SKU: CF.MXE219

ISBN 9781491157794. UPC: 680160916399. 9 x 12 inches.

Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about HoffmeisterAs awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterA3despite scruples about treading on hallowed groundA3I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak MozartAs language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialA3MozartAs friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such A!improvementsA(r)A3I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were MozartAs A!blueprintsA(r) of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to A!flesh outA(r) the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composerAs dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the A!rightA(r) one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my BognerAs CafA recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888A+-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as A!a kind of keyboard chamber music.A(r) Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: A!The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldA3the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.A(r) That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called A!the crowning work of its kindA(r) by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of MozartAs mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltoA3an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementAs declamatory A!opera chorusA(r) persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The A!love duetA(r) between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned A!duettingA(r) between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the AndanteAs middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8a time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the A!Swiss clockA(r) section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my A!newA(r) Mozart Quintet endeavorsA3and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. A3Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.
Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeisteris awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterodespite scruples about treading on hallowed groundoI grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozartis language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialoMozartis friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such iimprovementsioI always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozartis iblueprintsi of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to iflesh outi the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composeris dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the irighti one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogneris CafE recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888n1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as ia kind of keyboard chamber music.i Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: iThe F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldothe world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.i That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called ithe crowning work of its kindi by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozartis mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltooan F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementis declamatory iopera chorusi persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The ilove dueti between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned iduettingi between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andanteis middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8+time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the iSwiss clocki section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my inewi Mozart Quintet endeavorsoand most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. oCompiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.
Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister's awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter--despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground--I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart's language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material--Mozart's friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such improvements--I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart's blueprints of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to flesh out the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer's dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the right one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogner's Cafe recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as a kind of keyboard chamber music. Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world--the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music. That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinu Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called the crowning work of its kind by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart's mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto--an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement's declamatory opera chorus persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E<= Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The love duet between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned duetting between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante's middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the Swiss clock section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinu Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my new Mozart Quintet endeavors--and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. --Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.
PrefaceIn 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister’s awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter—despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground—I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart’s language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings.With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material—Mozart’s friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such “improvements”—I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart’s “blueprints” of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to “flesh out” the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer’s dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the “right” one then became a most absorbing study.On the eve of releasing my Bogner’s Café recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888–1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as “a kind of keyboard chamber music.” Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: “The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world—the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.” That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet.Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinů Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called “the crowning work of its kind” by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart’s mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue.The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto—an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement’s declamatory “opera chorus” persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro.The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E≤ Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The “love duet” between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned “duetting” between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante’s middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement.In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the “Swiss clock” section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability.I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinů Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my “new” Mozart Quintet endeavors—and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990.—Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallmanby Hannah Woods Stallman,February 2, 2020.

SKU: BT.DHP-1115084-020

9x12 inches. English-German-French-Dutch.

It may be surprising to see a fanfare piece commissioned by a Japanese ensemble, since fanfare orchestras are typically found in Belgium, Holland and Luxembourg, and also France and Switzerland. Senzoku Gakuen is one of the largest and mostprestigious music universities in Japan, and home to a wide variety of ensembles and orchestras. Since 2006 they have had a fanfare orchestra, which was started by Sotaru Fukaishi, a euphonium teacher who felt further performance opportunity wasneeded for saxhorn instruments. Fukaishi had loved the sound of fanfare orchestras ever since visiting the World Music Contest in Kerkrade (Holland) several years earlier. Jan Van der Roost was involved with this new initiative from the beginning,and they were also joined by Manu Mellaerts for certain projects. The Dean of the music department, Professor Kazuo Tomioka, fully supports the ensemble and commissioned Ostinati. The première took place on June 11th at Maeda Hall inMizonokuchi (Kawasaki) where Senzoku Gakuen is based. The piece opens with an impressive timpani solo, followed by brass and saxophone. The rhythmical pulse remains constant and the music is fiery and assertive in character. A pentatonic melodygradually emerges and the music loses its vehemency and softens. The initial percussion ostinati subsequently recurs and the first section of the piece concludes in a similar mood to the opening. The second movement is sweet and melodic, opening witha long passage for the saxophone family in a minor key. The same theme then appears in the major and is developed upon; the music builds to a majestic orchestral forte, reminiscent of a pipe organ in its sonority. The theme returns in the originalminor key with a change in instrumentation leading the movement to a quiet and peaceful end on a soft E minor chord. The finale starts with percussion: a four-bar pattern is repeated several times over which the movement’s melodic themes areintroduced. These melodic elements are varied and used in different versions and the ostinato idea, which characterizes the entire piece, is highlighted. The theme travels through the orchestra, appearing on various instruments and in variousregisters. It captures the listener’s attention and displays the full range of sound and colour within the fanfare orchestra.

Het is misschien verrassend dat dit fanfarewerk is geschreven in opdracht van een Japans ensemble, aangezien fanfareorkesten vooral te vinden zijn in België, Nederland en Luxemburg, en ook wel in Frankrijk en Zwitserland. SenzokuGakuen is een van de grootste en meest prestigieuze muziekopleidingen van Japan, en de thuisbasis van een grote verscheidenheid van ensembles en orkesten. In 2006 is er een fanfareorkest opgericht, en wel door Sotaru Fukaishi, eeneuphoniumdocent die vond dat er meer mogelijkheden moesten komen voor optredens met saxhoorninstrumenten. Fukaishi had enkele jaren daarvoor genoten van de fanfareklank toen hij het Wereld Muziek Concours in Kerkrade bezocht. DeBelgische componist Jan Van der Roost was van het begin af aan betrokken bij dit nieuwe initiatief, en ook Manu Mellaerts werd voor een aantal projecten aangetrokken. Het hoofd van de muziekfaculteit, professor Kazuo Tomioka, staatgeheel achter het ensemble en gaf de opdracht tot het schrijven van Ostinati. De première vond plaats op 11 juni in de Maeda Hall in Mizonokuchi (Kawasaki), waar Senzoku Gakuen is gevestigd. Het werk begint met een indrukwekkendepaukensolo, gevolgd door koper en saxofoon. De ritmische puls blijft constant, en de aard van de muziek is vurig en krachtig. Geleidelijk komt er een pentatonische melodie naar voren en wordt de muziek minder heftig, ze wordtzachter van karakter. De aanvankelijke ostinati in het slagwerk verschijnen dan opnieuw, waarna het eerste deel van het werk eindigt in dezelfde sfeer als waarmee het begon. Het tweede deel is lieflijk en melodisch. Het opentmet een lange passage voor de saxofoons in een mineurtoonsoort. Dan klinkt hetzelfde thema in majeur en daar wordt op voortgeborduurd: de muziek ontwikkelt zich tot een majestueus orkestraal forte, dat qua sonoriteit doet denken

Es mag überraschen, dass dieses Fanfareorchesterwerk ausgerechnet von einem japanischen Ensemble in Auftrag gegeben wurde, da Fanfareorchester doch eher in Belgien, den Niederlanden oder Luxemburg oder auch in Frankreich oder Schweiz zu finden sind. Senzoku Gakuen ist eine der größten und renommiertesten Musikschulen Japans und Heimstätte einer Vielfalt an Ensembles und Orchestern. Im Jahr 2006 wurde ein Fanfareorchester gegründet. Den Anstoß gab Sotaru Fukaishi, ein Euphoniumlehrer, der den Instrumenten der Saxhorn-Familie mehr Spielmöglichkeiten bieten wollte. Fukaishi hatte sich einige Jahre zuvor bei der Weltmeisterschaft in Kerkrade (Holland) in den Klang vonFanfareorchestern verliebt. Jan Van der Roost war von Beginn an in die Entwicklung dieser Idee involviert und, einige Projekte betreffend, ebenso Manu Mellaerts. Der Dekan des Musik-Colleges, Professor Kazuo Tomioka, steht voll und ganz hinter dem Ensemble und gab Ostinati in Auftrag. Die Premiere fand am 11. Juni 2011 in der Maeda Hall in Mizonokuchi statt, dem Heimatort der Schule Senzoku Gakuen. Das Stück beginnt mit einem eindrucksvollen Paukensolo, bevor Blechbläser und Saxophon einsetzen. Der rhythmische Puls bleibt konstant unter einer feurigen, nachdrücklichen Musik. Eine pentatonische Melodie bildet sich nach und nach heraus, während die Musik an Heftigkeit verliert und sanfter wird. Die anfänglichen Ostinati im Schlagwerk kehren zurück und so endet der erste Satz des Werkes in einer der Eröffnung ähnlichen Stimmung. Der zweite Satz ist lieblich und melodiös. Er beginnt mit einem langen Abschnitt für die Saxophone in Moll. Dann erscheint das gleiche Thema in Dur und durchläuft eine Entwicklung; die Musik baut sich zu einem majestätischen orchestralen Forte auf, das in seiner Klangfülle an eine Orgel erinnert. Dann kehrt das Thema in seiner ursprünglichen Moll-Tonart und in veränderter Instrumentierung zurück, um den Satz ruhig und friedvoll in einem e-Moll-Akkord enden zu lassen.

Il pourrait paraître surprenant qu’un ensemble japonais puisse commander une pièce pour orchestre de fanfare, puisque l’on rencontre surtout ce type de formation en Belgique, aux Pays-Bas et au Luxembourg, ainsi qu’en France et en Suisse. Senzoku Gakuen, l’une des plus grandes et plus prestigieuses académies de musique du Japon, compte une grande variété d’ensembles et d’orchestres. En 2006 s’y est ajouté un orchestre de fanfare fondé par Sotaru Fukaishi, un professeur d’euphonium qui pensait qu’il était nécessaire d’offrir de plus larges possibilités aux cuivres de la région. Depuis qu’il avait assisté au World Music Contest de Kerkrade (Pays-Bas), plusieurs années auparavant,Fukaishi se prit de passion pour le son chaud et généreux de l’orchestre de fanfare, une formation atypique au Japon. Jan Van der Roost a favorablement adhéré cette nouvelle initiative, tandis que Manu Mellaerts collabora avec les deux hommes afin de concrétiser certains projets. Le professeur Kazuo Tomioka, doyen du collège de musique, soutint vigoureusement l’orchestre et commanda Ostinati. La création de l’oeuvre fut donnée le 11 juin 2011 au Maeda Hall de Mizonokuchi (Kawasaki), où se trouve Senzoku Gakuen. La pièce débute avec un impressionnant solo de timbales précédant l’entrée des cuivres et des saxophones. La pulsion rythmique est constante, la musique est énergique et de caractère affirmé. Une mélodie pentatonique émerge graduellement, alors que la trame musicale diminue d’intensité et s’adoucit. L’ostinato la percussion revient fréquemment et la première partie de l’oeuvre se termine dans un climat semblable celui du début. Le deuxième mouvement, doux et romancé, débute avec un long passage en mode mineur joué par les saxophones. Le même thème apparaît alors en mode majeur et se développe peu peu ; la musique s’intensifie pour arriver un majestueux et orchestral forte dont les sonorités rappellent celles d’un orgue d’église. Puis le thème revient sa tonalité mineure d’origine avec un changement d’instrumentation qui mène.

SKU: CF.YPS217F

ISBN 9781491156551. UPC: 680160915095. 9 x 12 inches.

Hope Remains Within was commissioned by and composed for the Mount Nittany Middle School 7th and 8th Grade Concert Bands. Having heard the students of Mount Nittany perform another work of mine, I was very excited when their director, Johanna Steinbacher, approached me about writing a piece specifically for them. I knew right away that I wanted to write something that would tie in with their non-music curriculum in some way, but I wasn't exactly sure how, or what. Johanna talked to some of her students and learned that, in 7th grade, the students spend a good deal of time studying mythology in their English class. In particular, two clarinet students mentioned how much they enjoyed the story of Pandora. As such, I decided to use that story as the basis of this composition. Hope Remains Within doesn't attempt to re-tell the story, event by event, in musical terms. Instead, my goal was to address what seems to be one of the central issues of the Pandora myth. Though there are some variations, we probably all know the basics as told by the ancient Greek poet Hesiod. Zeus decides to punish Prometheus for stealing fire from heaven and giving it to humans. He and the other gods create Pandora, a beautiful and deceitful woman, and they give her to Prometheus's brother Epimetheus as a bride. Pandora is herself given a jar (according to many sources, jar seems to be a more accurate translation for what we commonly call Pandora's box) which contained numerous evils, diseases, and other pains. Out of curiosity, Pandora opens the jar and releases all of these evils into the world. But one thing remains in the jar: hope. The issue of hope seems to be one of the big interpretive questions of the Pandora myth. Why does hope remain within the jar? Why doesn't it come out of the jar to help humanity? Is hope being held on a pedestal of some sort? Is hope deliberately withheld from humanity? Why was hope in the jar with all those evils in the first place? I'm not enough of a mythological scholar to claim to have definitive answers to those questions, but these are the questions that I've tried to engage from a musical perspective in Hope Remains Within. I encourage the students and listeners to consider their own ideas of what hope is, and where you can find your own hope when needed. Musically, Hope Remains Within draws one of its main themes from the Prometheus Symphony by Alexander Skryabin (Scriabin). The note sequence F-D-Gb -F, heard near Hope's beginning played by alto saxophones and chimes, comes from the opening measures of Skyrabin's work. Given the important role that Prometheus plays in the Pandora myth, this seemed like an appropriate musical gesture to quote. This Prometheus motive is varied throughout the course of the piece, and even provides closure at the end, recast in a major key. Additionally, I have tried to involve a manageable amount of chromaticism in this piece. I have worked from the key of Bb major, no doubt familiar to every student who has ever played an instrument in a band. But I have added three extra notes: Db, Gb, and Ab, which are drawn from the key of Bb minor. During the piece's slow opening, I have allowed these minor key pitches to mingle freely within the Bb major tonality, adding extra color and (I hope!) beauty. As the piece progresses, though, the tempo increases, and we lose sense of the Bb major key entirely, and these extra notes play a more important role. But finally, Bb major returns triumphantly and all the extra notes are gone, except for a brief memory near the very end. (Ok, there are a couple of E-naturals that sneak in there along the way. I couldn't resist.).
Hope Remains Within was commissioned by and composed for the Mount Nittany Middle School 7th and 8th Grade Concert Bands. Having heard the students of Mount Nittany perform another work of mine, I was very excited when their director, Johanna Steinbacher, approached me about writing a piece specifically for them. I knew right away that I wanted to write something that would tie in with their non-music curriculum in some way, but I wasn’t exactly sure how, or what. Johanna talked to some of her students and learned that, in 7th grade, the students spend a good deal of time studying mythology in their English class. In particular, two clarinet students mentioned how much they enjoyed the story of Pandora.As such, I decided to use that story as the basis of this composition. Hope Remains Within doesn’t attempt to re-tell the story, event by event, in musical terms. Instead, my goal was to address what seems to be one of the central issues of the Pandora myth. Though there are some variations, we probably all know the basics as told by the ancient Greek poet Hesiod. Zeus decides to punish Prometheus for stealing fire from heaven and giving it to humans. He and the other gods create Pandora, a beautiful and deceitful woman, and they give her to Prometheus’s brother Epimetheus as a bride. Pandora is herself given a jar (according to many sources, “jar” seems to be a more accurate translation for what we commonly call “Pandora’s box”) which contained numerous evils, diseases, and other pains. Out of curiosity, Pandora opens the jar and releases all of these evils into the world. But one thing remains in the jar: hope.The issue of hope seems to be one of the big interpretive questions of the Pandora myth. Why does hope remain within the jar? Why doesn’t it come out of the jar to help humanity? Is hope being held on a pedestal of some sort? Is hope deliberately withheld from humanity? Why was hope in the jar with all those evils in the first place?I’m not enough of a mythological scholar to claim to have definitive answers to those questions, but these are the questions that I’ve tried to engage from a musical perspective in Hope Remains Within. I encourage the students and listeners to consider their own ideas of what hope is, and where you can find your own hope when needed.Musically, Hope Remains Within draws one of its main themes from the Prometheus Symphony by Alexander Skryabin (Scriabin). The note sequence F-D-Gb -F, heard near Hope’s beginning played by alto saxophones and chimes, comes from the opening measures of Skyrabin’s work. Given the important role that Prometheus plays in the Pandora myth, this seemed like an appropriate musical gesture to quote. This Prometheus motive is varied throughout the course of the piece, and even provides closure at the end, recast in a major key.Additionally, I have tried to involve a manageable amount of chromaticism in this piece. I have worked from the key of Bb major, no doubt familiar to every student who has ever played an instrument in a band. But I have added three extra notes: Db, Gb, and Ab, which are drawn from the key of Bb minor. During the piece’s slow opening, I have allowed these minor key pitches to mingle freely within the Bb major tonality, adding extra color and (I hope!) beauty. As the piece progresses, though, the tempo increases, and we lose sense of the Bb major key entirely, and these extra notes play a more important role. But finally, Bb major returns triumphantly and all the extra notes are gone, except for a brief memory near the very end. (Ok, there are a couple of E-naturals that sneak in there along the way. I couldn’t resist.).