SKU: HL.49045014

ISBN 9790001202114. 9.0x12.0 inches.

The Belgian composer Nicholas Lens presents extremely varied etudes, exercises and simple phrases with wonderfully telling titles from poetry and everyday world for children and adults. For the most part the studies are tonal and simple and have no constructed line. They are not based on any educational concept but leave the musical dramatization to the pupils and teachers: 'Notes and rhythms are just notes and rhythms, they do not have that many rules, they do not have any pretension, they are just tools for you to use to express what you want to share'.

SKU: FG.55011-372-5

ISBN 9790550113725.

Images of the sea figure prominently throughout my life and memories: from holidays on the Atlantic coast during my Canadian childhood to my current Baltic home, and the imagined, only later experienced Mediterranean of my ancestral heritage. As an immigrant (son of an immigrant) bound to two northern countries, the sea is emblematic of my twin homelands, from the expanses of water surrounding them to those separating them. A Mari usque ad Mare. The sea is also an enduring image of the unknown, of expanses unexplored, of the raw power of nature and, for too many currently, of terror holding a hope of refuge - or the pain of loss.
Such disparate ideas were captured for me in the seascapes of the New York painter MaryBeth Thielhelm, whom I met in 2008 during a residency on the Gulf of Mexico. Her vast, abstract, nearly monochromatic depictions of imaginary seas in wildly varying moods were the catalyst for a concerto where the piano is frequently far from a hero battling a collective, but rather acts as a channel for elemental forces surging up from the orchestra, floating - sometimes barely so - on its constantly shifting surface. There are few themes to speak of, beyond a handful of iconic ideas that periodically cycle upward. Rather, the piano's material is largely an ornamentation of the more primal rhythmic and harmonic impulses from the orchestra below - a poetic interpretation, if you will, of the more immediate experience of facing the vastness of some unknown body of water.
The title Nameless Seas is borrowed from one of Thielhelm's exhibitions, as are those of the four movements, which are bridged together into two halves of roughly equal weight - one rhapsodic and free, the other more single-minded and direct, separated only by a short breath. The opening movement, Nocturne, is predominantly calm, if brooding, darkness and light alternating throughout. Lyrical arabesques sparkle over gently lapping cross-currents in the strings and mirrored timpani, the piano's full power only rarely deployed. The waves gradually build, drawing in the full orchestra for a meeting of forces in Land and Sea, a brighter, more warmly lyrical scene that unfolds in series of dreamlike, sometimes even nostalgic visions, which for me carry strong memories of sitting on rocks above surging Atlantic waves. The third movement, Wake, is a fast, perpetual-motion texture of glinting, darting rhythms and sudden shafts of light, with a prominent part for the steel drums, limning the piano's quicksilver figurations. An ecstatic climax crashes into a solo cadenza that grows progressively calmer and more introspective rather than virtuosic. Much of the tension finally releases into Unclaimed Waters, a drifting, meditative seascape in which the piano is progressively engulfed by a series of ever-taller waves, ultimately dissolving into a tolling, rippling continuum of sound.
It has been a great privilege to realize such a long-held dream as this piece, and to write it for not one, but two great pianists. Risto-Matti Marin and Angela Hewitt, both of whose friendship and support have been unfailing and humbling, share the dedication. Nameless Seas was commissioned by the PianoEspoo festival and Canada's National Arts Centre, with the premieres in Ottawa and Helsinki led by Hannu Lintu and Olari Elts. Thanks are due also to the Jenny and Antti Wihuri fund, whose generous grant provided me with much-needed time, and Escape to Create in Seaside, Florida, the source to which I returned to do a large part of the work.

SKU: CF.CM9735

ISBN 9781491161159. UPC: 680160919741. Key: A minor. Latin, English. Christopher Smart and ZRS.

Origins of the Tarantella The tarantella is a popular southern Italian dance with origins in the 11th century. (There is even some mention of the tarantella in ancient Greek mythology.) Of the possible sources of the dance, the most popular comes from the villages of Tanto and Tarentum (little spider), Italy. During harvest, workers in the field were sometimes bitten by the tarantula spider. To combat the poison, the afflicted workers went into a frenetic, almost musical exorcism to sweat the venom out of their pores. In the millennium since, the very energetic nature of the dance has remained, although the curative focus of the dance has given way to more enjoyable endeavors, even stately courtship. Origins of the Text Christopher Smart (1722-1771), also known as Kit Smart or Jack Smart, was born in Kent, England and suffered from what is now believed to be acute asthma and other health issues as a child. As such, he did not work in the fields, but spent much time reading and writing, a passion that he nurtured for a lifetime. Well known in London literary circles, his career as a writer floundered due to mounting debts and his falling out of favor with the literary establishment: Sadly, he was forced to confinement at St. Luke's Hospital for Lunatics, though this was based on his mounting debt, and not on insanity. (Confinement, or debtor's prison, was common during this period if one's debts could not be paid.) During his confinement, he worked on two of his most famous works, Jubilate Agno and A Song of David. (Part of Jubilate Agno [Rejoice in the Lamb] was set to music by English composer, Benjamin Britten.) Smart's writing style (which, at times, bordered on the absurd), along with his many obsessions, lead to frequent misperceptions of his work and his lucidity. In this present work, portions of Smart's Jubilate Agno were used in mm. 24-31, 103-110 and 149-156. The remaining text was gathered by the composer, including the rapid, almost patter-like, delivery of words from A-Z in the alphabet. (Christopher Smart had a preoccupation with the alphabet.) These words both rhyme and accentuate the frenetic nature of the spider dance: theraphosa [teh-rah-fo-sa] a genus of tarantula spiders bellicose [beh-lee-ko-sah] hostile; aggressive odiosa [o-dee-o-sa] hateful; vexation tenebrosa [teh-neh-bro-sa] creeping; dark nemorosa [neh-mo-ro-sa] wooded; shady lapidosa [lah-pee-do-sa] stony area; gritty The convergence, then, of the medieval tarantella (spider dance), the writings of a brilliant poet who bordered on the absurd, and the infusion of strong, descriptive and otherwise random, rhyming words, synthesizes to make dramatic lyrics for this work. About the Composer Z. Randall Stroope is an American composer and conductor. He has served as Professor of Music at three universities (an Endowed Professor at two), conducted 47 all-state choirs, and directed over 40 times at Carnegie Hall, among other American venues. Randall guest conducts full-time, and composes from his home studios on Merritt Island, Florida and in Sandia Park, New Mexico. Performance Notes Text: In Latin, the r is flipped; use s instead of z on endings such as phosa, cosa, and so on; the Latin o is a cross between oh and aw; in the transliteration above, I chose to simply use an o for consistency. The director will blend the oh and aw in the rehearsals to his/her own preference. Lastly, tarantula is pronounced tah-rah-n-too-lah (avoid teh-ran-choo-luh) within the confines of this text. Stomp: This can be done by the entire chorus, or just the first row. It is as much visual as it is auditory. The string quartet is preferred over piano when that option affords itself. I created a piano score that is a viable option and included it in the piano/vocal score if a performance uses chorus/piano.
The tarantella is a popular southern Italian dance with origins in the 11th century. (There is even some mention of the tarantella in ancient Greek mythology.) Of the possible sources of the dance, the most popular comes from the villages of Tanto and Tarentum (“little spider”), Italy. During harvest, workers in the field were sometimes bitten by the tarantula spider. To combat the “poison,” the afflicted workers went into a frenetic, almost musical exorcism to sweat the venom out of their pores. In the millennium since, the very energetic nature of the dance has remained, although the curative focus of the dance has given way to more enjoyable endeavors, even stately courtship.Christopher Smart (1722-1771), also known as “Kit Smart” or “Jack Smart,” was born in Kent, England and suffered from what is now believed to be acute asthma and other health issues as a child. As such, he did not work in the fields, but spent much time reading and writing, a passion that he nurtured for a lifetime. Well known in London literary circles, his career as a writer floundered due to mounting debts and his falling out of favor with the literary establishment: Sadly, he was forced to confinement at St. Luke’s Hospital for Lunatics, though this was based on his mounting debt, and not on insanity. (Confinement, or debtor’s prison, was common during this period if one’s debts could not be paid.) During his confinement, he worked on two of his most famous works, Jubilate Agno and A Song of David. (Part of Jubilate Agno [“Rejoice in the Lamb”] was set to music by English composer, Benjamin Britten.) Smart’s writing style (which, at times, bordered on the absurd), along with his many obsessions, lead to frequent misperceptions of his work and his lucidity. In this present work, portions of Smart’s Jubilate Agno were used in mm. 24-31, 103-110 and 149-156. The remaining text was gathered by the composer, including the rapid, almost patter-like, delivery of words from A-Z in the alphabet. (Christopher Smart had a preoccupation with the alphabet.) These words both rhyme and accentuate the frenetic nature of the spider dance:The convergence, then, of the medieval tarantella (spider dance), the writings of a brilliant poet who bordered on the absurd, and the infusion of strong, descriptive and otherwise random, rhyming words, synthesizes to make dramatic lyrics for this work.Z. Randall Stroope is an American composer and conductor. He has served as Professor of Music at three universities (an Endowed Professor at two), conducted 47 all-state choirs, and directed over 40 times at Carnegie Hall, among other American venues. Randall guest conducts full-time, and composes from his home studios on Merritt Island, Florida and in Sandia Park, New Mexico. In Latin, the “r” is flipped; use “s” instead of “z” on endings such as “phosa,” “cosa,” and so on; the Latin “o” is a cross between “oh” and “aw”; in the transliteration above, I chose to simply use an “o” for consistency. The director will blend the “oh” and “aw” in the rehearsals to his/her own preference. Lastly, “tarantula” is pronounced “tah-rah-n-too-lah” (avoid “teh-ran-choo-luh”) within the confines of this text.Stomp: This can be done by the entire chorus, or just the first row. It is as much visual as it is auditory. The string quartet is preferred over piano when that option affords itself. I created a piano score that is a viable option and included it in the piano/vocal score if a performance uses chorus/piano.
The tarantella is a popular southern Italian dance with origins in the 11th century. (There is even some mention of the tarantella in ancient Greek mythology.) Of the possible sources of the dance, the most popular comes from the villages of Tanto and Tarentum (“little spider”), Italy. During harvest, workers in the field were sometimes bitten by the tarantula spider. To combat the “poison,” the afflicted workers went into a frenetic, almost musical exorcism to sweat the venom out of their pores. In the millennium since, the very energetic nature of the dance has remained, although the curative focus of the dance has given way to more enjoyable endeavors, even stately courtship.Christopher Smart (1722-1771), also known as “Kit Smart” or “Jack Smart,” was born in Kent, England and suffered from what is now believed to be acute asthma and other health issues as a child. As such, he did not work in the fields, but spent much time reading and writing, a passion that he nurtured for a lifetime. Well known in London literary circles, his career as a writer floundered due to mounting debts and his falling out of favor with the literary establishment: Sadly, he was forced to confinement at St. Luke’s Hospital for Lunatics, though this was based on his mounting debt, and not on insanity. (Confinement, or debtor’s prison, was common during this period if one’s debts could not be paid.) During his confinement, he worked on two of his most famous works, Jubilate Agno and A Song of David. (Part of Jubilate Agno [“Rejoice in the Lamb”] was set to music by English composer, Benjamin Britten.) Smart’s writing style (which, at times, bordered on the absurd), along with his many obsessions, lead to frequent misperceptions of his work and his lucidity. In this present work, portions of Smart’s Jubilate Agno were used in mm. 24-31, 103-110 and 149-156. The remaining text was gathered by the composer, including the rapid, almost patter-like, delivery of words from A-Z in the alphabet. (Christopher Smart had a preoccupation with the alphabet.) These words both rhyme and accentuate the frenetic nature of the spider dance:The convergence, then, of the medieval tarantella (spider dance), the writings of a brilliant poet who bordered on the absurd, and the infusion of strong, descriptive and otherwise random, rhyming words, synthesizes to make dramatic lyrics for this work.Z. Randall Stroope is an American composer and conductor. He has served as Professor of Music at three universities (an Endowed Professor at two), conducted 47 all-state choirs, and directed over 40 times at Carnegie Hall, among other American venues. Randall guest conducts full-time, and composes from his home studios on Merritt Island, Florida and in Sandia Park, New Mexico.In Latin, the “r” is flipped; use “s” instead of “z” on endings such as “phosa,” “cosa,” and so on; the Latin “o” is a cross between “oh” and “aw”; in the transliteration above, I chose to simply use an “o” for consistency. The director will blend the “oh” and “aw” in the rehearsals to his/her own preference. Lastly, “tarantula” is pronounced “tah-rah-n-too-lah” (avoid “teh-ran-choo-luh”) within the confines of this text.Stomp: This can be done by the entire chorus, or just the first row. It is as much visual as it is auditory. The string quartet is preferred over piano when that option affords itself. I created a piano score that is a viable option and included it in the piano/vocal score if a performance uses chorus/piano.