SKU: PR.144407380

ISBN 9781491133903. UPC: 680160683475. 9 x 12 inches.

In her powerful Foreword to the music, violinist Kelly Hall-Tompkins has written: “There are great works which give voice to important moments for generations, and this is one of them.” The tragedy of Elijah McClain’s murder has moved us all, and for many musicians the image of this gentle young man playing his violin for kittens at an animal shelter has added a poignant extra layer. Zwilich was a professional violinist before turning exclusively to composing, and A LITTLE VIOLIN MUSIC is a memorial from the heart of one violinist to another.
[THESE NOTES MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED OUTSIDE OF THE PUBLICATION; OK TO QUOTE A BIT AND GIVE AUTHOR CREDIT]We often research important pieces of music to gain some glimpse into the mind of the composer by understanding the times in which a piece was written. The times that brought this piece into being, 2020, has been a year like no other in our lifetimes.With the suffering of a once in a century pandemic raging in ever higher waves, and millions of people around the world confined to their homes with a shared attention span for the first time in generations, we watched in horror the 8 minute 46 second killing of George Floyd, a man previously unknown to us, but now unwillingly joining a long list of names of unarmed African Americans killed by police. The anguished backlash of citizens around the world, from Japan to New Zealand to Germany to the United States, of every age, color, and creed, has rallied for weeks and months on end to demand enough and that “Black Lives Matter.”And yet, in the midst of it all is an America starkly divided against itself with some defiantly pushing back, emboldened by authoritarian-style government actions against its own citizens occurring all over the country. It is against this backdrop that we ever had a chance to know of Elijah McClain. Here in quarantine I sometimes practice my scales in front of the news. And one day the mirror image looking back at me from the screen was a slight young man, warm, affable brown eyes, and also a violin under his chin. The newsreel-style camera pan so familiar now, I knew the only reason we were gazing upon his unfamous face was that he too had been killed by police nearly a year before. But the revelation of it in the broadcast hit me particularly hard.Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, who is not only one of the great composers of our time, is also a dear friend, and called me the next day, also deeply saddened by the news. It was from Ellen that I learned that Elijah used to play for the kittens at the local animal shelter so they wouldn’t be lonely. This kind, gentle soul was aggressively taken into police custody while saying, “I am an introvert. Please respect the boundaries that I am speaking... I’m going home.” He was never seen alive again.Ellen and I spoke of the sadness and the injustice of this several times. She felt a powerful calling to contribute something in a statement and the result is the piece you now hold in your hands. I am deeply honored to be the dedicatee of the piece, to have worked together with Ellen on some of the final details, and to pen this score note. As an invited alumna of the Eastman School of Music, I premiered the work for their virtual event on Diversity and Inclusion. Each time I play it, there is a persistent lump in my throat because Ellen has captured something poignant and powerful here.There are great works which give voice to important moments for generations, and this is one of them. We humbly offer this piece in memory of Elijah McClain.Foreword © 2021 by Kelly Hall-Tompkins. Used by permission.

SKU: PR.114418750

ISBN 9781491129524. UPC: 680160655489. 9 x 12 inches.

The seven-movement in the snowy margins might be considered a sort of atomic suite, as each movement is succinct, yet a microcosmic powerhouse inspired by “The Comet,” by Polish writer and Holocaust victim Bruno Schulz. Hersch’s intensity is expressed through dramatically captivating violin gestures, pushing the boundaries of texture, technique, and emotion.
Michael Hersch’s in the snowy margins was written in 2010. Like much of his work, it is grounded in literature and art. The title is drawn from a short story, The Comet by Polish writer, poet, and artist, Bruno Schulz (1892-1942). This forms the last of his collection The Street of Crocodiles, published in 1934. Schulz was shot by a Nazi officer in 1942.Both the title of Hersch’s work, and the ‘motto’ found on the composer’s manuscript (‘Thus far and no further. But what has become of the end of the world…’) are to be found in The Comet. It’s interesting that in in the snowy margins, unlike his earlier Fourteen Pieces which were inspired by the poetry of Primo Levi, Hersch chose to not title each individual movement with a quote. However his choices of text are applied, there is a clear quality of distillation. In every case, the texts which the composer has chosen to eschew lie beneath the music, akin to the greater mass of an iceberg, submerged, but imminent.Hersch also has very particular taste in visual art, and there seems to be common ground between the intensely expressionist drawing of Schulz, and those of Michael Mazur, which inspired his string quartet Images from a Closed Ward. The parallels between these artists reflect common traits shared between these two pieces, which provide a window on how the music should be approached, expressively and technically. I would argue, that from a violinist’s point of view, this pertains directly to how bow and left hand should approach the string: the febrile vibrancy of both Mazur and Schulz’s pencil and charcoal strokes, perhaps what T.S. Eliot called the ‘circulation of the lymph’, in every gesture, speaks to the intense experience, physically and emotionally, of playing (and hearing) this music. There is an intense sense of ‘truth to materials’ at every moment, the sense that every note sings on the edge of, or even beyond, total collapse.— Peter Sheppard-Skaerved.