Uploaded December 2010 | Updated September 2026, 1 day ago
Artist, composer, singer, songwriter and percussionist Norma Tanega believes that all art is about dilemma and chaos -- and about life and death -- and she's quick to admit that in her life she's seen plenty of both. After earning degrees in art from Scripps College and Claremont Graduate School in 1960 and 1962 respectively, Norma headed east to New York City in a car with a couple of other recent graduates, a suitcase, and a vague idea of making a hit record. In April 1966, "Walkin' My Cat Named Dog" climbed to number 22 on the U.S. charts. "Every place we played, stadiums, I'd sing my 3 songs and say, 'God, what am I doing here?'," she recalls. "I'm educated to be a college professor."
Shortly thereafter Ms. Tanega moved to England, where "Cat Named Dog" was number one. For 5 years she lived in the London of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, met Bob Dylan -- "It was the epitome of cool," she laughs -- and spent most of her time making music. She still says that she liked London better than any place else, but the "chaos and dilemma" eventually chased her back to Claremont. After co-owning an art gallery in Redondo Beach, she lectured as an adjunct for 16 years at California State Polytechnic University at Pomona. And she still makes music, playing a set of ceramic drums made for her by fellow musician and artist Brian Ransom. "I'd die without painting, and I'd die without making music," she says. "And I couldn't pay the mortgage without being a teacher."
Among Norma's recent musical projects is her collaboration with Robert Grajeda in The Latin Lizards, playing Latin, jazz and pop music.
"Creation is the fullest attainment of our transient spirits within the scope of our unfathomable paradox." (III from Testament by Norma Tanega, 1977-1999)
Artist, composer, singer, songwriter and percussionist Norma Tanega believes that all art is about dilemma and chaos -- and about life and death -- and she's quick to admit that in her life she's seen plenty of both. After earning degrees in art from Scripps College and Claremont Graduate School in 1960 and 1962 respectively, Norma headed east to New York City in a car with a couple of other recent graduates, a suitcase, and a vague idea of making a hit record. In April 1966, "Walkin' My Cat Named Dog" climbed to number 22 on the U.S. charts. "Every place we played, stadiums, I'd sing my 3 songs and say, 'God, what am I doing here?'," she recalls. "I'm educated to be a college professor."
Shortly thereafter Ms. Tanega moved to England, where "Cat Named Dog" was number one. For 5 years she lived in the London of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, met Bob Dylan -- "It was the epitome of cool," she laughs -- and spent most of her time making music. She still says that she liked London better than any place else, but the "chaos and dilemma" eventually chased her back to Claremont. After co-owning an art gallery in Redondo Beach, she lectured as an adjunct for 16 years at California State Polytechnic University at Pomona. And she still makes music, playing a set of ceramic drums made for her by fellow musician and artist Brian Ransom. "I'd die without painting, and I'd die without making music," she says. "And I couldn't pay the mortgage without being a teacher."
Among Norma's recent musical projects is her collaboration with Robert Grajeda in The Latin Lizards, playing Latin, jazz and pop music.
"Creation is the fullest attainment of our transient spirits within the scope of our unfathomable paradox." (III from Testament by Norma Tanega, 1977-1999)
![René Koering, Quatuor No 2nd mouvement, largo [second movement of two]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jbpD3mJL9O8/mqdefault.jpg "René Koering, Quatuor No 2nd mouvement, largo [second movement of two]
On dit et on répète à tous les compositeurs depuis Beethoven que la forme du quatuor à cordes est la chose la plus difficile (les vrais pervers, après vous avoir asséné cette vérité historique, vous font savoir que la vraie difficulté est le trio à cordes mais que ce divertissement nest réservé quà la catégorie quatre étoiles des compositeurs).
Je pense au contraire quil y a dans laustère (et brillante) gymnastique de quatuor une première « facilité* qui est celle des vois intermédiaires (situées entre le dessus et la basse) nécessaires à tout épanouissement. Et que ces deux voix (voies), tellement indispensables à la plénitude du discours ne sont vraiment exploitables que dans la formule du quatuor à cordes. En effet, le répartitions sur lambitus sont parfaites entre le do grave du violoncelle et lut ultime du violon, en passant par le second violon et le bienheureux alto. De là extrême confort du compositeur, libéré du handicap des deux mains au piano ou des innombrables pièges des jeux de cache cache à lorchestre. Là, tout est clair, chaque note est entendue et la virtuosité est lenfant de Bohême dont rêve limpétrant.
Cest pourquoi je me pose souvent le question des multiples et inutiles séductions ajoutées à la musique, depuis le piano jusquà lorchestres « gurreliederien », il existe, je le sais, le pur raffinement de la beauté « quartetisante ». Alors pourquoi hésiter ?
Parce quil est difficil dimaginer un audimat que satisfasse un éditeur, même passionné de quatuor, marié à un compositeur fécond seulement dans ce domaine. La carrière internationale et triomphante de Georges Onslow est là pous nous le rappeler. (Nata : Onslow est lauteur de 35 quatuors et 34 quintettes dans la continuité rare et appréciable de Schubert.)
Finalement je conclus, à titre personnel, que le quatuor à cordes simpose sans discussion possible au moment où la nostalgie du pays perdue ou égaré sempare de moi et que remonter à la surface, aborder les plages aux franges de lexistence, ne peut se faire quà la condition « quartettane ».
René Koering")
