SKU: PR.466000470

UPC: 680160099405. 11 x 17 inches.

This is the second incarnation of a work I first composed in 1994 for symphonic wind ensemble. The earlier version was intended to be the summation of three-part suite, each part being named for a different national park in the Western United States. This orchestral version, commissioned in 1999 by the Utah Symphony and dedicated to the memory of Aaron Copland, is more than a re-scoring of the earlier piece; it is a re-thinking of all its elements. Zion is a place with unrivaled natural grandeur, being a sort of huge box canyon in which the traveler is constantly overwhelmed by towering rock walls on every side of him -- but it is also a place with a human history, having been inhabited by several tribes of native Americans before the arrival of the Mormon settlers in the mid-19th century. By the time the Mormons reached Utah, they had been driven all the way from New York State through Ohio and, with tragic losses, through Missouri. They saw Utah in general as a place nobody wanted, but they were nonetheless determined to keep it to themselves. Although Zion Canyon was never a Mormon Stronghold, the people who reached it and claimed it (and gave it its present name) had been through extreme trials. It is the religious fervor of these persecuted people that I was able to draw upon in creating Zion as a piece of music. There are two quoted hymns in the work: Zion's Walls (which Aaron Copland adapted to his own purposes in both his Old American Songs and the opera The Tender Land) and Zion's Security, which I found in the same volume in which Copland found Zion's Walls -- that inexhaustible storehouse of 19th-century hymnody called The Sacred Harp. My work opens with a three-verse setting of Zion's Security, a stern tune in F-sharp minor which is full of resolve. (The words of this hymn are resolute and strong, rallying the faithful to be firm, and describing the city of our God they hope to establish). This melody alternates with a fanfare tune, whose origins will be revealed in later music, until the second half of the piece begins: a driving rhythmic ostinato based on a 3/4-4/4 alternating meter scheme. This pauses at its height to restate Zion's Security one more time, in a rather obscure setting surrounded by freely shifting patterns in the flutes, clarinets, and percussion -- until the sun warms the ground sufficiently for the second hymn to appear. Zion's Walls is set in 7/8, unlike Copland's 9/8-6/8 meters (the original is quite strange, and doesn't really fit any constant meter), and is introduced by a warm horn solo. The two hymns vie for attention from here to the end of the piece, with the glowingly optimistic Zion's Walls finally achieving prominence. The work ends with a sense of triumph.

SKU: PR.16400272S

UPC: 680160588442. 8.5 x 11 inches.

My third quartet is laid out in a three-movement structure, with each movement based on an early, middle, and late work of the great American impressionist painter Mary Cassatt. Although the movements are separate, with full-stop endings, the music is connected by a common scale-form, derived from the name MARY CASSATT, and by a recurring theme that introduces all three movements. I see this theme as Mary's Theme, a personality that stays intact while undergoing gradual change.   I The Bacchante (1876) [Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania]   The painting shows a young girl of Italian or Spanish origin, playing a small pair of cymbals. Since Cassatt was trying very hard to fit in at the French Academy at the time, she painted a lot of these subjects, which were considered typical and universal. The style of the painting doesn't yet show Cassatt's originality, except perhaps for certain details in the face. Accordingly the music for this movement is Spanish/Italian, in a similar period-style but using the musical signature described above. The music begins with Mary's Theme, ruminative and slow, then abruptly changes to an alla Spagnola-type fast 3/4 - 6/8 meter. It evokes the Spanish-influenced music of Ravel and Falla.   Midway through, there's an accompanied recitative for the viola, which figures large in this particular movement, then back to a truncated recapitulation of the fast music. The overall feeling is of a well-made, rather conventional movement in a contemporary Spanish/Italian style. Cassatt's painting, too, is rather conventional.   II At the Opera (1880) [Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Massachusetts]   This painting is one of Cassatt's most well known works, and it hangs in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. The painting shows a woman alone in a box at the opera house, completely dressed (including gloves) and looking through opera glasses at someone or something that is NOT on the stage. Across the auditorium from her, but exactly at eye level, is a gentleman with opera glasses intently watching her - though it is not him that she's looking at. It's an intriguing picture.   This movement is far less conventional than the first movement, as the painting is far less conventional. The music begins with a rapid, Shostakovich-type mini-overture lasting less than a minute, based on Mary's Theme. My conjecture is that the woman in the painting has arrived late to the opera, busily stumbling into her box. What happens next is a kind of collage, a kind of surrealistic overlaying of two different elements: the foreground music, at first is a direct quotation of Soldier's Chorus from Gounod's FAUST (an opera Cassatt would certainly have heard in the brand-new Paris Opera House at that time), played by Violin II, Viola, and Cello. This music is played sul ponticello in the melody and col legno in the marching accompaniment. On top of this, the first violin hovers at first on a high harmonic, then descends into a slow melody, completely separate from the Gounod. It's as if the woman in the painting is hearing the opera onstage but is not really interested in it. Then the cello joins the first violin in a kind of love-duet (just the two of them, at first). This music isn't at all Gounod-derived; it's entirely from the same scale patterns as the first movement and derives from Mary's Theme and its scale. The music stays in a kind of dichotomy feeling, usually three-against-one, until the end of the movement, when another Gounod melody, Valentin's aria Avant de quitter ce lieux reappears in a kind of coda for all four players. It ends atmospherically and emotionally disconnected, however. The overall feeling is a kind of schizophrenic, opera-inspired dream.   III Young Woman in Green, Outdoors in the Sun (1909) [Worcester Art Museum, Massachusetts]   The painting, one of Cassatt's last, is very simple: just a figure, looking sideways out of the picture. The colors are pastel and yet bold - and the woman is likewise very self-assured and not in the least demure. It is eight minutes long, and is all about melody - three melodies, to be exact (Young Woman, Green, and Sunlight). No angst, no choppy rhythms, just ever-unfolding melody and lush harmonies. I quote one other French composer here, too: Debussy's song Green, from Ariettes Oubliees. 1909 would have been Debussy's heyday in Paris, and it makes perfect sense musically as well as visually to do this.   Mary Cassatt lived her last several years in near-total blindness, and as she lost visual acuity, her work became less sharply defined - something akin to late water lilies of Monet, who suffered similar vision loss. My idea of making this movement entirely melodic was compounded by having each of the three melodies appear twice, once in a pure form, and the second time in a more diffuse setting. This makes an interesting two ways form: A-B-C-A1-B1-C1.   String Quartet No.3 (Cassatt) is dedicated, with great affection and respect, to the Cassatt String Quartet, whose members have dedicated themselves in large measure to the furthering of the contemporary repertoire for quartet.

SKU: HL.49045437

ISBN 9790001162715. UPC: 841886029088. 9.0x12.0x0.168 inches.

On the occasion of the quincentenary of Reformation Day in 2017, the composer Enjott Schneider thoroughly studied Martin Luther the individual and all his contradictions. The result is a brilliant, demanding organ symphony which is perfect for concerts on the subject of Reformation and Martin Luther.The composer describes the five movements of the symphony as follows:'1st movement:Wir glauben all an einen Gott with its quintuplet-like beginning is very Gregorian in style, outlining the range of Lutheran emotionalism between the Middle Ages and the modern era. The irrationality of faith ultimately has priority over any thought and evidence. At the beginning of the movement, sounds of knocking on wood remind of the nailing of the Ninety-Five Theses to the doors of churches in Wittenberg. The chorale melody sometimes hides with an almost rough medieval saltarello, referring to Luther's robustness and vitality with which he knew to carry away even common people.2nd movement:In 1530, the electoral prince of Saxony presented to Luther at Coburg Castle the golden signet ring with the Luther rose which became the symbol of his theology of grace. A white heart with black cross is fixed on a five-petalled rose. To him, white is the colour of angels and ghosts, black stands for the pain of crucification: The just shall live by faith, but by faith in the Crucified. But the fact that the rose and the heart are the dominating symbols shows how Catholic Marian piety remained an ingredient of Luther's spirituality throughout his life. In line with the dominant five-petal structure of the rose, this movement was composed, to a large extent, in accordance with the floating, lyrical rhythm in 5/8 time.3rd movement:The omnipresence of death and dying - from the plague and war to the never-ending dangers of daily life - was an essential part of the world view of that time. Fears ensued that might heighten into the grotesque, e.g. in the pictures of Hieronymus Bosch. The Danse macabre was a popular motif in those years. Luther's chorale Mitten wir im Leben sind / mit dem Tod umfangen from 1524 (Enchiridion from Erfurt) is based on the Gregorian chant Media vita in morte sumus created in France around 750 and, with its idea of transience, inspired a simplistic air.4th movement:The famous confession delivered at the Diet of Worms in 1521, I stand here and can say no more. God help me. Amen, are not Luther's words but the version later used as text for a pamphlet. However, it represents quite plainly the straightforwardness and inevitability of his mission. Musically, it was made into a perpetuum mobile, i.e. a dogged, ostinato and never-ending musical air.5th movement:The Mighty Fortress, on the other hand, is one of the great symbols of Martin Luther which, with its shining C major key, embodies the Protestant ideology and willful nature of the Reformation unlike any other song. Heinrich Heine called it the Marseille anthem of the Reformation, Friedrich Engels the Marseillaise of the Peasants' Wars. This disputability is not thought through to the end but rather interrupted: With a jubilant birdcall version of the melody, the finale shows a rather chamber-music-like side of the ideals of freedom of Christians.'.