and a half minutes, in three movements, and I actually sketched out the entire line of the piece in one weekend.  I was absolutely flabbergasted that I had worked so quickly.  But these are not things that generally happen.  That doesn’t mean the piece was finished, but I could tell from the materials that I knew the entire piece within that weekend.  [Recording shown at right.  Also, see my interviews with Monroe Couper, and Leslie Bassett.]

BD:   Did you stick with the outline?

Blank:   Oh yes, definitely.  I may have made minor changes, but I knew where the piece was going, and what the material was like.

BD:   When you’re working with it and sketching it out, you get to the end of the piece and you go back and fiddle with it, and make adjustments.  How do you know when it’s done?

Blank:   One senses that you have said what you’ve wanted to say, and that the material has lived out its course, so to speak.  It’s had its run, and it’s out of breath.

BD:   Do you set it aside and come back to it, or do you know that it’s finished and that’s it?

Blank:   Sometimes I will set it aside for a bit.  I’m very much concerned with wanting to experience the piece when it is fresh.  So even when I’m very close to the end, sometimes I’ll just stop and put it aside for a couple of days while I’m working on something else.  Then I
ll go back and try to experience the piece again, and calculate whether some of the timing elements have been worked out properly or not.  But I generally know when it’s finished.  I don’t think that I’ve ever had a problem of knowing when it ends.  With longer works, the issues include where you want to take some of the material, how the material flowers, to what extent you want it to blossom, or what do you want the piece to do when it’s two or three minutes into itself.  You must consider how many ideas you want within it, and if its a dramatic piece, then what is the range of conflict that you want within it.  Those inner issues are much more challenging than to know when I feel that it’s run its course.

BD:   When you’re thinking about all of these things, are you manipulating the music or are you making the music manipulate your audience that will hear the work?

Blank:   I don’t think in terms of the audience.  I’m thinking in terms of the materials, and the way I respond to the material.  I’m thinking of myself in the dual role of the creator of the music and as the listener and performer of the music.  I always place myself in that position.

BD:   Are you ever conscious of the audience at all?

Blank:   No, I’m not conscious of it in that sense.  If you want to say that I internalize the audience into that part of myself, which is the listener, then I am the audience, but I am the critical listener.  I am not the passive listener.  I am the listener who is really riding with the music, not the listener who is just allowing things to go by.

BD:   As the listener, are you ever too critical?

Blank:   Yes, I think so.  That happens when I’m very much involved in the piece, and I feel like I may not be able to evaluate some moves that I’ve made.  The solution for me is to just put it aside for a while and experience it fresh.  I trust my musical instincts, and that’s how I try to deal with those issues at that particular point.

BD:   When the piece is all written and the parts are copied out, and you go to a rehearsal or two, are you ever surprised by what you hear?
 
Blank:   No.  I have never made mistakes of that nature.  I’ve never had that kind of experience.  What surprises I do have would be that I have to adjust a tempo somewhat, or I have to adjust a balance in terms on dynamics.  But these are performance problems, not conceptual problems.  I don’t bring the piece out until I feel that I know what I’m going to get.

BD:   Are you’re always right?

Blank:   I don’t know if I would use the word ‘right’, because that’s a value judgment.  But that’s what I assume I would get.

BD:   Do you allow or encourage interpretation on the part of the performers?

Blank:   Oh, yes, but not with the notion that I write free music where it’s based on improvisation in any sense... although I have parts within pieces where there are some elements along those lines.  There is interpretation, sure, but this is flexibility in terms of tempo, or a slightly different feeling in terms of articulation or balance and dynamics.  But I really work it out very, very carefully before I bring it out.  I have a feeling and a strong notion of what it is I want.  I don’t work in terms of guesses.  So when I put it in front of the players, they won
t try it another way.  That doesn’t work.  I do remember a case where I called for a mute on some string instruments, and in terms of the balance it didn’t quite work.  When I heard it I thought it would be better without the mutes.  But with regards to structure, I don’t remember ever changing something along those lines.
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BD:   Do you want every performance to be an exact duplicate of any other performance?
 
Blank:   I don’t believe that’s possible at all.  They have to adhere to my general tempo and character of the material, but the players, through their very nature, will bring out emphasis a bit differently.  So, the sense of sound and tone and warmth or coolness towards the line will vary.  All kinds of individual aspects will take place, which is fine.

BD:   Have you basically been pleased with the performances you’ve heard?

Blank:   Yes, for the most part, I have been.

BD:   You’re very lucky!

Blank:   Yes.

BD:   Quite a number of your works have been recorded, and those, of course, will be exactly the same each time they are played.  Is that a good thing, a bad thing, or just a thing?

Blank:   It’s a thing.  [Both laugh]  I’d love to go back and rework some in terms of the interpretation, and the sound, and the balance of some of my earlier things, especially some of the ones on CRI.  For example, my Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird I’d love to be able to do again.  This is not that I would change the piece, but I remember we had so much trouble because of the hall we were in, and the kinds of balances we had.  Now it could be handled a little bit differently.

BD:   But that sounds like a somewhat minor thing.  I trust you don’t disown that recording?  
[Vis-à-vis the recording shown at left, see my interviews with Arthur Weisberg, and Noel Lee.]

Blank:   No, no, I don’t disown it, but now with CDs and the kinds of sounds we can get, it’s a difference of an additional almost thirty-five years of technology.

BD:   [With a wink]  I assume you wouldn’t want to add a fourteenth way of looking at it?

Blank:   [Bursts out laughing]  No!

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BD:   We
re talking about the creation of music, and you say you don’t think about the listeners except yourself as an audience, so let me ask the big question.  What is the purpose of music?

Blank:   First of all, for me the purpose of music is to somehow move the spirit in touch with the spirit of a person.  If you ask me what that spirit is, I don’t know if I can give you any kind of profound definition of what I want to see there.  But one knows when you hear something that moves you.  You know that there is something in the relationship of the sound, and the way the composer has conceived his material that touches you, and draws you in, and wants you to follow and get on his track and stay with him.  I’m very much concerned with that.  That is the kind of music which has the greatest meaning for me.  There are many others kinds of things that music can do, such as entertain, and stimulate, and challenge the mind, and I don’t negate any of that.  But for me to touch the spirit in some way, to feel as if music is saying something and has some kind of emotional meaning, that is the primary function of its value.

BD:   Has your idea of this meaning changed at all over the twenty, thirty, forty years?

Blank:   It only gets richer and richer, and is continually confirmed when I hear things about how it touched me that way.  Of course, I’ve come to understand other possibilities of music’s experience.  Music can also engage and charm, or be able to entertain.  Music can also show off the performer.  So there are many different subunits of delight, but the first is the deeper, the more profound one, which is music that touches.

BD:   Is there a balance between this depth and other subunits?

Blank:   The way I try to deal with balance in the various kinds of works that I’m writing at any one moment within myself is how I want to move from something which deals with a serious expression to something that might take on a totally different aspect for a thought or meaning.  I’m very conscious of doing something heavy, something light, or something in between.  When I said that I work on a number of things at one time, that’s one of the ways I’m able to handle it, because the works generally have nothing in common with one another.  Right now I am working on a violin concerto, and at the same time I am doing something for children’s chorus.  So, there is no relationship between the two.  It is a totally new world of sound, and a totally different world of emotionalism.

BD:   So that keeps you fresh?

Blank:   I don’t know if it keeps me fresh, but it certainly keeps me in a state of balance that I find helpful.  There are some composers who, when they’re working on one thing, that’s the only thing they’re filled with.  What happens in my case is that I have to deal with so many things.  As a composition teacher, I see a great deal of music of my students all the time.  So I’m involved in many different kinds of stylistic gestations, and I am pressed to retain an enormous amount of intellectual fluidity, so to speak, in the way a student might go with his piece.  All of these things seem to feed into one another, or have to be screened out of my own thoughts when it comes to my work.

BD:   It sounds like it’s a difficult balancing act.

Blank:   It is a very difficult balancing act, but in the last fifteen or twenty years I have been able to hold it very clearly together.
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BD:   What advice do you have for the young composer coming along?

Blank:   It’s a tough road.  It’s a very, very tough road.

BD:   Is it too tough?

Blank:   That depends on one’s character and one’s determination.  I have found it very tough.  It’s not been easy in any aspect.  We’re lucky when a piece seems to move along very nicely, but there are times when you’re really sweating something out.  You’re searching for something, and it’s hard to find exactly what you want.  It depends on what your standards are in terms of what you want.

BD:   Does all this change when you have a deadline looming?

Blank:   Generally, I’m pretty good with that.  I’ve had deadlines, but I try to get there before, so that has not been a problem.  I’d rather have more on my plate than less.

BD:   So, you’re seeking out more commissions?

Blank:   It’s always nice to know that you’re writing something that will be played, but you don’t always know that.

BD:   Are there circumstances when you would not accept a commission?

Blank:   It’s never been the case with me.  [Returning to the idea of advice]  It’s terribly important to develop a disciplined approach, and for me, that means every day I do something relating to the music.  If you can link up with performers who have some interest in your work, so they can know you’re writing something that can have an immediate performance, that’s always helpful.  Seek out performers who are interested in you, and who are interested in championing new music.

BD:   That leads me to my next question.  What advice do you have for performers of new music, either your music or that of others?

Blank:   [Laughs]  Play more of it, and play it more often!  I’ve had a few very devoted performers who have played my works, and have enjoyed them, and have gone back to them.  I could use more, but I’ve had some, so that has been fine.

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BD:   You mentioned a choral work, so tell me the joys and sorrows of writing for the human voice.

Blank:   I love it!  It comes primarily from my primary instinct, which is the violin.  I’m very much line-orientated, and I just have great fun for the voice.  Some of the first things of mine to have been recorded are works that use the voice.  These include Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, and Two Parables by Franz Kafka, and one simply called Tone by e e cummings.  All are instrumental and vocal works, so that has always been something I’ve enjoyed a great deal.  To this very day, I do find it hard to find texts that really seem to be right for me.  I tend to be very fussy, and fundamentally that comes down to one thing.  Does the text have a spark within it which seems to call out for music?  I read a lot of poetry and a lot of other literature, and to try to find things that I feel will attract me.  I just find it very difficult to choose.

BD:   Do you have to make sure that there’s room for addition?

Blank:   Room for addition, and room for a personal spark.  It’s a very individual experience of what set of words or what kind of imagery will set you off.

BD:   Can we assume that some poems may touch you, but you feel they are complete?

Blank:   Yes, if by being complete in themselves you mean do not call out for music.

BD:   Right.

Blank:   Then I just bypass them.  That’s all.  [After a short pause, he spoke briefly about a few other works, some of which had been, or were about to be recorded.]  
There’s a work for ten wind instruments which I call Polymorphics.  It was commissioned here in Richmond by a group at our sister university, the University of Richmond.  There’s a group there called Currents, which is a modern music group made up primarily of members from the Richmond Symphony Orchestra.  The work was commissioned for this particular combination.  I consider it one of my major works.  Another work which I mentioned before is the Concertino for String Orchestra.  This is a totally different style, and it is due out soon on Opus One.  Then this past December I had two works recorded in Katowice, Poland.  One was a short orchestral piece which I call Overture for a Happy Occasion.  It was actually premiered here with the Richmond Symphony Orchestra with our new conductor George Manahan who was starting his first season.  It was recorded by the Silesian Philharmonic, and then there is a Concerto for Clarinet and String Orchestra, another work that I consider one of my larger and more important works.  Those two will be out early next year on the MMC label.

BD:   Then there is the Orion record...

Blank:   Yes.  I’ve written three big solo violin sonatas, and that LP has one.

BD:   I’ve been able to get a couple of other things from used record stores.  I just picked up a copy of BICINIUM 2, for bassoon and clarinet.  Would you pronounce the name for me?

Blank:   Bee-chin-ee-um.  [Bicinium 3 for clarinet and bass clarinet is on a different CD, and both are shown below.]  And how about Two Studies for Brass Quintet on Trilogy Records, with the Iowa Brass Quintet.


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BD
:   I have that, and also the North/South CD with Max Lifchitz.

Blank:   Right.  That is the Toccata [shown below].

BD:   Then there’s a piece on the CRS label...

Blank:   Oh yes, that’s my bassoon and piano piece.  The first year I was here in Richmond, I wrote three pretty big pieces for bassoon and piano.  That’s the only one available on CD right now, called Introduction and Rondo Fantastico.  It
s a fantastic performance, played by Arthur Weisberg.  It’s had a number of performances, and has been very well received by both bassoonists and audiences.

BD:   I’m an old bassoon player, so that piqued my interest.

Blank:   Oh, very good!  I have a very special fondness for the bassoon. I’ve written for it quite a number of times.  I have a very large work for bassoon that I’m hoping one day we can record.  Its the Concerto for Bassoon and a Large String Orchestra.  David Van Hoesen performed it with Eastman Philharmonic a number of years ago.

BD:   Thank you for spending this time with me today.  It’s been a great pleasure chatting with you.

Blank:   No problem at all!  Thank you very much.


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See my interviews with Marilyn J. Ziffrin, and Johan Franco




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See my interviews with Olly Wilson, William A. Brown, and Leo Smit




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See my interviews with Edison Denisov, Samuel Adler, Frederic Rzewski, Joan Tower, and Robert Muczynski




© 1995 Bruce Duffie

This conversation was recorded on the telephone on June 19, 1995.  Portions were broadcast on WNIB later that year, and again in 2000.  This transcription was made in 2026, and posted on this website at that time.  My thanks to British soprano Una Barry for her help in preparing this website presentation.

To see a full list (with links) of interviews which have been transcribed and posted on this website, click here.  To read my thoughts on editing these interviews for print, as well as a few other interesting observations, click here.

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Award - winning broadcaster Bruce Duffie was with WNIB, Classical 97 in Chicago from 1975 until its final moment as a classical station in February of 2001.  His interviews have also appeared in various magazines and journals since 1980, and he continued his broadcast series on WNUR-FM, as well as on Contemporary Classical Internet Radio.

You are invited to visit his website for more information about his work, including selected transcripts of other interviews, plus a full list of his guests.  He would also like to call your attention to the photos and information about his grandfather, who was a pioneer in the automotive field more than a century ago.  You may also send him E-Mail with comments, questions and suggestions.