SKU: PR.11641373S

UPC: 680160680344.

The concerto has always seemed an especially attractive medium to me, not necessarily because of its expectations of virtuosity (although flaunting it when you've got it certainly has its place), and emphatically not because of the perception of a concerto as a contest, but because so much of what I write feels song-like; I'm very much at home with the age-old texture of melody and accompaniment. I hope, before I move on, to have the opportunity to write concertos for all the major instruments, and perhaps some of the rarer ones as well. The oboe is not only one of the major instruments, it is one of my favorite instruments. I've always loved its sound, but since moving to New York I have gotten to hear and, in some cases, know some extremely fine oboists who broadened my appreciation of the instrument's possibilities. I especially remember a concert, probably in the late 1960's, in which Humbert Lucarelli played a Handel concerto, filling out large melodic leaps with cascading scale passages in a way that raised the hair on the back of your neck, somewhat in the way that John Coltrane's sheets of sound did. The sweeping scales in the second movement of my concerto were definitely inspired by Bert Lucarelli's performance. The first, third and fifth movements of the Concerto for Oboe and Orchestra are song-like, whereas the second and fourth have strong scherzo and dance qualities, including a couple of sections that sound like out-and-out pirate dances to me. The hymn-like tune at the beginning of the middle movement was originally begun as a vocal piece to be sung by my wife, son and daughter at my brother's wedding, but I couldn't come up with good works for it, so it ended up as an instrumental chant. The opening and closing of the concerto make use of the oboe's uniquely soulful singing. I had not heard Pamela Woods Pecha's solo playing in person when she approached me about writing a concerto, but I had heard her fine recording of chamber music for oboe and strings by the three B's (English, that is: Bliss, Bax and Britten) with the Audubon Quartet. I actually already had some oboe concerto ideas in my sketchbooks; although I didn't end up using any of those earlier ideas, it's interesting that most of them tended to share the general feeling and tonality of the eventual opening of the concerto. The work was completed on October 13, 1994. I hate the compromises involved in making piano reductions -- perhaps I would feel differently if I were a more accomplished pianist -- so I often decide to make piano reductions for four hands rather than two. My good friend Jon Kimura Parker is a terrific sight-reader, and I roped him into coming over to my place on February 17, 1995, to help me accompany Pamela on the first read-through of the piece. The first performance of the work took place on July 21, 1995, at the American Music Festival in Duncan, Oklahoma, with Mark Parker conducting the Festival Orchestra.

SKU: PR.111402890

ISBN 9781491134672. UPC: 680160685264.

Whatâ??s in a name? While the title is French for â??Eight Flower Songs,â? the texts are all in English. The poemsâ?? flowers metaphorically evoke fragrance, love and loss, life and death, rebirth and regrowth. Perhaps the texture and beauty of Gordonâ??s music are themselves French. The 20-minute song cycle draws on poems from Wordsworth to Dorothy Parker, as well as from contemporary poets including the composer himself.
When So-Chung Shinn came to me with the idea of commissioning a song cycle with her spectacular husband Tony Lee, she had in mind something having to do with flowers. Tony had asked her what she wanted for her birthday, and she said she wanted to be behind the creating of a new work. Lucky me, I was the recipient of the commission. So-Chung sent me a little description of all the flowers she loves, but I had to take the idea and create a narrative in my head.It is always a matter of pleasing the commissioner, yet coming up with something you can get behind and hear music for as well. I already knew I wanted to use my â??Tulipsâ? poem which is really about the arc of a relationship as represented through the life span of the Tulips, and, in many ways, disappointment; and Dorothy Parkerâ??s â??One Perfect Rose,â? which is wry, bitter, cynical, and funny, in a way only Dorothy Parker can so pithily express.I thought of Jane Kenyonâ??s exquisite â??Peonies at Dusk,â? because knowing she died so young (46) of leukemia, the poem has such a particular resonance, almost humanizing the Peonies, casting the moon as a sentient being, illustrating so beautifully how connected everything is, alive here, and revolving around these exquisite blossoms. Then, I remembered her husband Donald Hallâ??s poem â??Her Garden,â? which he wrote after Jane died, his grief intermingled with his inability to care for what she had created, to keep alive what so represented her aliveness, broken as he was, and I felt I already had a story.I found the Wordsworth, because it felt like pure joy to me, but also, if each of the songs has a color in my head, â??The Daffodilsâ? is pure yellow and a good place to start. My partner Kevin and I live on a lake, and every year, the first Daffodils, the shock of yellows, the oranges, the blinding whites, after the long snowy winters, sing of the newness that is about to enfold us in its green miraculousness.At first, the cycle ended with the Langston Hughes poem â??Cycle,â? or â??New Flowers,â? because it was lovely, and about rebirth, which is obviously optimistic, and apt, but then, my friend Telmo Dos Santos, a wonderful Canadian poet whom I met at Banff, sent me his poem â??Afterlife With Lilacs,â? having no idea what I was working on. I felt I had to add it because it is so dazzling, and it immediately felt like the missing link. Finally, there were unfortunately rights issues, namely, we could not, no how, get in touch with the Langston Hughes Estate, after so many happy collaborations.After almost a yearâ??s frustration, I wrote my own text, â??Play, Orpheus,â? which ended up being fortuitous, because the first time I met So-Chung, she entered the room and the most exquisite scent of Lillies of the Valley, Muguet de Bois, filled the room. I went right over to her and rudely put my nose to her neck, for the intoxication of the scent. So â??Play, Orpheusâ? is for So-Chung, to remind us of the precious treasures of this world flowers remind us of. Everything and everyone lives and dies, lives and dies. Death and resurrection.And of course, this is music, this is song, so the inclusion of the God of music, Orpheus, seems apt. Huit Chansons de Fleurs is really about what flowers represent, their radiance, their flickering impermanence, the way they are used to celebrate, as well as to mourn...... and of course, their fragrance. Their fragrance.Ricky Ian GordonJuly 28, 2021.