SKU: CF.PL1056

ISBN 9781491153390. UPC: 680160910892. Transcribed by Franz Liszt.

Introduction It is true that Schubert himself is somewhat to blame for the very unsatisfactory manner in which his admirable piano pieces are treated. He was too immoderately productive, wrote incessantly, mixing insignificant with important things, grand things with mediocre work, paid no heed to criticism, and always soared on his wings. Like a bird in the air, he lived in music and sang in angelic fashion. --Franz Liszt, letter to Dr. S. Lebert (1868) Of those compositions that greatly interest me, there are only Chopin's and yours. --Franz Liszt, letter to Robert Schumann (1838) She [Clara Schumann] was astounded at hearing me. Her compositions are really very remarkable, especially for a woman. There is a hundred times more creativity and real feeling in them than in all the past and present fantasias by Thalberg. --Franz Liszt, letter to Marie d'Agoult (1838) Chretien Urhan (1790-1845) was a Belgian-born violinist, organist and composer who flourished in the musical life of Paris in the early nineteenth century. According to various accounts, he was deeply religious, harshly ascetic and wildly eccentric, though revered by many important and influential members of the Parisian musical community. Regrettably, history has forgotten Urhan's many musical achievements, the most important of which was arguably his pioneering work in promoting the music of Franz Schubert. He devoted much of his energies to championing Schubert's music, which at the time was unknown outside of Vienna. Undoubtedly, Urhan was responsible for stimulating this enthusiasm in Franz Liszt; Liszt regularly heard Urhan's organ playing in the St.-Vincent-de-Paul church in Paris, and the two became personal acquaintances. At eighteen years of age, Liszt was on the verge of establishing himself as the foremost pianist in Europe, and this awakening to Schubert's music would prove to be a profound experience. Liszt's first travels outside of his native provincial Hungary were to Vienna in 1821-1823, where his father enrolled him in studies with Carl Czerny (piano) and Antonio Salieri (music theory). Both men had important involvements with Schubert; Czerny (like Urhan) as performer and advocate of Schubert's music and Salieri as his theory and composition teacher from 1813-1817. Curiously, Liszt and Schubert never met personally, despite their geographical proximity in Vienna during these years. Inevitably, legends later arose that the two had been personal acquaintances, although Liszt would dismiss these as fallacious: I never knew Schubert personally, he was once quoted as saying. Liszt's initial exposure to Schubert's music was the Lieder, what Urhan prized most of all. He accompanied the tenor Benedict Randhartinger in numerous performances of Schubert's Lieder and then, perhaps realizing that he could benefit the composer more on his own terms, transcribed a number of the Lieder for piano solo. Many of these transcriptions he would perform himself on concert tour during the so-called Glanzzeit, or time of splendor from 1839-1847. This publicity did much to promote reception of Schubert's music throughout Europe. Once Liszt retired from the concert stage and settled in Weimar as a conductor in the 1840s, he continued to perform Schubert's orchestral music, his Symphony No. 9 being a particular favorite, and is credited with giving the world premiere performance of Schubert's opera Alfonso und Estrella in 1854. At this time, he contemplated writing a biography of the composer, which regrettably remained uncompleted. Liszt's devotion to Schubert would never waver. Liszt's relationship with Robert and Clara Schumann was far different and far more complicated; by contrast, they were all personal acquaintances. What began as a relationship of mutual respect and admiration soon deteriorated into one of jealousy and hostility, particularly on the Schumann's part. Liszt's initial contact with Robert's music happened long before they had met personally, when Liszt published an analysis of Schumann's piano music for the Gazette musicale in 1837, a gesture that earned Robert's deep appreciation. In the following year Clara met Liszt during a concert tour in Vienna and presented him with more of Schumann's piano music. Clara and her father Friedrich Wieck, who accompanied Clara on her concert tours, were quite taken by Liszt: We have heard Liszt. He can be compared to no other player...he arouses fright and astonishment. His appearance at the piano is indescribable. He is an original...he is absorbed by the piano. Liszt, too, was impressed with Clara--at first the energy, intelligence and accuracy of her piano playing and later her compositions--to the extent that he dedicated to her the 1838 version of his Etudes d'execution transcendante d'apres Paganini. Liszt had a closer personal relationship with Clara than with Robert until the two men finally met in 1840. Schumann was astounded by Liszt's piano playing. He wrote to Clara that Liszt had played like a god and had inspired indescribable furor of applause. His review of Liszt even included a heroic personification with Napoleon. In Leipzig, Schumann was deeply impressed with Liszt's interpretations of his Noveletten, Op. 21 and Fantasy in C Major, Op. 17 (dedicated to Liszt), enthusiastically observing that, I feel as if I had known you twenty years. Yet a variety of events followed that diminished Liszt's glory in the eyes of the Schumanns. They became critical of the cult-like atmosphere that arose around his recitals, or Lisztomania as it came to be called; conceivably, this could be attributed to professional jealousy. Clara, in particular, came to loathe Liszt, noting in a letter to Joseph Joachim, I despise Liszt from the depths of my soul. She recorded a stunning diary entry a day after Liszt's death, in which she noted, He was an eminent keyboard virtuoso, but a dangerous example for the young...As a composer he was terrible. By contrast, Liszt did not share in these negative sentiments; no evidence suggests that he had any ill-regard for the Schumanns. In Weimar, he did much to promote Schumann's music, conducting performances of his Scenes from Faust and Manfred, during a time in which few orchestras expressed interest, and premiered his opera Genoveva. He later arranged a benefit concert for Clara following Robert's death, featuring Clara as soloist in Robert's Piano Concerto, an event that must have been exhilarating to witness. Regardless, her opinion of him would never change, despite his repeated gestures of courtesy and respect. Liszt's relationship with Schubert was a spiritual one, with music being the one and only link between the two men. That with the Schumanns was personal, with music influenced by a hero worship that would aggravate the relationship over time. Nonetheless, Liszt would remain devoted to and enthusiastic for the music and achievements of these composers. He would be a vital force in disseminating their music to a wider audience, as he would be with many other composers throughout his career. His primary means for accomplishing this was the piano transcription. Liszt and the Transcription Transcription versus Paraphrase Transcription and paraphrase were popular terms in nineteenth-century music, although certainly not unique to this period. Musicians understood that there were clear distinctions between these two terms, but as is often the case these distinctions could be blurred. Transcription, literally writing over, entails reworking or adapting a piece of music for a performance medium different from that of its original; arrangement is a possible synonym. Adapting is a key part of this process, for the success of a transcription relies on the transcriber's ability to adapt the piece to the different medium. As a result, the pre-existing material is generally kept intact, recognizable and intelligible; it is strict, literal, objective. Contextual meaning is maintained in the process, as are elements of style and form. Paraphrase, by contrast, implies restating something in a different manner, as in a rewording of a document for reasons of clarity. In nineteenth-century music, paraphrasing indicated elaborating a piece for purposes of expressive virtuosity, often as a vehicle for showmanship. Variation is an important element, for the source material may be varied as much as the paraphraser's imagination will allow; its purpose is metamorphosis. Transcription is adapting and arranging; paraphrasing is transforming and reworking. Transcription preserves the style of the original; paraphrase absorbs the original into a different style. Transcription highlights the original composer; paraphrase highlights the paraphraser. Approximately half of Liszt's compositional output falls under the category of transcription and paraphrase; it is noteworthy that he never used the term arrangement. Much of his early compositional activities were transcriptions and paraphrases of works of other composers, such as the symphonies of Beethoven and Berlioz, vocal music by Schubert, and operas by Donizetti and Bellini. It is conceivable that he focused so intently on work of this nature early in his career as a means to perfect his compositional technique, although transcription and paraphrase continued well after the technique had been mastered; this might explain why he drastically revised and rewrote many of his original compositions from the 1830s (such as the Transcendental Etudes and Paganini Etudes) in the 1850s. Charles Rosen, a sympathetic interpreter of Liszt's piano works, observes, The new revisions of the Transcendental Etudes are not revisions but concert paraphrases of the old, and their art lies in the technique of transformation. The Paganini etudes are piano transcriptions of violin etudes, and the Transcendental Etudes are piano transcriptions of piano etudes. The principles are the same. He concludes by noting, Paraphrase has shaded off into composition...Composition and paraphrase were not identical for him, but they were so closely interwoven that separation is impossible. The significance of transcription and paraphrase for Liszt the composer cannot be overstated, and the mutual influence of each needs to be better understood. Undoubtedly, Liszt the composer as we know him today would be far different had he not devoted so much of his career to transcribing and paraphrasing the music of others. He was perhaps one of the first composers to contend that transcription and paraphrase could be genuine art forms on equal par with original pieces; he even claimed to be the first to use these two terms to describe these classes of arrangements. Despite the success that Liszt achieved with this type of work, others viewed it with circumspection and criticism. Robert Schumann, although deeply impressed with Liszt's keyboard virtuosity, was harsh in his criticisms of the transcriptions. Schumann interpreted them as indicators that Liszt's virtuosity had hindered his compositional development and suggested that Liszt transcribed the music of others to compensate for his own compositional deficiencies. Nonetheless, Liszt's piano transcriptions, what he sometimes called partitions de piano (or piano scores), were instrumental in promoting composers whose music was unknown at the time or inaccessible in areas outside of major European capitals, areas that Liszt willingly toured during his Glanzzeit. To this end, the transcriptions had to be literal arrangements for the piano; a Beethoven symphony could not be introduced to an unknowing audience if its music had been subjected to imaginative elaborations and variations. The same would be true of the 1833 transcription of Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique (composed only three years earlier), the astonishingly novel content of which would necessitate a literal and intelligible rendering. Opera, usually more popular and accessible for the general public, was a different matter, and in this realm Liszt could paraphrase the original and manipulate it as his imagination would allow without jeopardizing its reception; hence, the paraphrases on the operas of Bellini, Donizetti, Mozart, Meyerbeer and Verdi. Reminiscence was another term coined by Liszt for the opera paraphrases, as if the composer were reminiscing at the keyboard following a memorable evening at the opera. Illustration (reserved on two occasions for Meyerbeer) and fantasy were additional terms. The operas of Wagner were exceptions. His music was less suited to paraphrase due to its general lack of familiarity at the time. Transcription of Wagner's music was thus obligatory, as it was of Beethoven's and Berlioz's music; perhaps the composer himself insisted on this approach. Liszt's Lieder Transcriptions Liszt's initial encounters with Schubert's music, as mentioned previously, were with the Lieder. His first transcription of a Schubert Lied was Die Rose in 1833, followed by Lob der Tranen in 1837. Thirty-nine additional transcriptions appeared at a rapid pace over the following three years, and in 1846, the Schubert Lieder transcriptions would conclude, by which point he had completed fifty-eight, the most of any composer. Critical response to these transcriptions was highly favorable--aside from the view held by Schumann--particularly when Liszt himself played these pieces in concert. Some were published immediately by Anton Diabelli, famous for the theme that inspired Beethoven's variations. Others were published by the Viennese publisher Tobias Haslinger (one of Beethoven's and Schubert's publishers in the 1820s), who sold his reserves so quickly that he would repeatedly plead for more. However, Liszt's enthusiasm for work of this nature soon became exhausted, as he noted in a letter of 1839 to the publisher Breitkopf und Hartel: That good Haslinger overwhelms me with Schubert. I have just sent him twenty-four new songs (Schwanengesang and Winterreise), and for the moment I am rather tired of this work. Haslinger was justified in his demands, for the Schubert transcriptions were received with great enthusiasm. One Gottfried Wilhelm Fink, then editor of the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, observed of these transcriptions: Nothing in recent memory has caused such sensation and enjoyment in both pianists and audiences as these arrangements...The demand for them has in no way been satisfied; and it will not be until these arrangements are seen on pianos everywhere. They have indeed made quite a splash. Eduard Hanslick, never a sympathetic critic of Liszt's music, acknowledged thirty years after the fact that, Liszt's transcriptions of Schubert Lieder were epoch-making. There was hardly a concert in which Liszt did not have to play one or two of them--even when they were not listed on the program. These transcriptions quickly became some of his most sough-after pieces, despite their extreme technical demands. Leading pianists of the day, such as Clara Wieck and Sigismond Thalberg, incorporated them into their concert programs immediately upon publication. Moreover, the transcriptions would serve as inspirations for other composers, such as Stephen Heller, Cesar Franck and later Leopold Godowsky, all of whom produced their own transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder. Liszt would transcribe the Lieder of other composers as well, including those by Mendelssohn, Chopin, Anton Rubinstein and even himself. Robert Schumann, of course, would not be ignored. The first transcription of a Schumann Lied was the celebrated Widmung from Myrten in 1848, the only Schumann transcription that Liszt completed during the composer's lifetime. (Regrettably, there is no evidence of Schumann's regard of this transcription, or even if he was aware of it.) From the years 1848-1881, Liszt transcribed twelve of Robert Schumann's Lieder (including one orchestral Lied) and three of Clara (one from each of her three published Lieder cycles); he would transcribe no other works of these two composers. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, contrary to those of Schubert, are literal arrangements, posing, in general, far fewer demands on the pianist's technique. They are comparatively less imaginative in their treatment of the original material. Additionally, they seem to have been less valued in their day than the Schubert transcriptions, and it is noteworthy that none of the Schumann transcriptions bear dedications, as most of the Schubert transcriptions do. The greatest challenge posed by Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the composer or the nature of the transcription, was to combine the vocal and piano parts of the original such that the character of each would be preserved, a challenge unique to this form of transcription. Each part had to be intact and aurally recognizable, the vocal line in particular. Complications could be manifold in a Lied that featured dissimilar parts, such as Schubert's Auf dem Wasser zu singen, whose piano accompaniment depicts the rocking of the boat on the shimmering waves while the vocal line reflects on the passing of time. Similar complications would be encountered in Gretchen am Spinnrade, in which the ubiquitous sixteenth-note pattern in the piano's right hand epitomizes the ever-turning spinning wheel over which the soprano voice expresses feelings of longing and heartache. The resulting transcriptions for solo piano would place exceptional demands on the pianist. The complications would be far less imposing in instances in which voice and piano were less differentiated, as in many of Schumann's Lieder that Liszt transcribed. The piano parts in these Lieder are true accompaniments for the voice, providing harmonic foundation and rhythmic support by doubling the vocal line throughout. The transcriptions, thus, are strict and literal, with far fewer demands on both pianist and transcriber. In all of Liszt's Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the way in which the two parts are combined, the melody (i.e. the vocal line) is invariably the focal point; the melody should sing on the piano, as if it were the voice. The piano part, although integral to contributing to the character of the music, is designed to function as accompaniment. A singing melody was a crucial objective in nineteenth-century piano performance, which in part might explain the zeal in transcribing and paraphrasing vocal music for the piano. Friedrich Wieck, father and teacher of Clara Schumann, stressed this point repeatedly in his 1853 treatise Clavier und Gesang (Piano and Song): When I speak in general of singing, I refer to that species of singing which is a form of beauty, and which is a foundation for the most refined and most perfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, I consider the culture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch on the piano. In many respects, the piano and singing should explain and supplement each other. They should mutually assist in expressing the sublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. Much of Liszt's piano music should be interpreted with this concept in mind, the Lieder transcriptions and opera paraphrases, in particular. To this end, Liszt provided numerous written instructions to the performer to emphasize the vocal line in performance, with Italian directives such as un poco marcato il canto, accentuato assai il canto and ben pronunziato il canto. Repeated indications of cantando,singend and espressivo il canto stress the significance of the singing tone. As an additional means of achieving this and providing the performer with access to the poetry, Liszt insisted, at what must have been a publishing novelty at the time, on printing the words of the Lied in the music itself. Haslinger, seemingly oblivious to Liszt's intent, initially printed the poems of the early Schubert transcriptions separately inside the front covers. Liszt argued that the transcriptions must be reprinted with the words underlying the notes, exactly as Schubert had done, a request that was honored by printing the words above the right-hand staff. Liszt also incorporated a visual scheme for distinguishing voice and accompaniment, influenced perhaps by Chopin, by notating the accompaniment in cue size. His transcription of Robert Schumann's Fruhlings Ankunft features the vocal line in normal size, the piano accompaniment in reduced size, an unmistakable guide in a busy texture as to which part should be emphasized: Example 1. Schumann-Liszt Fruhlings Ankunft, mm. 1-2. The same practice may be found in the transcription of Schumann's An die Turen will ich schleichen. In this piece, the performer must read three staves, in which the baritone line in the central staff is to be shared between the two hands based on the stem direction of the notes: Example 2. Schumann-Liszt An die Turen will ich schleichen, mm. 1-5. This notational practice is extremely beneficial in this instance, given the challenge of reading three staves and the manner in which the vocal line is performed by the two hands. Curiously, Liszt did not use this practice in other transcriptions. Approaches in Lieder Transcription Liszt adopted a variety of approaches in his Lieder transcriptions, based on the nature of the source material, the ways in which the vocal and piano parts could be combined and the ways in which the vocal part could sing. One approach, common with strophic Lieder, in which the vocal line would be identical in each verse, was to vary the register of the vocal part. The transcription of Lob der Tranen, for example, incorporates three of the four verses of the original Lied, with the register of the vocal line ascending one octave with each verse (from low to high), as if three different voices were participating. By the conclusion, the music encompasses the entire range of Liszt's keyboard to produce a stunning climactic effect, and the variety of register of the vocal line provides a welcome textural variety in the absence of the words. The three verses of the transcription of Auf dem Wasser zu singen follow the same approach, in which the vocal line ascends from the tenor, to the alto and to the soprano registers with each verse. Fruhlingsglaube adopts the opposite approach, in which the vocal line descends from soprano in verse 1 to tenor in verse 2, with the second part of verse 2 again resuming the soprano register; this is also the case in Das Wandern from Mullerlieder. Gretchen am Spinnrade posed a unique problem. Since the poem's narrator is female, and the poem represents an expression of her longing for her lover Faust, variation of the vocal line's register, strictly speaking, would have been impractical. For this reason, the vocal line remains in its original register throughout, relentlessly colliding with the sixteenth-note pattern of the accompaniment. One exception may be found in the fifth and final verse in mm. 93-112, at which point the vocal line is notated in a higher register and doubled in octaves. This sudden textural change, one that is readily audible, was a strategic means to underscore Gretchen's mounting anxiety (My bosom urges itself toward him. Ah, might I grasp and hold him! And kiss him as I would wish, at his kisses I should die!). The transcription, thus, becomes a vehicle for maximizing the emotional content of the poem, an exceptional undertaking with the general intent of a transcription. Registral variation of the vocal part also plays a crucial role in the transcription of Erlkonig. Goethe's poem depicts the death of a child who is apprehended by a supernatural Erlking, and Schubert, recognizing the dramatic nature of the poem, carefully depicted the characters (father, son and Erlking) through unique vocal writing and accompaniment patterns: the Lied is a dramatic entity. Liszt, in turn, followed Schubert's characterization in this literal transcription, yet took it an additional step by placing the register of the father's vocal line in the baritone range, that of the son in the soprano range and that of the Erlking in the highest register, options that would not have been available in the version for voice and piano. Additionally, Liszt labeled each appearance of each character in the score, a means for guiding the performer in interpreting the dramatic qualities of the Lied. As a result, the drama and energy of the poem are enhanced in this transcription; as with Gretchen am Spinnrade, the transcriber has maximized the content of the original. Elaboration may be found in certain Lieder transcriptions that expand the performance to a level of virtuosity not found in the original; in such cases, the transcription approximates the paraphrase. Schubert's Du bist die Ruh, a paradigm of musical simplicity, features an uncomplicated piano accompaniment that is virtually identical in each verse. In Liszt's transcription, the material is subjected to a highly virtuosic treatment that far exceeds the original, including a demanding passage for the left hand alone in the opening measures and unique textural writing in each verse. The piece is a transcription in virtuosity; its art, as Rosen noted, lies in the technique of transformation. Elaboration may entail an expansion of the musical form, as in the extensive introduction to Die Forelle and a virtuosic middle section (mm. 63-85), both of which are not in the original. Also unique to this transcription are two cadenzas that Liszt composed in response to the poetic content. The first, in m. 93 on the words und eh ich es gedacht (and before I could guess it), features a twisted chromatic passage that prolongs and thereby heightens the listener's suspense as to the fate of the trout (which is ultimately caught). The second, in m. 108 on the words Betrogne an (and my blood boiled as I saw the betrayed one), features a rush of diminished-seventh arpeggios in both hands, epitomizing the poet's rage at the fisherman for catching the trout. Less frequent are instances in which the length of the original Lied was shortened in the transcription, a tendency that may be found with certain strophic Lieder (e.g., Der Leiermann, Wasserflut and Das Wandern). Another transcription that demonstrates Liszt's readiness to modify the original in the interests of the poetic content is Standchen, the seventh transcription from Schubert's Schwanengesang. Adapted from Act II of Shakespeare's Cymbeline, the poem represents the repeated beckoning of a man to his lover. Liszt transformed the Lied into a miniature drama by transcribing the vocal line of the first verse in the soprano register, that of the second verse in the baritone register, in effect, creating a dialogue between the two lovers. In mm. 71-102, the dialogue becomes a canon, with one voice trailing the other like an echo (as labeled in the score) at the distance of a beat. As in other instances, the transcription resembles the paraphrase, and it is perhaps for this reason that Liszt provided an ossia version that is more in the nature of a literal transcription. The ossia version, six measures shorter than Schubert's original, is less demanding technically than the original transcription, thus representing an ossia of transcription and an ossia of piano technique. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, in general, display a less imaginative treatment of the source material. Elaborations are less frequently encountered, and virtuosity is more restricted, as if the passage of time had somewhat tamed the composer's approach to transcriptions; alternatively, Liszt was eager to distance himself from the fierce virtuosity of his early years. In most instances, these transcriptions are literal arrangements of the source material, with the vocal line in its original form combined with the accompaniment, which often doubles the vocal line in the original Lied. Widmung, the first of the Schumann transcriptions, is one exception in the way it recalls the virtuosity of the Schubert transcriptions of the 1830s. Particularly striking is the closing section (mm. 58-73), in which material of the opening verse (right hand) is combined with the triplet quarter notes (left hand) from the second section of the Lied (mm. 32-43), as if the transcriber were attempting to reconcile the different material of these two sections. Fruhlingsnacht resembles a paraphrase by presenting each of the two verses in differing registers (alto for verse 1, mm. 3-19, and soprano for verse 2, mm. 20-31) and by concluding with a virtuosic section that considerably extends the length of the original Lied. The original tonalities of the Lieder were generally retained in the transcriptions, showing that the tonality was an important part of the transcription process. The infrequent instances of transposition were done for specific reasons. In 1861, Liszt transcribed two of Schumann's Lieder, one from Op. 36 (An den Sonnenschein), another from Op. 27 (Dem roten Roslein), and merged these two pieces in the collection 2 Lieder; they share only the common tonality of A major. His choice for combining these two Lieder remains unknown, but he clearly recognized that some tonal variety would be needed, for which reason Dem roten Roslein was transposed to C>= major. The collection features An den Sonnenschein in A major (with a transition to the new tonality), followed by Dem roten Roslein in C>= major (without a change of key signature), and concluding with a reprise of An den Sonnenschein in A major. A three-part form was thus established with tonal variety provided by keys in third relations (A-C>=-A); in effect, two of Schumann's Lieder were transcribed into an archetypal song without words. In other instances, Liszt treated tonality and tonal organization as important structural ingredients, particularly in the transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder cycles, i.e. Schwanengesang, Winterreise a...

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: PR.41641576L

UPC: 680160636549. 11 x 17 inches.

The 1712 Overture stands out in P.D.Q. Bach's oeuvre for two reasons, among others: it is by far the most programmatic instrumental piece among those by the minimeister of Wein-am-Rhein so far unearthed, and 2) its discovery has led to a revelation about the composer's father, Johann Sebastian Bach, that has exploded like a bombshell on the usually serene musicological landscape. The overture is based on an anecdote told to P.D.Q. Bach by a cousin, Peter Ulrich. Since P.U. Bach lived in Dudeldorf, only a few miles down the road from Wein-am-Rhein, he was P.D.Q.'s closest relative, and he was, in fact, one of the few members of the family who was on speaking terms with P.D.Q. The story, related to P.D.Q. (fortunately for us posterity types) in a letter, may be summarized thus: The town of Dudeldorf was founded by two brothers, Rudi and Dieter Dudel, early in the 18th century. Rudi remained mayor of the newborn burg for the rest of his long life, but Dieter had a dream of starting a musicians' colony, an entire city devoted to music, which dream, he finally decided, could be realized only in the New World. In 1712, he and several other bagpipers sailed to Boston, never to return to Germany. (Henceforth, Rudi became known as der deutscher Dudel and Dieter as the Yankee Dudel). Unfortunately, the head of the Boston Musicians' Guild had gotten wind of Dudel's plans, and Wilhelm Wiesel (pron. VEE-zle), known none too affectionately around town as Wiesel the Weasel, was not about to share what few gigs there were in colonial America with more foreigners and outside agitators. He and his cronies were on hand to meet Dudel's boat when it pulled into Boston Harbor; they intended to prevent the newcomers' disembarkation, but Dudel and his companions managed to escape to the other side of the bay in a dinghy, landing with just enough time to rent a carriage and horses before hearing the sound of The Weasel and his men, who had had to come around the long way. The Germans headed West, with the Bostonians in furious pursuit. soon the city had been left far behind, and by midnight so had the pursuers; Dieter Dudel decided that it was safe for him and his men to stop and sleep until daybreak. When they awoke, they found that they were in a beautiful landscape of low, forested mountains and pleasant fields, warmed by the brilliant morning sun and serenaded by an entrancing variety of birds. Here, Dudel thought, her is where I will build my colony. The immigrants continued down the road at a leisurely pace until they came upon a little church, all by itself in the countryside, from which there suddenly emanated the sounds of a pipe organ. At this point, the temptation to quote from P.U. Bach's letter to P.D.Q. cannot be resisted: They went inside and, after listening to the glorious music for a while, introduced themselves to the organist. And who do you think it was? Are you ready for this -- it was your old man! Hey, no kidding -- you know, I'm sure, that your father was the guy to get when it came to testing new organs, and whoever had that one in Massachusetts built offered old Sebastian a tidy sum to go over there and check it out. The unexpected meeting with J.S. Bach and his sponsors was interrupted by the sound of horse hooves, as the dreaded Wiesel and his men thundered on to the scene. They had been riding all night, however, and they were no spring chickens to start with, and as soon as they reached the church they all dropped, exhausted, to the ground. The elated Germans rang the church bells and offered to buy everyone a beer at the nearest tavern. There they were taught, and joined in singing, what might be called the national anthem of the New World. The melody of this pre-revolutionary patriotic song is still remembered (P.D.Q. Bach quotes it, in the bass instruments, near the end of the overture), but is words are now all but forgotten: Freedom, of thee we sing, Freedom e'er is our goal; Death to the English King, Long live Rock and Ross. The striking paucity of biographical references to Johann Sebastian Bah during the year 1712 can now be explained: he was abroad for a significant part of that year, testing organs in the British Colonies. That this revelation has not been accepted as fact by the musicological establishment is no surprise, since it means that a lot of books would have to be rewritten. The members of that establishment haven't even accepted the existence of P.D.Q. Bach, one of whose major works the 1712 Overture certainly is. It is also a work that shows Tchaikowsky up as the shameless plagiarizer that some of us have always known he was. The discovery of this awesome opus was made possible by a Boston Pops Centennial Research Commission; the first modern performance took place at the opening concert of the 100th anniversary season of that orchestra, under the exciting but authentic direction of John Williams.

SKU: PR.466411770

UPC: 680160640850. 9 x 12 inches.

Mississippi I. Father of Waters: born of the Highlands and the Lakes; the Glaciers, the Mountains, and the Prairies. The picture of your birth is clounded in the ice and mists of ancient ages but your spirit remains our life stream. II. The Red Man knew your bountiful gifts and gave thanks to the Great Spirit on your banks. -- The Spanish and French Fathers brought the glory of Christianity to America on Mississippi. But all men, white and dark; -- Indian, Spaniard, and Negro; Bourbon and Yankee, combined to make Mississippi the heart of America. Saga of the Mississippi Harl McDonald Born near Boulder, Colorado, July 27, 1899 Now living in Philadelphia The original suggestion for a symphonic work on the subject of the Mississippi came indirectly from the late Booth Tarkington who saw in it color and movement and atmosphere translatable into the terms of music. In the course of time, by the mysterious processes of composers' chemistry, it took shape as a tone-poem of two sections, one representing the rise of the great stream from its primeval geologic sources, the other the human history of the river. Mr. McDonald devised the following verbal outline of the general scheme of his diptych: I. Father of Waters: born of the Highlands and the Lakes; the Glaciers, the Mountains, and the Prairies. The picture of your birth is clounded in the ice and mists of ancient ages but your spirit remains our life stream. II. The Red Man knew your bountiful gifts and gave thanks to the Great Spirit on your banks. -- The Spanish and French Fathers brought the glory of Christianity to America on Mississippi. But all men, white and dark; -- Indian, Spaniard, and Negro; Bourbon and Yankee, combined to make Mississippi the heart of America. The first of the two movements, beginning molto andante, is vaguel modal to hint at antiquity. It is built upon the conventional two themes, with an episode, poco piu mosso, misterioso, for prehistoric murk and muck. There are various changes of pace and mood. The second, Allegro ma vigorosamente, prefigures an Indian ceremony. A theme presented by flute, clarinet and bassoon is a Canadian Indian fishing call collected by the late J.B. Beck. A later passage of quasi-Gregorian chant identifies the French and Spanish priests who made the great river their highway. The fishing-call is altered in rhythm and harmony to represent Negro field hands and roustabous. A turbulent close brings all these elemts together in the muddy swirling currents of the Mississippi. The work was begun in the summer of 1945, and was revised and completed in the summer of 1947. Harl McDonald, who is the manager of The Philadelphia Orchestra, has concerned himself with music as an art, as a science and as a business in course of his career. He was born on a cattle ranch in the Rockies, but since his was a musical family, his up-bringing combined piano lessons with ranch life. Years of study and professional experience followed in Los Angeles and in Germany. In 1927 he was appointed lecuter in composition at the University of Pennsylvania and he has since then made is home in Philadelphia. In 1933 under a grant of the Rockefeller FOundation he collaborated with physicists in research dealing with the measurement of instrumental and vocal tone, new scale divisions and the resultant harmonies. In that same year he was named head of the University's music faculty and conductor of its choral organizations. In 1939, having been a member of the Board of Directors for five years, he was appointed manager of The Philadelphia Orchestra. He continus to write, but otherwise his entire attention is now devoted to managerial duties. Chief items in the catalogue of his compositions are four symphonies, three orchestra suites, a half-dozen tone-poems, three concertos and considerable quantity of choral music.

SKU: WD.080689659171

UPC: 080689659171.

Ever wonder what it was like on that one starry night in Bethlehem long ago? That night when angels sang, shepherds rejoiced, and a young couple gazed at their precious, newborn baby boy. You may think you’ve heard it all before; that you know all there is to know about that night and that special baby’s birth. But until you’ve heard the story told by the animals who were there with Mary and Joseph, you just might be missing an important perspective on all that happened that first Christmas night! Now you can hear all about it in Raad Tidings We Bring…The Animals’ Christmas Story, new, from Christy and Daniel Semsen! The Animals’ Christmas Story begins with two revered “old-timers”… two celebrated “senior citizens” of the animal community in Bethlehem. Meet Ruthie and Eleanor; one, a wise old donkey, the other, a shall we say, long-in-the-tooth, camel, both reminiscing about the night when Christ was born. Our two old friends are joined throughout the musical by others who all came together to experience this miraculous birth. You’ll hear from birds on their way to Bethlehem for the census, meet theater mice and a thespian cat who entertain guests at the inn, and be introduced to a super-smart sheepdog and a super-chill flock of sheep- you know, those sheep who saw the angels on the hillside, outside of Bethlehem! Raad Tidings We Bring… The Animals’ Christmas Story, is a paws-i-tively amazing, meow-fully wonderful, hee-haw-fully marvelous re-telling of God’s love story…the story of a Savior, the story of redemption, the story of Christmas!

SKU: DY.DO-1522

ISBN 9782897963026.

Francis Bebey est né à Douala en juillet 1929, dans une grande famille où son père, pasteur, luttait pour nourrir ses enfants. Mais Francis a eu l'opportunité d'aller à l'école. Admirant son frère aîné, Marcel Eyidi Bebey, il s'est éduqué, s'est distingué, et a finalement reçu une bourse pour passer son baccalauréat en France.
Nous approchions de la fin des années 1950 lorsqu'il est arrivé à La Rochelle. Plus que jamais, dans cette France où les Africains étaient regardés avec curiosité, condescendance ou dédain, Francis s'appuyait sur ses ressources intellectuelles. Travailleur assidu, il a obtenu son baccalauréat, puis s'est installé à Paris où il a commencé des études d'anglais à la Sorbonne. Un jour, il a su ce qui l'attirait vraiment : il voulait faire de la radio. Francis a appris son métier en France et aux �tats-Unis.
Après avoir travaillé quelques années comme reporter, il a été embauché en 1961 en tant que fonctionnaire international au Département de l'information de l'UNESCO.
Parallèlement, Francis a toujours été attiré par la création musicale. Son activité diurne très sérieuse ne l'empêchait pas de fréquenter les clubs de jazz le soir. � Paris, le jazz, la musique à la mode à cette époque, mais aussi la rumba et la salsa l'attiraient. Il collectionnait les disques et assistait à de nombreux concerts. Avec son complice Manu Dibango, Francis montait sur scène et jouait de la musique.
Francis aimait la musique classique depuis son enfance. Il avait grandi en écoutant les cantates et les oratorios de Bach ou Handel que son père chantait au temple. Il s'est passionné pour la guitare, impressionné par les maîtres espagnols et sud-américains, et a décidé d'apprendre à jouer de l'instrument lui-même.
Il a commencé à composer des pièces pour guitare, mêlant les diverses influences qui le traversaient avec la musique traditionnelle africaine qu'il portait en lui depuis son enfance. Son approche a captivé le directeur du Centre culturel américain (alors situé dans le quartier de Saint-Germain à Paris), qui lui a offert l'opportunité de se produire devant un public. Francis y a donné son premier récital de guitare (1963) devant un public hypnotisé. Son premier album solo est sorti peu de temps après.
Progressivement, Francis est devenu reconnu comme musicien et compositeur. Plusieurs albums de l'ambassadeur africain de la guitare, comme le décrivait la presse, sont sortis. Il a également écrit des livres, au point que sa carrière artistique est devenue difficile à concilier avec sa carrière de fonctionnaire. En 1974, même s'il était devenu le directeur général chargé de la musique à l'UNESCO, il a fait le saut audacieux et a démissionné de cette prestigieuse institution pour se consacrer aux trois activités qui l'intéressaient : la musique, la littérature et le journalisme.
Il a exploré le patrimoine musical traditionnel du continent africain, notamment à travers le piano à pouce sanza et la musique polyphonique des pygmées d'Afrique centrale, ou en chantant dans sa langue maternelle et en composant des chansons humoristiques en français !
Le succès a suivi. Francis Bebey a parcouru le monde : de la France au Brésil, du Cameroun à la Suède, de l'Allemagne aux Caraïbes, ou du Maroc au Japon... la liste des pays où il a été invité à se produire, à donner des conférences ou à rencontrer des lecteurs est très longue. En plus de la reconnaissance publique, il bénéficiait de la reconnaissance de ses collègues musiciens, tels que le guitariste John Williams ou le Vénézuélien Antonio Lauro, qui l'ont invité à faire partie du jury d'un concours de guitare classique à Caracas.
Sa vie était le voyage d'un pionnier africain, un homme enraciné dans son patrimoine culturel et portant un message de partage et d'espoir pour le monde. Son originalité continue de résonner dans le monde entier depuis son décès à la fin du mois de mai 2001.

Francis Bebey was born in Douala in July 1929, into a large family where his father, a pastor, struggled to feed his children. But Francis had the opportunity to go to school. Admiring his elder brother, Marcel Eyidi Bebey, he educated himself, distinguished himself, and eventually received a scholarship to go and take his baccalaureate in France.
We approached the end of the 1950s when he arrived in La Rochelle. More than ever, in this France where Africans were looked at with curiosity, condescension, or disdain, Francis relied on his intellectual resources. A diligent worker, he obtained his Baccalaureate, then moved to Paris where he started English studies at the Sorbonne. One day, he knew what truly attracted him: he wanted to do radio. Francis learned his craft in France and in the USA.
After working for a few years as a reporter, he was hired in 1961 as an international civil servant in the UNESCO Information Department.
In parallel, Francis had always been drawn to musical creation. His very serious daytime activity didnâ??t prevent him from frequenting jazz clubs in the evenings. In Paris, the Jazz, the trendy music of that time, but also rumba and salsa attracted him. He collected records and attended numerous concerts. With his accomplice Manu Dibango, Francis took the stage and played music.
Francis liked classical music since his childhood. He grew up listening to the cantatas and oratorios of Bach or Handel that his father had sung in the temple. He became passionate about the guitar, impressed by the Spanish and South American masters, and decided to learn to strum the instrument himself.
He started composing guitar pieces, blending the various influences that flow through him with the traditional African music he had carried within since childhood. His approach captivated the director of the American Cultural Center (then located in the Saint-Germain neighborhood of Paris), who offered him the opportunity to perform in front of an audience. Francis gave his first guitar recital there (1963) in front of a mesmerized audience. His first solo album was released shortly thereafter.
Gradually, Francis became recognized as a musician and composer. Several albums of the African guitar ambassador, as described by the press, were released. He also wrote books, to the point that his artistic career became challenging to reconcile with his career as a civil servant. In 1974, even though he had become the General Manager in charge of music at UNESCO, he took the bold leap and resigned from this prestigious institution to dedicated himself to the three activities that interested him: music, literature, and journalism.
He explored the traditional musical heritage of the African continent, notably through the thumb piano sanza, and the polyphonic music of the Central African pygmies, or singing in his native language and composing humoristic songs in French!
Success followed. Francis Bebey traveled the world: from France to Brazil, Cameroon to Sweden, Germany to the Carribean, or Morocco to Japan... the list of countries where he was invited to perform, gives lectures, or meets readers is very long. In addition to public recognition, he enjoyed the recognition of his fellow musicians, such as guitarist John Williams or Venezuelan Antonio Lauro, who invited him to be a part of the jury for a classical guitar competition in Caracas.
His life was the journey of an African pioneer, a man rooted in his cultural heritage and carrying a message of sharing and hope for the world. His originality continues to vibrate around the world since his passing at the end of May 2001.

SKU: CF.CM9575

ISBN 9781491153970. UPC: 680160912476. 6.875 x 10.5 inches. Key: F minor. English. Mei-Li Medvar. Original.

When I found Born on a Fishing Boat in an issue of Poetry While You Wait in Colorado Springs, Colorado, I was immediately struck by Ms. Lius simple, evocative words. While I sat in the cafe on a cold January day waiting for my coffee, I closed my eyes and envisioned what it might be like to lie on my back in a small fishing boat and look up at the stars. I stole the free booklet of poetry and trudged home in the snow, already hearing the piano part in my mind. I would encourage anyone who is interested in learning more about Mei-Li Lius life and work to purchase her book Ten Thousand Miles from Home, published by Dragon Press (ISBN: 9780976137009). I sincerely hope I have honored her art with this setting. Born on a Fishing Boat I was born on fishing boat Lying in basket Ocean tide rocking me to sleep Papa fishing all-day and all-night Mamas washings hanging on line Above my head Misty sea washing my face Northern wind whispering to my ears Angel of sea kissing my forehead Beneath paper moon My little arms out from the cradle Out to the breeze Happy, born on fishing boat By the sea.
When I found aBorn on a Fishing Boata in an issue of Poetry While You WaitA in Colorado Springs, Colorado, I was immediately struck by Ms. Liuas simple, evocative words. While I sat in the cafA(c) on a cold January day waiting for my coffee, I closed my eyes and envisioned what it might be like to lie on my back in a small fishing boat and look up at the stars. I astolea the free booklet of poetry and trudged home in the snow, already hearing the piano part in my mind. I would encourage anyone who is interested in learning more about Mei-Li Liuas life and work to purchase her bookA Ten Thousand Miles from Home, published by Dragon Press (ISBN: 9780976137009). I sincerely hope I have honored her art with this setting. Born on a Fishing Boat I was born on fishing boat Lying in basket Ocean tide rocking me to sleep Papa fishing all-day and all-night Mamaas washings hanging on line Above my head Misty sea washing my face Northern wind whispering to my ears Angel of sea kissing my forehead Beneath paper moon My little arms out from the cradle Out to the breeze Happy, born on fishing boat By the sea.
When I found Born on a Fishing Boat in an issue of Poetry While You Wait in Colorado Springs, Colorado, I was immediately struck by Ms. Liu's simple, evocative words. While I sat in the cafe on a cold January day waiting for my coffee, I closed my eyes and envisioned what it might be like to lie on my back in a small fishing boat and look up at the stars. I stole the free booklet of poetry and trudged home in the snow, already hearing the piano part in my mind. I would encourage anyone who is interested in learning more about Mei-Li Liu's life and work to purchase her book Ten Thousand Miles from Home, published by Dragon Press (ISBN: 9780976137009). I sincerely hope I have honored her art with this setting. Born on a Fishing Boat I was born on fishing boat Lying in basket Ocean tide rocking me to sleep Papa fishing all-day and all-night Mama's washings hanging on line Above my head Misty sea washing my face Northern wind whispering to my ears Angel of sea kissing my forehead Beneath paper moon My little arms out from the cradle Out to the breeze Happy, born on fishing boat By the sea.
When I found Born on a Fishing Boat in an issue of Poetry While You Wait in Colorado Springs, Colorado, I was immediately struck by Ms. Liu's simple, evocative words. While I sat in the cafe on a cold January day waiting for my coffee, I closed my eyes and envisioned what it might be like to lie on my back in a small fishing boat and look up at the stars. I stole the free booklet of poetry and trudged home in the snow, already hearing the piano part in my mind. I would encourage anyone who is interested in learning more about Mei-Li Liu's life and work to purchase her book Ten Thousand Miles from Home, published by Dragon Press (ISBN: 9780976137009). I sincerely hope I have honored her art with this setting. Born on a Fishing Boat I was born on fishing boat Lying in basket Ocean tide rocking me to sleep Papa fishing all-day and all-night Mama's washings hanging on line Above my head Misty sea washing my face Northern wind whispering to my ears Angel of sea kissing my forehead Beneath paper moon My little arms out from the cradle Out to the breeze Happy, born on fishing boat By the sea.
When I found “Born on a Fishing Boat” in an issue of Poetry While You Wait in Colorado Springs, Colorado, I was immediately struck by Ms. Liu’s simple, evocative words. While I sat in the café on a cold January day waiting for my coffee, I closed my eyes and envisioned what it might be like to lie on my back in a small fishing boat and look up at the stars. I “stole” the free booklet of poetry and trudged home in the snow, already hearing the piano part in my mind. I would encourage anyone who is interested in learning more about Mei-Li Liu’s life and work to purchase her book Ten Thousand Miles from Home, published by Dragon Press (ISBN: 9780976137009). I sincerely hope I have honored her art with this setting.Born on a Fishing BoatI was born on fishing boatLying in basketOcean tide rocking me to sleepPapa fishing all-day and all-nightMama’s washings hanging on lineAbove my headMisty sea washing my faceNorthern wind whispering to my earsAngel of sea kissing my foreheadBeneath paper moonMy little arms out from the cradleOut to the breezeHappy, born on fishing boatBy the sea.

SKU: HL.345973

ISBN 9781540093141. UPC: 840126921199. 6.75x10.5x0.029 inches. Isaiah 9:6, Luke 21:25-28.

This thoughtful Advent anthem highlights different names given to Jesus by prophets and others longing for the newborn King. Inspired by the hymn, The King Shall Come When Morning Dawns, the rich, minor melody is easy to learn and underscores the mystical feel of the piece. Available separately: Unison/opt. 2-Part Treble. Duration: ca. 2:43.

SKU: WD.080689629174

UPC: 080689629174.

Word Music & Church Resources’ best-selling Unison/2-Part Choir, easy-learn, easy-sing imprint, the Very Simply Word Series, is proud to present its newest release, Noel, Christ Is Born! What better way to kick-off the Christmas season than with joyous songs of celebration? Your congregation will love these newly arranged songs, such as Christ Is Come with O Come, All Ye Faithful; Light of the World; The Wonder of It All, and more, specially arranged for unison/2-part choirs! Creating the perfect celebratory Christmas service, Noel, Christ Is Born! will be an impactful performance your choir and congregation will never forget.

The Very Simply Word Series is dedicated to providing you and your choir with impressive dynamics, and compelling, yet easy to sing arrangements. Whether you are looking for something for a smaller choir, a choir that is still learning, or a larger choir with little to no rehearsal time, Noel, Christ Is Born! will give your congregation an amazing Christmas performance in an accessible vocal part-writing format, perfect for any choir.

SKU: PR.11540233L

ISBN 9781491129418. UPC: 680160674367. 11 x 14 inches.

At Her Ladyship's Request (2016) was an idea born out of admiration for the wind works of Percy Grainger - most notably his Lincolnshire Posey. The names and places here are all fictitious. Four countrymen have come forward at Her Ladyship's request as we commoners (and for as long as I can remember) have been led to believe Her Highness has grown complacent in her aged betrothal to His Lordship. I. It has long been established in this hill country that young, svelte Tom Abel has caught her fancy eye. He knocks about with the swagger of a visiting dignitary, confident and cocksure. And then there is his father's fortune. Cecil Abel may be the richest man in the land save for His Lordship. Tom, his only son, will run his face straight into that pile the moment his old man kicks. II. It is rare to spy Father Daniel Bennett, High Priest from the Abbey at Lockwood Cross, loitering in our very own town square...but not as of late. III. Is Her Ladyship so desperate as to call upon Old Man Dimplesweet? Were you to confirm this, I would have straightened my back and spit the ground before you. Then I saw what could not possibly be misconstrued. And where is His Lordship anyway? IV. Pettybone! Conniving... insidious. I don't believe there has been a greater rivalry among men for generations. The Duke's ego alone could run our nation. The grudges he grows are notorious. His mount is legendary. The day has come to collect his toll.
At Her Ladyship’s Request (2016) was an idea born out of admiration for the wind works of Percy Grainger – most notably his Lincolnshire Posey.The names and places here are all fictitious. Four countrymen have come forward at Her Ladyship’s request as we commoners (and for as long as I can remember) have been led to believe Her Highness has grown complacent in her aged betrothal to His Lordship.I. It has long been established in this hill country that young, svelte Tom Abel has caught her fancy eye. He knocks about with the swagger of a visiting dignitary, confident and cocksure. And then there is his father’s fortune. Cecil Abel may be the richest man in the land save for His Lordship. Tom, his only son, will run his face straight into that pile the moment his old man kicks.II. It is rare to spy Father Daniel Bennett, High Priest from the Abbey at Lockwood Cross, loitering in our very own town square…but not as of late.III. Is Her Ladyship so desperate as to call upon Old Man Dimplesweet? Were you to confirm this, I would have straightened my back and spit the ground before you. Then I saw what could not possibly be misconstrued. And where is His Lordship anyway?IV. Pettybone! Conniving… insidious. I don’t believe there has been a greater rivalry among men for generations. The Duke’s ego alone could run our nation. The grudges he grows are notorious. His mount is legendary. The day has come to collect his toll.

SKU: CF.CM9635

ISBN 9781491157077. UPC: 680160915637. 6.875 x 10.5 inches. Key: E major. English, English. Abram Joseph Ryan (1838-1886).

Victor Johnson captures the mystery and nuance of the bittersweet poem, Wake Me a Song, by American poet, Abram Joseph Ryan. Nuance, text, and Johnson's rich harmonies paired with intertwining textures make this a noteworthy addition to any program. Also available for SATB Voices (CM9561).
About the Author Abram Joseph Ryan was born Matthew Abraham Ryan on February 5, 1838 in Hagerstown, Maryland. As a young man, Ryan and his family moved west St. Louis, Missouri, where he was educated at the Christian Brothers School. He studied for the priesthood at Niagra University in New York State and was ordained a priest in the Vincentian order on November 1, 1856. He taught theology, first at Niagra university and then at the diocesan seminary in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, until the beginning of the war between the states. Father Ryan enlisted in the army on September 1, 1862, and served as a chaplain throughout the conflict, carrying the wounded to safety and performing last rites on the battlefield. His first piece of poetry was inspired by the death of a younger brother while serving in the army. After the war, he established a weekly literary magazine in which most of his poetry was published. He also put out several volumes of poetry, including Father Ryan's Poems and A Crown for Our Queen. Father Ryan died on April 22, 1886 at a Franciscan monastery in Louisville, Kentucky. About the Song Wake Me A Song is an inspired and sensitive setting of the 19th-century poem by Abram Joseph Ryan. It features sweeping melodic lines, rich harmonies, and a flowingly beautiful accompaniment. To master a performance of this selection, singers must perform very expressively, paying close attention to such musical aspects as phrase shaping, the rise and fall of the melodic line, blending and proper intonation between sections. One strategy that could be used to ensure proper phrasing is the idea of Painting the Phrase. The singer should make a motion as if they have a paintbrush in their hand and paint the melodic line and phrase shape as if they are painting with a nice, flowing brush stroke. One could think about painting a rainbow or an arch to show the rise and fall of the line and/or phrase. The director can also show this gesture while conducting to reinforce this concept.
About the AuthorAbram Joseph Ryan was born Matthew Abraham Ryan on February 5, 1838 in Hagerstown, Maryland. As a young man, Ryan and his family moved west St. Louis, Missouri, where he was educated at the Christian Brothers School. He studied for the priesthood at Niagra University in New York State and was ordained a priest in the Vincentian order on November 1, 1856. He taught theology, first at Niagra university and then at the diocesan seminary in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, until the beginning of the war between the states.Father Ryan enlisted in the army on September 1, 1862, and served as a chaplain throughout the conflict, carrying the wounded to safety and performing last rites on the battlefield. His first piece of poetry was inspired by the death of a younger brother while serving in the army. After the war, he established a weekly literary magazine in which most of his poetry was published. He also put out several volumes of poetry, including Father Ryan's Poems and A Crown for Our Queen. Father Ryan died on April 22, 1886 at a Franciscan monastery in Louisville, Kentucky.About the SongWake Me A Song is an inspired and sensitive setting of the 19th-century poem by Abram Joseph Ryan. It features sweeping melodic lines, rich harmonies, and a flowingly beautiful accompaniment.To master a performance of this selection, singers must perform very expressively, paying close attention to such musical aspects as phrase shaping, the rise and fall of the melodic line, blending and proper intonation between sections.One strategy that could be used to ensure proper phrasing is the idea of “Painting the Phrase.” The singer should make a motion as if they have a paintbrush in their hand and “paint” the melodic line and phrase shape as if they are painting with a nice, flowing brush stroke. One could think about painting a rainbow or an arch to show the rise and fall of the line and/or phrase. The director can also show this gesture while conducting to reinforce this concept.

SKU: CN.S11242

Scenes from an English Landscape is a brief nostalgic tone poem taking its inspiration from visions of rural England as depicted in the paintings of John Constable, the novels of Thomas Hard, and the music of Gustav Holst and Ralph Vaughan Williams. A chorale-like theme is stated in the brass and then taken up at three times the tempo in the woodwinds. At the end of the work, both versions of the theme are stated together to bring the piece to a triumphant climax.

This is a brief nostalgic tone poem taking its inspiration from visions of rural England as depicted in the paintings of John Constable, the novels of Thomas Hard, and the music of Gustav Holst and Ralph Vaughan Williams. I imagined a community of villagers coming out of church and filling a village square with their vibrant presence. A chorale-like theme is stated in the brass and then taken up at three times the tempo in the woodwinds. At the end o the work, both versions of the theme are stated together to bring the piece to a triumphant climax. Adam Gorb was born in Cardiff and started composing at the age of ten. His first work broadcast on national radio was written when he was fifteen. He studied at Cambridge University (1977-1980) and the Royal Academy of Music (1991-1993) where he graduated with the highest honours including the Principal's Prize. He has been on the staff at the London College of Music and Media, the junior Academy of the Royal Academy of Music and, since 2000 he has been the Head of School of Composition at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester . International recognition came in 1994 with the US Walter Beeler Prize for his work Metropolis . With it began what has developed into probably the most important wind ensemble catalogue by a contemporary composer, ranging from extremely challenging to the most accessible, at all technical levels, seized on by players internationally, widely recorded and now absolutely central to the world's wind repertoire. Equally important though are his works for dance, and concert pieces like the chamber orchestral Weimar , the Violin Sonata , a Clarinet Concerto for the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra and Diaspora for strings (for the Goldberg Ensemble). Deceptively mainstream at first glance, they display the same inventive brilliance, pulsating sound world, striking use of rhythm and an undogmatic absence of stylistic hang-ups to embrace jazz and serialism in works where power, poetry, irony and pathos, often underlaid by a theatrical and deeply subversive element, coalesce in an integrated, highly individual musical voice. Gorb is also not afraid to draw on the vivid musical heritage of his Jewish roots, sometimes directly, often in a more subsumed or radically creative way. The crucial and consistent feature of Gorb's work though is that it communicates strongly without patronizing players or audiences. He firmly believes that if contemporary music - any music - does not impact on listeners then its message is irrelevant; it is lost.