SKU: PR.16500104F

ISBN 9781491132159. UPC: 680160681082.

Ever since the success of my series of wind ensemble works Places in the West, I've been wanting to write a companion piece for national parks on the other side of the north American continent. The earlier work, consisting of GLACIER, THE YELLOWSTONE FIRES, ARCHES, and ZION, spanned some twenty years of my composing life, and since the pieces called for differing groups of instruments, and were in slightly different styles from each other, I never considered them to be connected except in their subject matter. In their depiction of both the scenery and the human history within these wondrous places, they had a common goal: awaking the listener to the fragile beauty that is in them; and calling attention to the ever more crucial need for preservation and protection of these wild places, unique in all the world. With this new work, commissioned by a consortium of college and conservatory wind ensembles led by the University of Georgia, I decided to build upon that same model---but to solidify the process. The result, consisting of three movements (each named for a different national park in the eastern US), is a bona-fide symphony. While the three pieces could be performed separately, they share a musical theme---and also a common style and instrumentation. It is a true symphony, in that the first movement is long and expository, the second is a rather tightly structured scherzo-with-trio, and the finale is a true culmination of the whole. The first movement, Everglades, was the original inspiration for the entire symphony. Conceived over the course of two trips to that astonishing place (which the native Americans called River of Grass, the subtitle of this movement), this movement not only conveys a sense of the humid, lush, and even frightening scenery there---but also an overview of the entire settling-of- Florida experience. It contains not one, but two native American chants, and also presents a view of the staggering influence of modern man on this fragile part of the world. Beginning with a slow unfolding marked Heavy, humid, the music soon presents a gentle, lyrical theme in the solo alto saxophone. This theme, which goes through three expansive phrases with breaks in between, will appear in all three movements of the symphony. After the mood has been established, the music opens up to a rich, warm setting of a Cherokee morning song, with the simple happiness that this part of Florida must have had prior to the nineteenth century. This music, enveloping and comforting, gradually gives way to a more frenetic, driven section representative of the intrusion of the white man. Since Florida was populated and developed largely due to the introduction of a train system, there's a suggestion of the mechanized iron horse driving straight into the heartland. At that point, the native Americans become considerably less gentle, and a second chant seems to stand in the way of the intruder; a kind of warning song. The second part of this movement shows us the great swampy center of the peninsula, with its wildlife both in and out of the water. A new theme appears, sad but noble, suggesting that this land is precious and must be protected by all the people who inhabit it. At length, the morning song reappears in all its splendor, until the sunset---with one last iteration of the warning song in the solo piccolo. Functioning as a scherzo, the second movement, Great Smoky Mountains, describes not just that huge park itself, but one brave soul's attempt to climb a mountain there. It begins with three iterations of the UR-theme (which began the first movement as well), but this time as up-tempo brass fanfares in octaves. Each time it begins again, the theme is a little slower and less confident than the previous time---almost as though the hiker were becoming aware of the daunting mountain before him. But then, a steady, quick-pulsed ostinato appears, in a constantly shifting meter system of 2/4- 3/4 in alteration, and the hike has begun. Over this, a slower new melody appears, as the trek up the mountain progresses. It's a big mountain, and the ascent seems to take quite awhile, with little breaks in the hiker's stride, until at length he simply must stop and rest. An oboe solo, over several free cadenza-like measures, allows us (and our friend the hiker) to catch our breath, and also to view in the distance the rocky peak before us. The goal is somehow even more daunting than at first, being closer and thus more frighteningly steep. When we do push off again, it's at a slower pace, and with more careful attention to our footholds as we trek over broken rocks. Tantalizing little views of the valley at every switchback make our determination even stronger. Finally, we burst through a stand of pines and----we're at the summit! The immensity of the view is overwhelming, and ultimately humbling. A brief coda, while we sit dazed on the rocks, ends the movement in a feeling of triumph. The final movement, Acadia, is also about a trip. In the summer of 2014, I took a sailing trip with a dear friend from North Haven, Maine, to the southern coast of Mt. Desert Island in Acadia National Park. The experience left me both exuberant and exhausted, with an appreciation for the ocean that I hadn't had previously. The approach to Acadia National Park by water, too, was thrilling: like the difference between climbing a mountain on foot with riding up on a ski-lift, I felt I'd earned the right to be there. The music for this movement is entirely based on the opening UR-theme. There's a sense of the water and the mysterious, quiet deep from the very beginning, with seagulls and bell buoys setting the scene. As we leave the harbor, the theme (in a canon between solo euphonium and tuba) almost seems as if large subaquatic animals are observing our departure. There are three themes (call them A, B and C) in this seafaring journey---but they are all based on the UR theme, in its original form with octaves displaced, in an upside-down form, and in a backwards version as well. (The ocean, while appearing to be unchanging, is always changing.) We move out into the main channel (A), passing several islands (B), until we reach the long draw that parallels the coastline called Eggemoggin Reach, and a sudden burst of new speed (C). Things suddenly stop, as if the wind had died, and we have a vision: is that really Mt. Desert Island we can see off the port bow, vaguely in the distance? A chorale of saxophones seems to suggest that. We push off anew as the chorale ends, and go through all three themes again---but in different instrumentations, and different keys. At the final tack-turn, there it is, for real: Mt. Desert Island, big as life. We've made it. As we pull into the harbor, where we'll secure the boat for the night, there's a feeling of achievement. Our whale and dolphin friends return, and we end our journey with gratitude and celebration. I am profoundly grateful to Jaclyn Hartenberger, Professor of Conducting at the University of Georgia, for leading the consortium which provided the commissioning of this work.

SKU: PR.16500103F

ISBN 9781491131763. UPC: 680160680290.

Ever since the success of my series of wind ensemble works Places in the West, I've been wanting to write a companion piece for national parks on the other side of the north American continent. The earlier work, consisting of GLACIER, THE YELLOWSTONE FIRES, ARCHES, and ZION, spanned some twenty years of my composing life, and since the pieces called for differing groups of instruments, and were in slightly different styles from each other, I never considered them to be connected except in their subject matter. In their depiction of both the scenery and the human history within these wondrous places, they had a common goal: awaking the listener to the fragile beauty that is in them; and calling attention to the ever more crucial need for preservation and protection of these wild places, unique in all the world. With this new work, commissioned by a consortium of college and conservatory wind ensembles led by the University of Georgia, I decided to build upon that same model---but to solidify the process. The result, consisting of three movements (each named for a different national park in the eastern US), is a bona-fide symphony. While the three pieces could be performed separately, they share a musical theme---and also a common style and instrumentation. It is a true symphony, in that the first movement is long and expository, the second is a rather tightly structured scherzo-with-trio, and the finale is a true culmination of the whole. The first movement, Everglades, was the original inspiration for the entire symphony. Conceived over the course of two trips to that astonishing place (which the native Americans called River of Grass, the subtitle of this movement), this movement not only conveys a sense of the humid, lush, and even frightening scenery there---but also an overview of the entire settling-of- Florida experience. It contains not one, but two native American chants, and also presents a view of the staggering influence of modern man on this fragile part of the world. Beginning with a slow unfolding marked Heavy, humid, the music soon presents a gentle, lyrical theme in the solo alto saxophone. This theme, which goes through three expansive phrases with breaks in between, will appear in all three movements of the symphony. After the mood has been established, the music opens up to a rich, warm setting of a Cherokee morning song, with the simple happiness that this part of Florida must have had prior to the nineteenth century. This music, enveloping and comforting, gradually gives way to a more frenetic, driven section representative of the intrusion of the white man. Since Florida was populated and developed largely due to the introduction of a train system, there's a suggestion of the mechanized iron horse driving straight into the heartland. At that point, the native Americans become considerably less gentle, and a second chant seems to stand in the way of the intruder; a kind of warning song. The second part of this movement shows us the great swampy center of the peninsula, with its wildlife both in and out of the water. A new theme appears, sad but noble, suggesting that this land is precious and must be protected by all the people who inhabit it. At length, the morning song reappears in all its splendor, until the sunset---with one last iteration of the warning song in the solo piccolo. Functioning as a scherzo, the second movement, Great Smoky Mountains, describes not just that huge park itself, but one brave soul's attempt to climb a mountain there. It begins with three iterations of the UR-theme (which began the first movement as well), but this time as up-tempo brass fanfares in octaves. Each time it begins again, the theme is a little slower and less confident than the previous time---almost as though the hiker were becoming aware of the daunting mountain before him. But then, a steady, quick-pulsed ostinato appears, in a constantly shifting meter system of 2/4- 3/4 in alteration, and the hike has begun. Over this, a slower new melody appears, as the trek up the mountain progresses. It's a big mountain, and the ascent seems to take quite awhile, with little breaks in the hiker's stride, until at length he simply must stop and rest. An oboe solo, over several free cadenza-like measures, allows us (and our friend the hiker) to catch our breath, and also to view in the distance the rocky peak before us. The goal is somehow even more daunting than at first, being closer and thus more frighteningly steep. When we do push off again, it's at a slower pace, and with more careful attention to our footholds as we trek over broken rocks. Tantalizing little views of the valley at every switchback make our determination even stronger. Finally, we burst through a stand of pines and----we're at the summit! The immensity of the view is overwhelming, and ultimately humbling. A brief coda, while we sit dazed on the rocks, ends the movement in a feeling of triumph. The final movement, Acadia, is also about a trip. In the summer of 2014, I took a sailing trip with a dear friend from North Haven, Maine, to the southern coast of Mt. Desert Island in Acadia National Park. The experience left me both exuberant and exhausted, with an appreciation for the ocean that I hadn't had previously. The approach to Acadia National Park by water, too, was thrilling: like the difference between climbing a mountain on foot with riding up on a ski-lift, I felt I'd earned the right to be there. The music for this movement is entirely based on the opening UR-theme. There's a sense of the water and the mysterious, quiet deep from the very beginning, with seagulls and bell buoys setting the scene. As we leave the harbor, the theme (in a canon between solo euphonium and tuba) almost seems as if large subaquatic animals are observing our departure. There are three themes (call them A, B and C) in this seafaring journey---but they are all based on the UR theme, in its original form with octaves displaced, in an upside-down form, and in a backwards version as well. (The ocean, while appearing to be unchanging, is always changing.) We move out into the main channel (A), passing several islands (B), until we reach the long draw that parallels the coastline called Eggemoggin Reach, and a sudden burst of new speed (C). Things suddenly stop, as if the wind had died, and we have a vision: is that really Mt. Desert Island we can see off the port bow, vaguely in the distance? A chorale of saxophones seems to suggest that. We push off anew as the chorale ends, and go through all three themes again---but in different instrumentations, and different keys. At the final tack-turn, there it is, for real: Mt. Desert Island, big as life. We've made it. As we pull into the harbor, where we'll secure the boat for the night, there's a feeling of achievement. Our whale and dolphin friends return, and we end our journey with gratitude and celebration. I am profoundly grateful to Jaclyn Hartenberger, Professor of Conducting at the University of Georgia, for leading the consortium which provided the commissioning of this work.

SKU: PR.16500101F

ISBN 9781491131725. UPC: 680160680252.

Ever since the success of my series of wind ensemble works Places in the West, I've been wanting to write a companion piece for national parks on the other side of the north American continent. The earlier work, consisting of GLACIER, THE YELLOWSTONE FIRES, ARCHES, and ZION, spanned some twenty years of my composing life, and since the pieces called for differing groups of instruments, and were in slightly different styles from each other, I never considered them to be connected except in their subject matter. In their depiction of both the scenery and the human history within these wondrous places, they had a common goal: awaking the listener to the fragile beauty that is in them; and calling attention to the ever more crucial need for preservation and protection of these wild places, unique in all the world. With this new work, commissioned by a consortium of college and conservatory wind ensembles led by the University of Georgia, I decided to build upon that same model---but to solidify the process. The result, consisting of three movements (each named for a different national park in the eastern US), is a bona-fide symphony. While the three pieces could be performed separately, they share a musical theme---and also a common style and instrumentation. It is a true symphony, in that the first movement is long and expository, the second is a rather tightly structured scherzo-with-trio, and the finale is a true culmination of the whole. The first movement, Everglades, was the original inspiration for the entire symphony. Conceived over the course of two trips to that astonishing place (which the native Americans called River of Grass, the subtitle of this movement), this movement not only conveys a sense of the humid, lush, and even frightening scenery there---but also an overview of the entire settling-of- Florida experience. It contains not one, but two native American chants, and also presents a view of the staggering influence of modern man on this fragile part of the world. Beginning with a slow unfolding marked Heavy, humid, the music soon presents a gentle, lyrical theme in the solo alto saxophone. This theme, which goes through three expansive phrases with breaks in between, will appear in all three movements of the symphony. After the mood has been established, the music opens up to a rich, warm setting of a Cherokee morning song, with the simple happiness that this part of Florida must have had prior to the nineteenth century. This music, enveloping and comforting, gradually gives way to a more frenetic, driven section representative of the intrusion of the white man. Since Florida was populated and developed largely due to the introduction of a train system, there's a suggestion of the mechanized iron horse driving straight into the heartland. At that point, the native Americans become considerably less gentle, and a second chant seems to stand in the way of the intruder; a kind of warning song. The second part of this movement shows us the great swampy center of the peninsula, with its wildlife both in and out of the water. A new theme appears, sad but noble, suggesting that this land is precious and must be protected by all the people who inhabit it. At length, the morning song reappears in all its splendor, until the sunset---with one last iteration of the warning song in the solo piccolo. Functioning as a scherzo, the second movement, Great Smoky Mountains, describes not just that huge park itself, but one brave soul's attempt to climb a mountain there. It begins with three iterations of the UR-theme (which began the first movement as well), but this time as up-tempo brass fanfares in octaves. Each time it begins again, the theme is a little slower and less confident than the previous time---almost as though the hiker were becoming aware of the daunting mountain before him. But then, a steady, quick-pulsed ostinato appears, in a constantly shifting meter system of 2/4- 3/4 in alteration, and the hike has begun. Over this, a slower new melody appears, as the trek up the mountain progresses. It's a big mountain, and the ascent seems to take quite awhile, with little breaks in the hiker's stride, until at length he simply must stop and rest. An oboe solo, over several free cadenza-like measures, allows us (and our friend the hiker) to catch our breath, and also to view in the distance the rocky peak before us. The goal is somehow even more daunting than at first, being closer and thus more frighteningly steep. When we do push off again, it's at a slower pace, and with more careful attention to our footholds as we trek over broken rocks. Tantalizing little views of the valley at every switchback make our determination even stronger. Finally, we burst through a stand of pines and----we're at the summit! The immensity of the view is overwhelming, and ultimately humbling. A brief coda, while we sit dazed on the rocks, ends the movement in a feeling of triumph. The final movement, Acadia, is also about a trip. In the summer of 2014, I took a sailing trip with a dear friend from North Haven, Maine, to the southern coast of Mt. Desert Island in Acadia National Park. The experience left me both exuberant and exhausted, with an appreciation for the ocean that I hadn't had previously. The approach to Acadia National Park by water, too, was thrilling: like the difference between climbing a mountain on foot with riding up on a ski-lift, I felt I'd earned the right to be there. The music for this movement is entirely based on the opening UR-theme. There's a sense of the water and the mysterious, quiet deep from the very beginning, with seagulls and bell buoys setting the scene. As we leave the harbor, the theme (in a canon between solo euphonium and tuba) almost seems as if large subaquatic animals are observing our departure. There are three themes (call them A, B and C) in this seafaring journey---but they are all based on the UR theme, in its original form with octaves displaced, in an upside-down form, and in a backwards version as well. (The ocean, while appearing to be unchanging, is always changing.) We move out into the main channel (A), passing several islands (B), until we reach the long draw that parallels the coastline called Eggemoggin Reach, and a sudden burst of new speed (C). Things suddenly stop, as if the wind had died, and we have a vision: is that really Mt. Desert Island we can see off the port bow, vaguely in the distance? A chorale of saxophones seems to suggest that. We push off anew as the chorale ends, and go through all three themes again---but in different instrumentations, and different keys. At the final tack-turn, there it is, for real: Mt. Desert Island, big as life. We've made it. As we pull into the harbor, where we'll secure the boat for the night, there's a feeling of achievement. Our whale and dolphin friends return, and we end our journey with gratitude and celebration. I am profoundly grateful to Jaclyn Hartenberger, Professor of Conducting at the University of Georgia, for leading the consortium which provided the commissioning of this work.

SKU: HL.847221

ISBN 9780793521463. UPC: 073999472219. 9x12 inches.

89 of the greatest songs from the legends of Liverpool, including: All You Need Is Love * And I Love Her * The Fool on the Hill * Got to Get You Into My Life * Here, There, and Everywhere * Let It Be * Norwegian Wood * Something * Ticket to Ride * and more.

SKU: PR.11641963SP

UPC: 680160684496.

The violin concerto is commissioned by Friends of Dresden Music Foundation for American soloist Mira Wang and the New York Philharmonic and Staatskapelle Dresden as an American commemoration of the reconstruction of the Dresden Frauenkirche, 60 years after its destruction in World War II by American and British Forces. The world premiere is given at the Semperoper in Dresden, Germany, on October 9, 10 & 11, 2005, conducted by Ivan Fischer. Full of excitement and inner power, the musical image is vivid, energetic, sometimes lyrical and sometimes dramatic. The major angular thematic material (a three note motive) consists of big leaps in interval (a perfect fourth downward and then a minor seventh upward, first introduced by the violin solo in measures 27-29). Except for the cadenzas which stand at the middle (Rehearsal E, measure 127) and the two ends of the piece as a frame, the virtuosic violin solo line is always accompanied by the ever moving and growing textures in the background. The rests between long and short phrases symbolize the space in Chinese paintings. The Beijing Opera reciting tune, and the fingerings to produce sliding tones in the performance of the Chinese fiddle erhu are also borrowed in the writing and the performing of the western instruments. The musical imagination of the violin concerto came from an ancient Chinese poem with the same title, written by Du Fu (712-770) in Tang Dynasty. Happy Rain on a Spring Night by Du Fu (712-770 in Tang Dynasty) Happy rain comes in time, When spring is in its prime. With night breeze it will fall, And quietly moisten all. Clouds darken wild roads, Light brightens a little boat. Saturated at dawn, With flowers blooming the town. (English translation by Chen Yi from the original poem in Chinese) The following is the poem in its original Chinese form, and the detailed introduction on the structural plan of the violin concerto Spring in Dresden. It's like the welcome rain on a quiet spring night that nurtures the budding seeds, our new society is pushing us forward to the new future. The music reflects the scenes and the expression according to the meaning of the poem when it's being unfolded line by line. Although the tempo is set 63 quarter notes per minute throughout (played vividly, never slow down), the tension is being built up from the quiet background in the beginning, to the sustained climax towards the end. The musical image in Rehearsal A and B (measures 39-80) represents the first four lines of the poem. The wind instruments response to the rustling of fast moving notes on muted string triplets, decorated by occasional strokes produced by metallic string sound and high woodwind gestures. The music in Rehearsal C and D (measures 81-126) represents the next two lines of the poem. It's so dark, a little light in the boat is shimmering on the lake... The breathy sound and key slaps on the flutes create a mysterious atmosphere, in a dialogue with other instruments. The cello glissandi recite the poem in the tone of Mandarin, echoed by the string harmonics. The music in Rehearsal F, G and H (m 129-202) is a toccata, starting in the orchestra (led by the marimba), which builds up a big shape, to reach the climax in m. 157 (Rehearsal G, the location of the Golden Section, according to the length of the music without cadenzas), and keeps the vivid scene towards the coda (from Rehearsal I, m. 203), which stands on the energetic peak until the clear cutoff on measure 239, followed by the short, yet powerful solo conclusion with the lingering echo produced by the high string harmonics. On the top, there is a recall of the three note motive in the sound of wonderland, touched by the motor-on vibraphone meaningfully. The music is written for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets (in Bb), 2 bassoons, 4 French horns (in F), 2 trumpets (in Bb), 3 trombones, tuba, harp, 3 percussion players (Perc. 1: xylophone; Perc. 2: suspended cymbal, Japanese high woodblock, snare drum, bass drum and vibraphone; Perc. 3: marimba and tam-tam), solo violin, and strings. Duration is about 20 minutes.
The violin concerto is commissioned by Friends of Dresden Music Foundation for American soloist Mira Wang and the New York Philharmonic and Staatskapelle Dresden as an American commemoration of the reconstruction of the Dresden Frauenkirche, 60 years after its destruction in World War II by American and British Forces. The world premiere is given at the Semperoper in Dresden, Germany, on October 9, 10 & 11, 2005, conducted by Ivan Fischer.Full of excitement and inner power, the musical image is vivid, energetic, sometimeslyrical and sometimes dramatic. The major angular thematic material (a three notemotive) consists of big leaps in interval (a perfect fourth downward and then a minorseventh upward, first introduced by the violin solo in measures 27-29). Except for thecadenzas which stand at the middle (Rehearsal E, measure 127) and the two ends of the piece as a frame, the virtuosic violin solo line is always accompanied by the ever moving and growing textures in the background. The rests between long and short phrases symbolize the space in Chinese paintings. The Beijing Opera reciting tune, and the fingerings to produce sliding tones in the performance of the Chinese fiddle erhu are also borrowed in the writing and the performing of the western instruments.The musical imagination of the violin concerto came from an ancient Chinese poem with the same title, written by Du Fu (712-770) in Tang Dynasty.Happy Rain on a Spring Nightby Du Fu (712-770 in Tang Dynasty)Happy rain comes in time,When spring is in its prime.With night breeze it will fall,And quietly moisten all.Clouds darken wild roads,Light brightens a little boat.Saturated at dawn,With flowers blooming the town.(English translation by Chen Yi from the original poem in Chinese)The following is the poem in its original Chinese form, and the detailed introduction onthe structural plan of the violin concerto Spring in Dresden.It’s like the welcome rain on a quiet spring night that nurtures the budding seeds, our newsociety is pushing us forward to the new future. The music reflects the scenes and theexpression according to the meaning of the poem when it’s being unfolded line by line.Although the tempo is set 63 quarter notes per minute throughout (played vividly, neverslow down), the tension is being built up from the quiet background in the beginning, tothe sustained climax towards the end. The musical image in Rehearsal A and B (measures39-80) represents the first four lines of the poem. The wind instruments response to therustling of fast moving notes on muted string triplets, decorated by occasional strokesproduced by metallic string sound and high woodwind gestures. The music in RehearsalC and D (measures 81-126) represents the next two lines of the poem. It's so dark, a littlelight in the boat is shimmering on the lake... The breathy sound and key slaps on theflutes create a mysterious atmosphere, in a dialogue with other instruments. The celloglissandi recite the poem in the tone of Mandarin, echoed by the string harmonics. Themusic in Rehearsal F, G and H (m 129-202) is a toccata, starting in the orchestra (led bythe marimba), which builds up a big shape, to reach the climax in m. 157 (Rehearsal G,the location of the Golden Section, according to the length of the music withoutcadenzas), and keeps the vivid scene towards the coda (from Rehearsal I, m. 203), whichstands on the energetic peak until the clear cutoff on measure 239, followed by the short,yet powerful solo conclusion with the lingering echo produced by the high stringharmonics. On the top, there is a recall of the three note motive in the sound ofwonderland, touched by the motor-on vibraphone meaningfully.The music is written for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets (in Bb), 2 bassoons, 4 French horns (in F), 2 trumpets (in Bb), 3 trombones, tuba, harp, 3 percussion players (Perc. 1:xylophone; Perc. 2: suspended cymbal, Japanese high woodblock, snare drum, bass drum and vibraphone; Perc. 3: marimba and tam-tam), solo violin, and strings.Duration is about 20 minutes.

SKU: YM.GTL01101984

ISBN 9784636116366. 12 x 9 inches.

This book is a collection of sheet music for solo guitar performances of Music of Studio Ghibli Films.A total of 26 popular songs from Studio Ghibli films, including ‘My Neighbour Totoro,’ ‘Princess Mononoke’ and ‘Howl's Moving Castle,’ in both musical notation and tablature. Each song is beautifully and tastefully arranged for solo guitar, both melody and accompaniment played by one person. Some of the songs are a little difficult to arrange, but we are sure that you will have fun with them!