(Words and Chords to Nearly 1200 Songs 9x12 Spiral Bound). Edited by Annie Patterson and Peter Blood. For Vocal. Vocal. Softcover. 304 pages. Published by Hal Leonard

(Over 850 Classical Themes and Melodies in the Original Keys) For C instrument. Format: fakebook (spiral bound). With vocal melody (excerpts) and chord names. Lassical. Series: Hal Leonard Fake Books. 646 pages. 9x12 inches. Published by Hal Leonard.

Chamber Music Piano

SKU: CF.PL1056

Composed by Clara Wieck-Schumann, Franz Schubert, and Robert Schumann. Edited by Nicholas Hopkins. Collection. With Standard notation. 128 pages. Carl Fischer Music #PL1056. Published by Carl Fischer Music (CF.PL1056).

ISBN 9781491153390. UPC: 680160910892. Transcribed by Franz Liszt.

Introduction It is true that Schubert himself is somewhat to blame for the very unsatisfactory manner in which his admirable piano pieces are treated. He was too immoderately productive, wrote incessantly, mixing insignificant with important things, grand things with mediocre work, paid no heed to criticism, and always soared on his wings. Like a bird in the air, he lived in music and sang in angelic fashion. --Franz Liszt, letter to Dr. S. Lebert (1868) Of those compositions that greatly interest me, there are only Chopin's and yours. --Franz Liszt, letter to Robert Schumann (1838) She [Clara Schumann] was astounded at hearing me. Her compositions are really very remarkable, especially for a woman. There is a hundred times more creativity and real feeling in them than in all the past and present fantasias by Thalberg. --Franz Liszt, letter to Marie d'Agoult (1838) Chretien Urhan (1790-1845) was a Belgian-born violinist, organist and composer who flourished in the musical life of Paris in the early nineteenth century. According to various accounts, he was deeply religious, harshly ascetic and wildly eccentric, though revered by many important and influential members of the Parisian musical community. Regrettably, history has forgotten Urhan's many musical achievements, the most important of which was arguably his pioneering work in promoting the music of Franz Schubert. He devoted much of his energies to championing Schubert's music, which at the time was unknown outside of Vienna. Undoubtedly, Urhan was responsible for stimulating this enthusiasm in Franz Liszt; Liszt regularly heard Urhan's organ playing in the St.-Vincent-de-Paul church in Paris, and the two became personal acquaintances. At eighteen years of age, Liszt was on the verge of establishing himself as the foremost pianist in Europe, and this awakening to Schubert's music would prove to be a profound experience. Liszt's first travels outside of his native provincial Hungary were to Vienna in 1821-1823, where his father enrolled him in studies with Carl Czerny (piano) and Antonio Salieri (music theory). Both men had important involvements with Schubert; Czerny (like Urhan) as performer and advocate of Schubert's music and Salieri as his theory and composition teacher from 1813-1817. Curiously, Liszt and Schubert never met personally, despite their geographical proximity in Vienna during these years. Inevitably, legends later arose that the two had been personal acquaintances, although Liszt would dismiss these as fallacious: I never knew Schubert personally, he was once quoted as saying. Liszt's initial exposure to Schubert's music was the Lieder, what Urhan prized most of all. He accompanied the tenor Benedict Randhartinger in numerous performances of Schubert's Lieder and then, perhaps realizing that he could benefit the composer more on his own terms, transcribed a number of the Lieder for piano solo. Many of these transcriptions he would perform himself on concert tour during the so-called Glanzzeit, or time of splendor from 1839-1847. This publicity did much to promote reception of Schubert's music throughout Europe. Once Liszt retired from the concert stage and settled in Weimar as a conductor in the 1840s, he continued to perform Schubert's orchestral music, his Symphony No. 9 being a particular favorite, and is credited with giving the world premiere performance of Schubert's opera Alfonso und Estrella in 1854. At this time, he contemplated writing a biography of the composer, which regrettably remained uncompleted. Liszt's devotion to Schubert would never waver. Liszt's relationship with Robert and Clara Schumann was far different and far more complicated; by contrast, they were all personal acquaintances. What began as a relationship of mutual respect and admiration soon deteriorated into one of jealousy and hostility, particularly on the Schumann's part. Liszt's initial contact with Robert's music happened long before they had met personally, when Liszt published an analysis of Schumann's piano music for the Gazette musicale in 1837, a gesture that earned Robert's deep appreciation. In the following year Clara met Liszt during a concert tour in Vienna and presented him with more of Schumann's piano music. Clara and her father Friedrich Wieck, who accompanied Clara on her concert tours, were quite taken by Liszt: We have heard Liszt. He can be compared to no other player...he arouses fright and astonishment. His appearance at the piano is indescribable. He is an original...he is absorbed by the piano. Liszt, too, was impressed with Clara--at first the energy, intelligence and accuracy of her piano playing and later her compositions--to the extent that he dedicated to her the 1838 version of his Etudes d'execution transcendante d'apres Paganini. Liszt had a closer personal relationship with Clara than with Robert until the two men finally met in 1840. Schumann was astounded by Liszt's piano playing. He wrote to Clara that Liszt had played like a god and had inspired indescribable furor of applause. His review of Liszt even included a heroic personification with Napoleon. In Leipzig, Schumann was deeply impressed with Liszt's interpretations of his Noveletten, Op. 21 and Fantasy in C Major, Op. 17 (dedicated to Liszt), enthusiastically observing that, I feel as if I had known you twenty years. Yet a variety of events followed that diminished Liszt's glory in the eyes of the Schumanns. They became critical of the cult-like atmosphere that arose around his recitals, or Lisztomania as it came to be called; conceivably, this could be attributed to professional jealousy. Clara, in particular, came to loathe Liszt, noting in a letter to Joseph Joachim, I despise Liszt from the depths of my soul. She recorded a stunning diary entry a day after Liszt's death, in which she noted, He was an eminent keyboard virtuoso, but a dangerous example for the young...As a composer he was terrible. By contrast, Liszt did not share in these negative sentiments; no evidence suggests that he had any ill-regard for the Schumanns. In Weimar, he did much to promote Schumann's music, conducting performances of his Scenes from Faust and Manfred, during a time in which few orchestras expressed interest, and premiered his opera Genoveva. He later arranged a benefit concert for Clara following Robert's death, featuring Clara as soloist in Robert's Piano Concerto, an event that must have been exhilarating to witness. Regardless, her opinion of him would never change, despite his repeated gestures of courtesy and respect. Liszt's relationship with Schubert was a spiritual one, with music being the one and only link between the two men. That with the Schumanns was personal, with music influenced by a hero worship that would aggravate the relationship over time. Nonetheless, Liszt would remain devoted to and enthusiastic for the music and achievements of these composers. He would be a vital force in disseminating their music to a wider audience, as he would be with many other composers throughout his career. His primary means for accomplishing this was the piano transcription. Liszt and the Transcription Transcription versus Paraphrase Transcription and paraphrase were popular terms in nineteenth-century music, although certainly not unique to this period. Musicians understood that there were clear distinctions between these two terms, but as is often the case these distinctions could be blurred. Transcription, literally writing over, entails reworking or adapting a piece of music for a performance medium different from that of its original; arrangement is a possible synonym. Adapting is a key part of this process, for the success of a transcription relies on the transcriber's ability to adapt the piece to the different medium. As a result, the pre-existing material is generally kept intact, recognizable and intelligible; it is strict, literal, objective. Contextual meaning is maintained in the process, as are elements of style and form. Paraphrase, by contrast, implies restating something in a different manner, as in a rewording of a document for reasons of clarity. In nineteenth-century music, paraphrasing indicated elaborating a piece for purposes of expressive virtuosity, often as a vehicle for showmanship. Variation is an important element, for the source material may be varied as much as the paraphraser's imagination will allow; its purpose is metamorphosis. Transcription is adapting and arranging; paraphrasing is transforming and reworking. Transcription preserves the style of the original; paraphrase absorbs the original into a different style. Transcription highlights the original composer; paraphrase highlights the paraphraser. Approximately half of Liszt's compositional output falls under the category of transcription and paraphrase; it is noteworthy that he never used the term arrangement. Much of his early compositional activities were transcriptions and paraphrases of works of other composers, such as the symphonies of Beethoven and Berlioz, vocal music by Schubert, and operas by Donizetti and Bellini. It is conceivable that he focused so intently on work of this nature early in his career as a means to perfect his compositional technique, although transcription and paraphrase continued well after the technique had been mastered; this might explain why he drastically revised and rewrote many of his original compositions from the 1830s (such as the Transcendental Etudes and Paganini Etudes) in the 1850s. Charles Rosen, a sympathetic interpreter of Liszt's piano works, observes, The new revisions of the Transcendental Etudes are not revisions but concert paraphrases of the old, and their art lies in the technique of transformation. The Paganini etudes are piano transcriptions of violin etudes, and the Transcendental Etudes are piano transcriptions of piano etudes. The principles are the same. He concludes by noting, Paraphrase has shaded off into composition...Composition and paraphrase were not identical for him, but they were so closely interwoven that separation is impossible. The significance of transcription and paraphrase for Liszt the composer cannot be overstated, and the mutual influence of each needs to be better understood. Undoubtedly, Liszt the composer as we know him today would be far different had he not devoted so much of his career to transcribing and paraphrasing the music of others. He was perhaps one of the first composers to contend that transcription and paraphrase could be genuine art forms on equal par with original pieces; he even claimed to be the first to use these two terms to describe these classes of arrangements. Despite the success that Liszt achieved with this type of work, others viewed it with circumspection and criticism. Robert Schumann, although deeply impressed with Liszt's keyboard virtuosity, was harsh in his criticisms of the transcriptions. Schumann interpreted them as indicators that Liszt's virtuosity had hindered his compositional development and suggested that Liszt transcribed the music of others to compensate for his own compositional deficiencies. Nonetheless, Liszt's piano transcriptions, what he sometimes called partitions de piano (or piano scores), were instrumental in promoting composers whose music was unknown at the time or inaccessible in areas outside of major European capitals, areas that Liszt willingly toured during his Glanzzeit. To this end, the transcriptions had to be literal arrangements for the piano; a Beethoven symphony could not be introduced to an unknowing audience if its music had been subjected to imaginative elaborations and variations. The same would be true of the 1833 transcription of Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique (composed only three years earlier), the astonishingly novel content of which would necessitate a literal and intelligible rendering. Opera, usually more popular and accessible for the general public, was a different matter, and in this realm Liszt could paraphrase the original and manipulate it as his imagination would allow without jeopardizing its reception; hence, the paraphrases on the operas of Bellini, Donizetti, Mozart, Meyerbeer and Verdi. Reminiscence was another term coined by Liszt for the opera paraphrases, as if the composer were reminiscing at the keyboard following a memorable evening at the opera. Illustration (reserved on two occasions for Meyerbeer) and fantasy were additional terms. The operas of Wagner were exceptions. His music was less suited to paraphrase due to its general lack of familiarity at the time. Transcription of Wagner's music was thus obligatory, as it was of Beethoven's and Berlioz's music; perhaps the composer himself insisted on this approach. Liszt's Lieder Transcriptions Liszt's initial encounters with Schubert's music, as mentioned previously, were with the Lieder. His first transcription of a Schubert Lied was Die Rose in 1833, followed by Lob der Tranen in 1837. Thirty-nine additional transcriptions appeared at a rapid pace over the following three years, and in 1846, the Schubert Lieder transcriptions would conclude, by which point he had completed fifty-eight, the most of any composer. Critical response to these transcriptions was highly favorable--aside from the view held by Schumann--particularly when Liszt himself played these pieces in concert. Some were published immediately by Anton Diabelli, famous for the theme that inspired Beethoven's variations. Others were published by the Viennese publisher Tobias Haslinger (one of Beethoven's and Schubert's publishers in the 1820s), who sold his reserves so quickly that he would repeatedly plead for more. However, Liszt's enthusiasm for work of this nature soon became exhausted, as he noted in a letter of 1839 to the publisher Breitkopf und Hartel: That good Haslinger overwhelms me with Schubert. I have just sent him twenty-four new songs (Schwanengesang and Winterreise), and for the moment I am rather tired of this work. Haslinger was justified in his demands, for the Schubert transcriptions were received with great enthusiasm. One Gottfried Wilhelm Fink, then editor of the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, observed of these transcriptions: Nothing in recent memory has caused such sensation and enjoyment in both pianists and audiences as these arrangements...The demand for them has in no way been satisfied; and it will not be until these arrangements are seen on pianos everywhere. They have indeed made quite a splash. Eduard Hanslick, never a sympathetic critic of Liszt's music, acknowledged thirty years after the fact that, Liszt's transcriptions of Schubert Lieder were epoch-making. There was hardly a concert in which Liszt did not have to play one or two of them--even when they were not listed on the program. These transcriptions quickly became some of his most sough-after pieces, despite their extreme technical demands. Leading pianists of the day, such as Clara Wieck and Sigismond Thalberg, incorporated them into their concert programs immediately upon publication. Moreover, the transcriptions would serve as inspirations for other composers, such as Stephen Heller, Cesar Franck and later Leopold Godowsky, all of whom produced their own transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder. Liszt would transcribe the Lieder of other composers as well, including those by Mendelssohn, Chopin, Anton Rubinstein and even himself. Robert Schumann, of course, would not be ignored. The first transcription of a Schumann Lied was the celebrated Widmung from Myrten in 1848, the only Schumann transcription that Liszt completed during the composer's lifetime. (Regrettably, there is no evidence of Schumann's regard of this transcription, or even if he was aware of it.) From the years 1848-1881, Liszt transcribed twelve of Robert Schumann's Lieder (including one orchestral Lied) and three of Clara (one from each of her three published Lieder cycles); he would transcribe no other works of these two composers. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, contrary to those of Schubert, are literal arrangements, posing, in general, far fewer demands on the pianist's technique. They are comparatively less imaginative in their treatment of the original material. Additionally, they seem to have been less valued in their day than the Schubert transcriptions, and it is noteworthy that none of the Schumann transcriptions bear dedications, as most of the Schubert transcriptions do. The greatest challenge posed by Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the composer or the nature of the transcription, was to combine the vocal and piano parts of the original such that the character of each would be preserved, a challenge unique to this form of transcription. Each part had to be intact and aurally recognizable, the vocal line in particular. Complications could be manifold in a Lied that featured dissimilar parts, such as Schubert's Auf dem Wasser zu singen, whose piano accompaniment depicts the rocking of the boat on the shimmering waves while the vocal line reflects on the passing of time. Similar complications would be encountered in Gretchen am Spinnrade, in which the ubiquitous sixteenth-note pattern in the piano's right hand epitomizes the ever-turning spinning wheel over which the soprano voice expresses feelings of longing and heartache. The resulting transcriptions for solo piano would place exceptional demands on the pianist. The complications would be far less imposing in instances in which voice and piano were less differentiated, as in many of Schumann's Lieder that Liszt transcribed. The piano parts in these Lieder are true accompaniments for the voice, providing harmonic foundation and rhythmic support by doubling the vocal line throughout. The transcriptions, thus, are strict and literal, with far fewer demands on both pianist and transcriber. In all of Liszt's Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the way in which the two parts are combined, the melody (i.e. the vocal line) is invariably the focal point; the melody should sing on the piano, as if it were the voice. The piano part, although integral to contributing to the character of the music, is designed to function as accompaniment. A singing melody was a crucial objective in nineteenth-century piano performance, which in part might explain the zeal in transcribing and paraphrasing vocal music for the piano. Friedrich Wieck, father and teacher of Clara Schumann, stressed this point repeatedly in his 1853 treatise Clavier und Gesang (Piano and Song): When I speak in general of singing, I refer to that species of singing which is a form of beauty, and which is a foundation for the most refined and most perfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, I consider the culture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch on the piano. In many respects, the piano and singing should explain and supplement each other. They should mutually assist in expressing the sublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. Much of Liszt's piano music should be interpreted with this concept in mind, the Lieder transcriptions and opera paraphrases, in particular. To this end, Liszt provided numerous written instructions to the performer to emphasize the vocal line in performance, with Italian directives such as un poco marcato il canto, accentuato assai il canto and ben pronunziato il canto. Repeated indications of cantando,singend and espressivo il canto stress the significance of the singing tone. As an additional means of achieving this and providing the performer with access to the poetry, Liszt insisted, at what must have been a publishing novelty at the time, on printing the words of the Lied in the music itself. Haslinger, seemingly oblivious to Liszt's intent, initially printed the poems of the early Schubert transcriptions separately inside the front covers. Liszt argued that the transcriptions must be reprinted with the words underlying the notes, exactly as Schubert had done, a request that was honored by printing the words above the right-hand staff. Liszt also incorporated a visual scheme for distinguishing voice and accompaniment, influenced perhaps by Chopin, by notating the accompaniment in cue size. His transcription of Robert Schumann's Fruhlings Ankunft features the vocal line in normal size, the piano accompaniment in reduced size, an unmistakable guide in a busy texture as to which part should be emphasized: Example 1. Schumann-Liszt Fruhlings Ankunft, mm. 1-2. The same practice may be found in the transcription of Schumann's An die Turen will ich schleichen. In this piece, the performer must read three staves, in which the baritone line in the central staff is to be shared between the two hands based on the stem direction of the notes: Example 2. Schumann-Liszt An die Turen will ich schleichen, mm. 1-5. This notational practice is extremely beneficial in this instance, given the challenge of reading three staves and the manner in which the vocal line is performed by the two hands. Curiously, Liszt did not use this practice in other transcriptions. Approaches in Lieder Transcription Liszt adopted a variety of approaches in his Lieder transcriptions, based on the nature of the source material, the ways in which the vocal and piano parts could be combined and the ways in which the vocal part could sing. One approach, common with strophic Lieder, in which the vocal line would be identical in each verse, was to vary the register of the vocal part. The transcription of Lob der Tranen, for example, incorporates three of the four verses of the original Lied, with the register of the vocal line ascending one octave with each verse (from low to high), as if three different voices were participating. By the conclusion, the music encompasses the entire range of Liszt's keyboard to produce a stunning climactic effect, and the variety of register of the vocal line provides a welcome textural variety in the absence of the words. The three verses of the transcription of Auf dem Wasser zu singen follow the same approach, in which the vocal line ascends from the tenor, to the alto and to the soprano registers with each verse. Fruhlingsglaube adopts the opposite approach, in which the vocal line descends from soprano in verse 1 to tenor in verse 2, with the second part of verse 2 again resuming the soprano register; this is also the case in Das Wandern from Mullerlieder. Gretchen am Spinnrade posed a unique problem. Since the poem's narrator is female, and the poem represents an expression of her longing for her lover Faust, variation of the vocal line's register, strictly speaking, would have been impractical. For this reason, the vocal line remains in its original register throughout, relentlessly colliding with the sixteenth-note pattern of the accompaniment. One exception may be found in the fifth and final verse in mm. 93-112, at which point the vocal line is notated in a higher register and doubled in octaves. This sudden textural change, one that is readily audible, was a strategic means to underscore Gretchen's mounting anxiety (My bosom urges itself toward him. Ah, might I grasp and hold him! And kiss him as I would wish, at his kisses I should die!). The transcription, thus, becomes a vehicle for maximizing the emotional content of the poem, an exceptional undertaking with the general intent of a transcription. Registral variation of the vocal part also plays a crucial role in the transcription of Erlkonig. Goethe's poem depicts the death of a child who is apprehended by a supernatural Erlking, and Schubert, recognizing the dramatic nature of the poem, carefully depicted the characters (father, son and Erlking) through unique vocal writing and accompaniment patterns: the Lied is a dramatic entity. Liszt, in turn, followed Schubert's characterization in this literal transcription, yet took it an additional step by placing the register of the father's vocal line in the baritone range, that of the son in the soprano range and that of the Erlking in the highest register, options that would not have been available in the version for voice and piano. Additionally, Liszt labeled each appearance of each character in the score, a means for guiding the performer in interpreting the dramatic qualities of the Lied. As a result, the drama and energy of the poem are enhanced in this transcription; as with Gretchen am Spinnrade, the transcriber has maximized the content of the original. Elaboration may be found in certain Lieder transcriptions that expand the performance to a level of virtuosity not found in the original; in such cases, the transcription approximates the paraphrase. Schubert's Du bist die Ruh, a paradigm of musical simplicity, features an uncomplicated piano accompaniment that is virtually identical in each verse. In Liszt's transcription, the material is subjected to a highly virtuosic treatment that far exceeds the original, including a demanding passage for the left hand alone in the opening measures and unique textural writing in each verse. The piece is a transcription in virtuosity; its art, as Rosen noted, lies in the technique of transformation. Elaboration may entail an expansion of the musical form, as in the extensive introduction to Die Forelle and a virtuosic middle section (mm. 63-85), both of which are not in the original. Also unique to this transcription are two cadenzas that Liszt composed in response to the poetic content. The first, in m. 93 on the words und eh ich es gedacht (and before I could guess it), features a twisted chromatic passage that prolongs and thereby heightens the listener's suspense as to the fate of the trout (which is ultimately caught). The second, in m. 108 on the words Betrogne an (and my blood boiled as I saw the betrayed one), features a rush of diminished-seventh arpeggios in both hands, epitomizing the poet's rage at the fisherman for catching the trout. Less frequent are instances in which the length of the original Lied was shortened in the transcription, a tendency that may be found with certain strophic Lieder (e.g., Der Leiermann, Wasserflut and Das Wandern). Another transcription that demonstrates Liszt's readiness to modify the original in the interests of the poetic content is Standchen, the seventh transcription from Schubert's Schwanengesang. Adapted from Act II of Shakespeare's Cymbeline, the poem represents the repeated beckoning of a man to his lover. Liszt transformed the Lied into a miniature drama by transcribing the vocal line of the first verse in the soprano register, that of the second verse in the baritone register, in effect, creating a dialogue between the two lovers. In mm. 71-102, the dialogue becomes a canon, with one voice trailing the other like an echo (as labeled in the score) at the distance of a beat. As in other instances, the transcription resembles the paraphrase, and it is perhaps for this reason that Liszt provided an ossia version that is more in the nature of a literal transcription. The ossia version, six measures shorter than Schubert's original, is less demanding technically than the original transcription, thus representing an ossia of transcription and an ossia of piano technique. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, in general, display a less imaginative treatment of the source material. Elaborations are less frequently encountered, and virtuosity is more restricted, as if the passage of time had somewhat tamed the composer's approach to transcriptions; alternatively, Liszt was eager to distance himself from the fierce virtuosity of his early years. In most instances, these transcriptions are literal arrangements of the source material, with the vocal line in its original form combined with the accompaniment, which often doubles the vocal line in the original Lied. Widmung, the first of the Schumann transcriptions, is one exception in the way it recalls the virtuosity of the Schubert transcriptions of the 1830s. Particularly striking is the closing section (mm. 58-73), in which material of the opening verse (right hand) is combined with the triplet quarter notes (left hand) from the second section of the Lied (mm. 32-43), as if the transcriber were attempting to reconcile the different material of these two sections. Fruhlingsnacht resembles a paraphrase by presenting each of the two verses in differing registers (alto for verse 1, mm. 3-19, and soprano for verse 2, mm. 20-31) and by concluding with a virtuosic section that considerably extends the length of the original Lied. The original tonalities of the Lieder were generally retained in the transcriptions, showing that the tonality was an important part of the transcription process. The infrequent instances of transposition were done for specific reasons. In 1861, Liszt transcribed two of Schumann's Lieder, one from Op. 36 (An den Sonnenschein), another from Op. 27 (Dem roten Roslein), and merged these two pieces in the collection 2 Lieder; they share only the common tonality of A major. His choice for combining these two Lieder remains unknown, but he clearly recognized that some tonal variety would be needed, for which reason Dem roten Roslein was transposed to C>= major. The collection features An den Sonnenschein in A major (with a transition to the new tonality), followed by Dem roten Roslein in C>= major (without a change of key signature), and concluding with a reprise of An den Sonnenschein in A major. A three-part form was thus established with tonal variety provided by keys in third relations (A-C>=-A); in effect, two of Schumann's Lieder were transcribed into an archetypal song without words. In other instances, Liszt treated tonality and tonal organization as important structural ingredients, particularly in the transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder cycles, i.e. Schwanengesang, Winterreise a...

Concert Band/Harmonie and Piano

SKU: BT.BMP8091417

Composed by Leroy Anderson. Arranged by Jörg Murschinski. Set (Score & Parts). Composed 2008. Beriato Music #BMP8091417. Published by Beriato Music (BT.BMP8091417).

A lot is known about the American composer Leroy Anderson. This son of Swedish immigrants played the piano, organ, accordion, trombone, tuba and double bass. He spoke several languages fluently and graduated from Harvard with first-class honours.While on military service, the army also commissioned him to write a manual on Icelandic grammar.He already started writing musical arrangements as a student, and from his 30th year arranged and composed for the Boston Pops Orchestra. Such melodiesas Serenata, The Typewriter, Sleigh Ride and Bugler�s Holiday made him world famous. His best-known work, Blue Tango, reached number one in the US charts in 1952, and it sold more than a million copies. In 1975, a year after hisdeath, he was given a star at the Walk of Fame in Hollywood.Most of his works last no longer than three minutes, about the maximum length of a single at that time. One work that lasts longer is his 1953 Piano Concerto in C for piano and orchestra.The first performance was in Chicago, conducted by the composer and with Eugene List at the piano. However, after three performances he was no longer happy with the work and withdrew it. He always intended to revise it, but never got round to it. Itwas only in 1989 that the Anderson family decided to republish the work.This three-part composition is on the one hand characterised by a careless elegance, but on the other one can hear the influence of Rachmaninoff, Copland, Gershwin, and evenBeethoven and Mozart, as well as the Viennese classics.Anderson used the sonata form for the first movement. It ends with a cadenza that carries us on into the second part (in e minor). The third part is a typically cheerful American folk dance in2/4 time, a so-called Hoe Down, with a lilting, lyrical passage as its middle section. At the end comes a solo passage followed by a rapid close.In this piano concerto, Anderson combines a rigidly classical form of composition with simple andappealing themes and elements from light music. So this work is a perfect synthesis of light music and what is called serious music, in the same way as Gershwin�s Rhapsody in Blue. A work that can be played equally well in a concerthall, at an open-air concert or even a pop concert.

Over de Amerikaanse componist Leroy Anderson is veel bekend. Deze zoon van Zweedse immigranten speelde piano, orgel, accordeon, trombone, tuba en contrabas. Hij sprak vloeiend verschillende talen en studeerde met grote onderscheidingaf aan Harvard en schreef tijdens zijn legerdienst in opdracht van het leger een handboek grammatica Ijslands.Al in zijn studententijd begon hij met het maken van arrangementen, en vanaf zijn 30ste arrangeerde en componeerde hijvoor het Boston Pops Orchestra. Melodieën zoals Serenata, The Typewriter, Sleigh Ride en Bugler's Holiday maakte hem wereldberoemd. Zijn bekendste werk Blue Tango stond in 1952 op nummer één in de VS Charts, ener werden meer dan een miljoen exemplaren van verkocht. Een jaar na zijn dood in 1975 kreeg hij een ster op de Walk of Fame in Hollywood.Zijn meeste werken duren niet langer dan drie minuten, ongeveer de maximumduur van een singletoen. Een werk dat wel langer duurt, is het pianoconcerto in C voor piano en orkest uit 1953. Het werd in Chicago gecreëerd onder zijn leiding met Eugene List aan de piano. Na drie uitvoeringen echter, was hij niet meer tevredenover zijn werk en trok dit terug. Hij had zijn leven lang de intentie het te herwerken doch kwam er niet meer toe. Pas in 1989 besliste de Anderson Familie zijn pianoconcerto toch opnieuw uit te geven.Dit driedelige werk wordtenerzijds getypeerd door een zorgeloze elegantie, maar anderzijds zijn invloeden van Rachmaninoff, Copland, Gerschwin en zelfs Beethoven en Mozart alsook de Weense klassiekers te horen.Voor de eerste beweging, past Anderson de sonatevormtoe. Op het einde volgt een cadenza die ons in het tweede deel (in mi klein) voert. Het derde deel is een typische Amerikaanse, vrolijke volksdans in 2/4, een zogenaamde Hoe Down met als middengedeelte een zangerige, lyrische

Über den amerikanischen Komponisten Leroy Anderson lässt sich vieles berichten: Der Sohn schwedischer Immigranten spielte Klavier, Orgel, Akkordeon, Posaune, Tuba und Kontrabass, sprach neun Sprachen fließend, absolvierte mit einemMagna-cum-laude-Abschluss die Harvard Universität und verfasste während seiner Militärzeit im Zweiten Weltkrieg für die amerikanische Armee eine Grammatik des Isländischen. Schon während seiner Studentenzeit begann er zu arrangieren, ab Mitte der30er Jahre des letzten Jahrhunderts arrangierte und komponierte er für das Boston Pops Orchestra. Aus seiner Feder stammen so bekannte Werke der leichten Muse wie Serenata, The Typewriter, Sleigh Ride oder Bugler�s Holiday. Sein wohlbekanntestes Stück, Blue Tango, wurde als erste Instrumentalkomposition über eine Million Mal verkauft und belegte im Jahr 1952 Platz 1 der US-Charts. Für seine Verdienste um die Schallplattenindustrie erhielt er ein Jahr nach seinem Tod einenStern auf dem Walk of Fame in Hollywood.Charakteristisch für seine Werke ist die Dauer: die meisten sind rund drei Minuten lang � mehr passte nicht auf den damals gebräuchlichen Tonträger, eine Singleschallplatte. Nur wenige seinerKompositionen sprengen diesen Zeitrahmen. Dazu gehört sein Konzert C-Dur für Klavier und Orchester. Er komponierte es 1953, die Uraufführung fand unter seiner Leitung und mit Eugene List am Klavier im selben Jahr in Chicago statt. Da Anderson mit demWerk aber nicht zufrieden war, zog er es im Sommer 1954, nach nur drei Aufführungen, wieder ein. Er hatte zeitlebens die Absicht, es zu überarbeiten, allein, es kam nicht mehr dazu. Erst 1989 entschied sich die Anderson-Familie dazu, dasKlavierkonzert wieder zu veröffentlichen.Das dreisätzige Werk zeigt die Unbeschwertheit und Eleganz, die Andersons sämtliche Kompositionen auszeichnen. Dennoch findet man darin auch Anklänge an Komponisten wie Rachmaninoff, Copland, Gershwin, undeben Beethoven und Mozart, sowie die Wiener Klassiker. Der erste Satz folgt der Sonatenhauptsatzform. An seinem Ende steht eine Klavierkadenz, die direkt in den langsamen zweiten Satz (in e-Moll) überleitet. Der dritte Satz schließlich ist einwaschechter Hoe Down, ein fröhlicher amerikanischer Volkstanz im 2/4-Takt, in dessen Zentrum aber eine lyrisch-gesangliche Passage steht. Eine weitere Solo-Kadenz führt das Werk in einen spritzigen Schlussabschnitt.In seinem Klavierkonzertvereinigt Anderson einen klassisch-traditionellen Form- und Kompositionsstil mit Elementen der Unterhaltungsmusik und eingängigen Melodien, die schon immer sein Markenzeichen waren. Daher bildet dieses Werk eine perfekte Synthese von ernster undleichter Musik. Es passt � wie beispielsweise auch George Gershwins Rhapsody in Blue � gleichermaßen in einen vornehmen Konzertsaal, wie auch zur zwanglos-lockeren Atmosphäre einer sommerlichen Open-Air-Veranstaltung oder einesPops-Konzertes.

Nous savons beaucoup de choses sur le compositeur américain Leroy Anderson. Ce fils dimmigrants suédois jouait du piano, de lorgue, de laccordéon, du trombone, du tuba et de la contrebasse. Il parlait couramment plusieurs langues et était diplômé avec grande distinction de Harvard. Pendant son service militaire, il écrivit un manuel de grammaire islandaise commandé par larmée.Étudiant, il avait déj commencé faire des arrangements et dès l ge de 30 ans, il arrangeait et composait pour le Boston Pops Orchestra. Des mélodies telles que Serenata, The Typewriter, Sleigh Ride et Buglers Holiday lui valurent une renommée mondiale. Son uvre phare, Blue Tango, fut numéro un descharts américains en 1952 et se vendit plus dun million dexemplaires. Un an après sa mort en 1975, il eut droit son étoile sur le Walk of Fame Hollywood.La plupart de ses uvres nexcèdent pas trois minutes, soit peu près la durée maximale dun single lépoque. Son concerto en ut pour piano et orchestre de 1953 est quant lui plus long. Il fut créé Chicago sous sa direction avec Eugene List au piano. Après trois exécutions, Anderson nétait toutefois plus satisfait de son travail et le retira. Toute sa vie, il eut lintention de le remanier mais ne le fit pas. Ce nest quen 1989 que la famille Anderson décida de tout de m?me rééditer son concerto pour piano.Cette uvre en trois parties se caractérise par son élégance nonchalante mais aussi par linfluence de Rachmaninoff, Copland, Gershwin et m?me de Beethoven et Mozart, ainsi que des classiques viennois.Pour le premier mouvement, Anderson opte pour une sonate. la fin, une cadence nous conduit la deuxième partie (en mi mineur). La troisième partie est une danse populaire joyeuse et typiquement américaine en 2/4, une Hoe Down avec un passage lyrique et mélodieux en son milieu. la fin, un solo est suivi par une clôture rapide.Dans son concerto pour piano, Anderson unit une composition pure et classique des thèmes beaux et simples, sans oublier des éléments de la musique légère. Cette uvre.

By Various. Edited by Trubel, Gerhard. Hymn settings, Mass Sections, Psalms, German; Choral Collections, Mixed Choir, Music for Casuals; Occasions: Eucharist, Communion, Peace and Justice, Prayer, Wedding, Confirmation, Praise and thanks, Morning, Midday, Evening, Psalms, Baptism, Mourning, Death, Our Father; Use during church year: Advent

By Johann Sebastian / Herman Bach. Edited by Klaus Hofmann. Hymn settings, Mass Sections; Choral Collections, Mixed Choir; Occasions: Peace and Justice, Morning, Midday, Evening; Use during church year: Advent, Special Days, Epiphany, Lent and Passiontide, Holy Week, Easter and Eastertide, Ascension, Christmas. Choral collection. 80 pages. Published by Carus Verlag (German import).

Composed by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750), edited by Riemenschneider. For piano. Format: piano solo book. With piano reduction, introductory text, instructional text, lyrics and performance notes. Baroque. 184 pages. 9x12 inches. Published by Schirmer

The Book of Urizen is Jacob de Haan his first Symphony for concert band, solo soprano, and a male narrator in which sound collages of expressions are used. The piece is inspired by the compelling visionary poem of the samename (which the poet illustrated himself) by the Englishman William Blake (1757-1827). The Vision, first movement and The Creation, second movement of The Book of Urizen are available by following editionnumber: DHP 1043551. The Web, the third movement of The Book of Urizen is available by the following edition number: DHP 1125252. Download the audio samples here: track 1, track 2, track 3

In The Book of Urizen - Jacob de Haan zijn eerste symfonie voor harmonieorkest, zangstem (sopraan) en een mannelijke spreekstem - wordt gebruik gemaakt van geluidscollages. De compositie is ge nspireerd op het gelijknamigegedicht van William Blake (1757-1827). The Vision, het eerste deel en The Creation, het tweede deel van The Book of Urizen zijn beschikbaar via volgend editienummer: DHP 1043551. The Web, het derdedeel van The Book of Urizen is verkrijgbaar via editienummer: DHP 1125252. Download audiofragmenten hier: track 1, track 2, track 3

The Book of Urizen ist Jacob de Haan seine erste Symphonie für Blasorchester, Gesang (Sopran) und (männliche) Sprechstimme, in welcher Botschaften durch Geräuschcollagen wiedergegeben werden. Als Inspirationsquelle dienteder gleichnamige Gedichtzyklus des großen englischen Dichters und Malers William Blake (1757-1827). The Vision, erster Satz und The Creation, zweiter Satz von The Book of Urizen sind unter der folgendenEditionsnummer erhältlich: DHP 1043551. The Web, der dritte Satz von The Book of Urizen , ist unter der folgenden Editionsnummer erhältlich: DHP 1125252. Laden Sie hier die Audiosamples herunter: track 1, track 2,track 3

En 1794, l’écrivain, peintre, graveur, enlumineur, visionnaire et philosophe mystique anglais William Blake (1757-1827) dénonce dans The Book of Urizen (Le Livre d’Urizen), la loi de fer du monde moderne. Dans The Book ofUrizen - la première symphonie de Jacob de Haan pour Orchestre d’Harmonie, Soprano et un récitant - des collages sonores sont utilisés. The Vision, la première partie et The Creation, la deuxième partie de TheBook of Urizen sont disponibles sous le numéro d'éditionsuivant: DHP 1043551. The Web, la troisième partie de The Book of Urizen est disponible sous le numéro d'édition suivant: DHP 1125252. Télécharger lesextraits audio ici: track 1, track 2, track 3

The Book of Urizen is a work for concert band, solo soprano, and a male narrator in which sound collages of religious expressions are used. The piece is inspired by the compelling visionary poem of the same name (which the poet illustratedhimself) by the Englishman William Blake (1757-1827), who occupies a unique position in western literature and the visual arts. He was not just a poet and a writer, but he was also a graphic artist, a painter, an illustrator, a spiritualist, areligious visionary, and a mystic philosopher. For the performance of this work, a professional sound system, including two microphones and a CD player, is needed. The three sound collages are three separate tracks on the enclosed CD and can beplayed easily at the right moment. The Book of Urizen bears resemblance to Genesis and Exodus, of which the contents form the basis of the Christian, Jewish, and Islamic faith. Blake adhered to the principle that all religions are in fact one,and that deities reside in human beings. In The Book of Urizen this is represented in “The Net of Religion,” which is spanned over the earth by Urizen. The sound collages, compiled by Jacob de Haan in the studio, find their origin inJerusalem, the Holy City, where the afore-mentioned faiths “come together.” In the first movement of this composition, The Vision, Urizen prepares his vision of the world, and he presents this to the “Eternals.” His vision is rejected,and Urizen locks himself up in his own abstract world. When he does emerge again, he is confronted with rage by the gathered Eternals. Urizen flees the wrath of the Eternals, “the flames of eternal fury,” and enwombs himself in his own world. Whenthe Eternals see Urizen in his “stony sleep,” they wonder if this is death. The blacksmith Los is torn by grief because of the isolation of Urizen. It brings him to rouse his fires, prepare his forge, and to give Urizen’s world concrete form. In thesecond movement, The Creation, Urizen’s world, but also man, woman, and child are created. Los is horrified with the appearance of Urizen’s body. He mourns and pities Urizen, and from his blood a female form comes into being, with thename Enitharmon. The Eternals, fearful of the female form, decide to erect a tent to obstruct their view to eternity. Enitharmon and Los beget a son, called Orc. Los baptizes him as a child of the “fallen world.” Orc is fed at Enitharmon’s breast,which makes a girdle of jealousy restrict Los’ chest. He takes the child to the top of the mountain and chains him down. The cries of Orc awaken Urizen, who explores his world creating instruments of scientific measurement to do so. Los encircles theface of Enitharmon from the sight of Urizen and Orc. She then populates the earth by giving birth to an enormous race.The Web, third movement of The Book of Urizen is now available: DHP 1125252

Orchestra

SKU: PR.41641576L

For Really Big Orchestra. Composed by PDQ Bach. Edited by Peter Schickele. Large Score. With Standard notation. Duration 11 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #416-41576L. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.41641576L).

UPC: 680160636549. 11 x 17 inches.

The 1712 Overture stands out in P.D.Q. Bach's oeuvre for two reasons, among others: it is by far the most programmatic instrumental piece among those by the minimeister of Wein-am-Rhein so far unearthed, and 2) its discovery has led to a revelation about the composer's father, Johann Sebastian Bach, that has exploded like a bombshell on the usually serene musicological landscape. The overture is based on an anecdote told to P.D.Q. Bach by a cousin, Peter Ulrich. Since P.U. Bach lived in Dudeldorf, only a few miles down the road from Wein-am-Rhein, he was P.D.Q.'s closest relative, and he was, in fact, one of the few members of the family who was on speaking terms with P.D.Q. The story, related to P.D.Q. (fortunately for us posterity types) in a letter, may be summarized thus: The town of Dudeldorf was founded by two brothers, Rudi and Dieter Dudel, early in the 18th century. Rudi remained mayor of the newborn burg for the rest of his long life, but Dieter had a dream of starting a musicians' colony, an entire city devoted to music, which dream, he finally decided, could be realized only in the New World. In 1712, he and several other bagpipers sailed to Boston, never to return to Germany. (Henceforth, Rudi became known as der deutscher Dudel and Dieter as the Yankee Dudel). Unfortunately, the head of the Boston Musicians' Guild had gotten wind of Dudel's plans, and Wilhelm Wiesel (pron. VEE-zle), known none too affectionately around town as Wiesel the Weasel, was not about to share what few gigs there were in colonial America with more foreigners and outside agitators. He and his cronies were on hand to meet Dudel's boat when it pulled into Boston Harbor; they intended to prevent the newcomers' disembarkation, but Dudel and his companions managed to escape to the other side of the bay in a dinghy, landing with just enough time to rent a carriage and horses before hearing the sound of The Weasel and his men, who had had to come around the long way. The Germans headed West, with the Bostonians in furious pursuit. soon the city had been left far behind, and by midnight so had the pursuers; Dieter Dudel decided that it was safe for him and his men to stop and sleep until daybreak. When they awoke, they found that they were in a beautiful landscape of low, forested mountains and pleasant fields, warmed by the brilliant morning sun and serenaded by an entrancing variety of birds. Here, Dudel thought, her is where I will build my colony. The immigrants continued down the road at a leisurely pace until they came upon a little church, all by itself in the countryside, from which there suddenly emanated the sounds of a pipe organ. At this point, the temptation to quote from P.U. Bach's letter to P.D.Q. cannot be resisted: They went inside and, after listening to the glorious music for a while, introduced themselves to the organist. And who do you think it was? Are you ready for this -- it was your old man! Hey, no kidding -- you know, I'm sure, that your father was the guy to get when it came to testing new organs, and whoever had that one in Massachusetts built offered old Sebastian a tidy sum to go over there and check it out. The unexpected meeting with J.S. Bach and his sponsors was interrupted by the sound of horse hooves, as the dreaded Wiesel and his men thundered on to the scene. They had been riding all night, however, and they were no spring chickens to start with, and as soon as they reached the church they all dropped, exhausted, to the ground. The elated Germans rang the church bells and offered to buy everyone a beer at the nearest tavern. There they were taught, and joined in singing, what might be called the national anthem of the New World. The melody of this pre-revolutionary patriotic song is still remembered (P.D.Q. Bach quotes it, in the bass instruments, near the end of the overture), but is words are now all but forgotten: Freedom, of thee we sing, Freedom e'er is our goal; Death to the English King, Long live Rock and Ross. The striking paucity of biographical references to Johann Sebastian Bah during the year 1712 can now be explained: he was abroad for a significant part of that year, testing organs in the British Colonies. That this revelation has not been accepted as fact by the musicological establishment is no surprise, since it means that a lot of books would have to be rewritten. The members of that establishment haven't even accepted the existence of P.D.Q. Bach, one of whose major works the 1712 Overture certainly is. It is also a work that shows Tchaikowsky up as the shameless plagiarizer that some of us have always known he was. The discovery of this awesome opus was made possible by a Boston Pops Centennial Research Commission; the first modern performance took place at the opening concert of the 100th anniversary season of that orchestra, under the exciting but authentic direction of John Williams.

Chamber Music Viola 1, Viola 2, Violin 1, Violin 2, Violoncello

SKU: PR.11441690S

String Quartet No. 3. Composed by Shulamit Ran. Sws. Contemporary. Full score. With Standard notation. Composed March 9 2013. 32 pages. Duration 23 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #114-41690S. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.11441690S).

UPC: 680160626021. 9 x 12 inches.

Ran's third string quartet was written for the Pacifica Quartet, who are featuring it in numerous performances from May 2014 through February 2016, across the country and abroad. Their blog page dedicated to the work also features the composer's notes, for more indepth insight. ...impassioned solos emerge from ominous quiet, and high arpeggios in the violins quiver alongside the earthy cello. Ms. Ran skillfully deploys these extremes of color, volume and pitch, yet the overall somewhat chilly impression is one of poise. -- Zachary Woolfe, The New York Times.
My third string quartet was composed at the invitation of the Pacifica Quartet, whose music-making I have come to know closely and admire hugely as resident artists at the University of Chicago.  Already in our early conversations Pacifica proposed that this quartet might, in some manner, refer to the visual arts as a point of germination.  Probing further, I found out that the quartet members had special interest in art created during the earlier part of the 20th century, perhaps between the two world wars.  It was my good fortune to have met, a short while later, while in residence at the American Academy in Rome in the fall of 2011, art conservationist Albert Albano who steered me to the work of Felix Nussbaum (1904-1944), a German-Jewish painter who, like so many others, perished in the Holocaust at a young age, and who left some powerful, deeply moving art that spoke to the life that was unraveling around him. The title of my string quartet takes its inspiration from a major exhibit devoted to art by German artists of the period of the Weimar Republic (1919-1933) titled “Glitter and Doom: German Portraits from the 1920s”, first shown at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2006-07.  Nussbaum would have been a bit too young to be included in this exhibit.  His most noteworthy art was created in the last very few years of his short life.  The exhibit’s evocative title, however, suggested to me the idea of “Glitter, Doom, Shards, Memory” as a way of framing a possible musical composition that would be an homage to his life and art, and to that of so many others like him during that era.  Knowing that their days were numbered, yet intent on leaving a mark, a legacy, a memory, their art is triumph of the human spirit over annihilation. Parallel to my wish to compose a string quartet that, typically for this genre, would exist as “pure music”, independent of a narrative, was my desire to effect an awareness in my listener of matters which are, to me, of great human concern.  To my mind there is no contradiction between the two goals.  As in several other works composed since 1969, this is my way of saying ‘do not forget’, something that, I believe, can be done through music with special power and poignancy.    The individual titles of the quartet’s four movements give an indication of some of the emotional strands this work explores. 1) “That which happened” (das was geschah) – is how the poet Paul Celan referred to the Shoah – the Holocaust.  These simple words served for me, in the first movement, as a metaphor for the way in which an “ordinary” life, with its daily flow and its sense of sweet normalcy, was shockingly, inhumanely, inexplicably shattered. 2) “Menace” is a shorter movement, mimicking a Scherzo.  It is also machine-like, incessant, with an occasional, recurring, waltz-like little tune – perhaps the chilling grimace we recognize from the executioner’s guillotine mask.  Like the death machine it alludes to, it gathers momentum as it goes, and is unstoppable. 3) ”If I must perish - do not let my paintings die”; these words are by Felix Nussbaum who, knowing what was ahead, nonetheless continued painting till his death in Auschwitz in 1944.  If the heart of the first movement is the shuddering interruption of life as we know it, the third movement tries to capture something of what I can only imagine to be the conflicting states of mind that would have made it possible, and essential, to continue to live and practice one’s art – bearing witness to the events.  Creating must have been, for Nussbaum and for so many others, a way of maintaining sanity, both a struggle and a catharsis – an act of defiance and salvation all at the same time. 4) “Shards, Memory” is a direct reference to my quartet’s title.  Only shards are left.  And memory.  The memory is of things large and small, of unspeakable tragedy, but also of the song and the dance, the smile, the hopes.  All things human.  As we remember, in the face of death’s silence, we restore dignity to those who are gone.—Shulamit Ran .

By Various. Edited by Meuser, Michael / Berning, Thomas / Kohlmann, Mathias / Degott, Matthias / Kolle, Martin / Walter, Meinrad / Geismann, Wilm. Occasions: Eucharist, Communion, Feasts of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Hymns in praise of the Virgin Mary, Mourning, Death; Use during church year: Advent, Lent and Passiontide, Easter and Eastertide, Christmas. Collection. 224 pages. Published by Carus Verlag (German import).