SKU: 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.

SKU: BT.MUSM570368679

Isthmus denotes a narrow strip of land with sea on either side, forming a link between two larger ars of land. The title is a metaphor for an effort to bond artistically my experiences of living in Cyprus, my birthplace, and in the USA, my recently adopted homeland. Having lived in a small, partitioned island for my formative years and in England for eleven years, water has always had a double meaning: it has at once served as a gateway to other cultures but also as a border, a violent and absolute interruption of a continuum. While in the USA, or indeed in a now connected Europe, it is possible to travel on land for days without having to encounter a border, in the countries where I lived for most of my life, that was not possible. As an artist, this notion of establishing boundaries and consciously trying to break them is very close to me, as my music deals both with modernity but also with tradition and, similarly, with metaphor and reality. As a Cypriot, the sea, the world of antiquity, the mysteries of the oracles, the notion of borders and the pastoral are all very central to my way of thinking. In Cyprus, different layers of history are frequently superimposed on a single building that might still preserve its Roman, Byzantine, Venetian and Ottoman features in its layers of stone and architecture. Similarly, ancient ruins or the barbed wire of modern conflict often interrupt placid fields. An isthmus, therefore, can be seen to symbolize my artistic struggle to join strikingly different experiences and notions in a cohesive way. Similar to an isthmus, in this short piece, I connect these experiences with the purpose of creating a distinct and unique sonic context, connecting technology and tradition, the pastoral with the urban, the musical with the extra-musical and the abstract with the concrete. For example, the choir does not always sing in the traditional sense, but the singers imitate various natural sounds, such as water, air, crickets or birds, to create a vivid visual impression for the work. Scandinavian herding calls blend with field recordings from the seas of Cyprus and the lakes of Upstate New York, communicated within clearly defined, singular acoustic sources and spaces through wireless speakers. The text used is both onomatopoeic, articulating an imaginary language, but also literal, with a setting of the poem, “To make a prairie” by the iconic American poet Emily Dickinson and a tiny fragment from Callimachus’ “Hymn to Demeter.” Technology is used sparsely and very intentionally to articulate the expressive qualities of pastoral imagery, creating one unified synthetic timbre with the choristers’ sounds. This piece is dedicated to the wonderful singers of the Georgia Institute of Technology Chamber Choir with special thanks to Professors Hsu and Ulrich, without whose support this composition would not have been possible. Practical notes: A choir of no less than 24 singers is sought with 4 additional soloists (2 Sopranos and 2 Altos). Each singer must have their own wireless speaker, secured either in the music folder or as a strap inside their shirts. All sounds must match in volume the sound from the speakers, creating one unified timbre. The speakers should not be noticeable to the public. The four soloists are placed offstage at the beginning of the work. From 1:35’ onwards they enter the hall and take their positions, ideally at the four corners of the hall. If the hall is too large, the singers can find alternate positions, but these should always be antiphonal. The four soloists sing predominantly in the “kulning” style and the antiphonal aspect is very important to the work. There are two sound files for each section (SATB) that are triggered by each singer’s mobile device. The first occurs at the start of the piece, and the second, about a minute before the end. The sound files are able to be purchased separately, on CD, or are available directly from UYMP.

SKU: PR.41641431L

UPC: 680160603756. 11 x 14 inches.

After spending months looking, my wife and I bought a home in the suburbs. While looking, I increasingly became intrigued by the overall funkyness of the insides of a number of houses we were shown by our realtor. From the crazy wallpaper, to the downright hideous paint colors, to the do-it-yourself projects gone wrong, to the fresh smells of wacky tobacky, some of these homes were real standouts. After seeing so many of these homes, I began to imagine who these current homeowners were. I started picturing them moving about their homes, doing these crazy projects, and dancing a quirky new dance I called the urban sprawl (think Nixon dancing in Nixon in China). Urban Sprawl is a 6 1/2 -minute funky, jazzy, kitschy, and hopefully fun ode to Suburban Life (which was the working title). The work was written for and premiered by Alarm Will Sound at the 201111 Mizzou New Music Summer.