SKU: ST.C498

ISBN 9790570814985.

What if you found out that someone had left you a precious gift? Someone you had never met yet somehow felt like you had known forever. Wouldn’t you want the chance to thank them for it? It Was a Sound is a collection of music and stories inspired by the life and playing style of the great Johnny Hodges. Twelve original compositions for Alto Saxophone & Piano are paired with twelve short stories about Hodges, his life in jazz and his quirky way of being.

Through playing the music and reading the stories, music lovers will gain a deeper understanding of the roots of Jazz Music and its cultural legacy. You already owe something to Johnny Hodges, even if you do not yet realise it. This book is suitable for Alto Saxophone players of Grades 1-5 standard, with illustrations by Kareen Cox and a foreword by Julian Joseph OBE.

‘Tom has thoroughly researched the genius of Johnny Hodges and has opened a gateway that lets the reader explore and experience the artistry of the master saxophonist. Excellent work!’
–Jean Toussaint

‘Fabulous quotes and thought-provoking questions. So informative, I love it.’
–Tony Kofi

‘A brilliant book which thoroughly captures the excellence of Hodges. With fitting musical examples aimed to inspire young musicians today, perhaps there will be another little Johnny Hodges in the making!’
–Camilla George.

SKU: BT.YE0001

It was a chance visit to a second hand bookshop in Nottingham that set me on the trail of Rossini's now well-known Duetto for cello and double bass. But the story begins earlier than that. In the 1960s I was studying the double bass at the Royal College of Music with Adrian Beers, who was at that time principal of the English Chamber Orchestra, on the front desk of the Philharmonia Orchestra, and a member of the Melos Ensemble of London (then one of the leading ensembles of the world). I was working on the 'Dragonetti Concerto', as most young players do, and I wanted to find out a bit about it. My teacher said he thought the autograph manuscript might be in the British Library,which was all the encouragement I needed to secure a pass to the Reading Room so I could go and see for myself.

There, sure enough, I found a large collection of Dragonetti's autograph manuscripts, together with other bound volumes relating to his life. The papers had been lovingly collated and annotated by Vincent Novello, one of Dragonetti's closest friends, then deposited in the library before his departure to Italy in 1848, two years after Dragonetti's death. One of the volumes included a lot of letters about various engagements and music festivals, copies of orders for strings Dragonetti wanted from Italy, details about paintings he wanted to buy, and numerous invitations to private functions. The manuscript of the 'Dragonetti Concerto', of course, wasn't among the papers â?? we now know it to have been written by Edouard Nanny a century or so later.

One name that came up regularly in the documents was that of Sir George Smart. Smart had been a violinist in Salomon's orchestra and had played for Haydn at his London concerts in the 1790s. As a child he had learnt much about music from his father, who had in turn been present at many of Handel's rehearsals when he was preparing some of his major works for the first time. Smart was also a fine keyboard player, becoming organist of the Chapel Royal in 1822. As a conductor.

SKU: BR.EB-9387

ISBN 9790004188576. 0 x 0 inches.

Commissioned by the Kolner Philharmonie (KolnMusik) for the non bthvn projekt 2020 and the Cite de la musique / Philharmonie de Paris Dedicated to Arditti Quartet Each movement of this quartet explores a single state, its lights and its shadows. Each movement, you could say, is a moment . And these moments could last for more or less time without compromising their essential nature. The processes could be extended or compressed, repeated or reversed, but the core ideas - if they are ideas, but maybe they are simply experiences? - are what they are. Despite this, the precise sequence of movements matters a great deal. Heard together they do articulate some kind of linear narrative, maybe even a metaphorical journey (albeit a circular one where the arrival might, who knows, prove to be a new departure). One situation gives way to another and instrumental relationships within the quartet vary, but ultimately the imaginative impulse behind the piece preferences states of unity. Whether or not this unity is expressed texturally - sometimes literal unisons pervade, but not always - there is generally a sense that even seemingly diverse aspects relate to a fundamental condition of concord: a conscious limitation in the pitch structure to spectral emanations of the root notes E-flat and C. At the opening this is unambiguously audible in the perpetual alternation of these two notes in the low cello register. Later the two spectra are woven into a micro-tonal 'double-spectral-mode' (derived from the first 24 partials of the C and E-flat fundamentals), which defines the subtle melodic inflection of the second movement, and the never-quite-chromatic ascending scales of the third. For now this feels like a rich source of melodic possibility, so far only just glimpsed... And why the insistence on E-flat? Probably by way of historical anecdote. Apparently Karl Holz (a member of the Schuppanzigh Quartet) said to Beethoven: We performed your Quartet in E-flat Op. 127 in his [Weber's] honour; he found the Adagio too long; but I told him: Beethoven also has a longer feeling and a longer imagination than anyone standing or not standing today. - Since then, even Linke (another member of the quartet) can no longer stand him: we cannot forgive him for this. Listening again to Op. 127, in light of these comments, I was struck by the opening moment: the unfolding of an E-flat 7th chord over the course of a few bars. Every time I hear it I find myself wishing that Beethoven would have lingered longer there, without resolution or progression, just enjoying that sonority. And maybe - why not? - tune the 7th naturally. And what would it be to stretch that moment into an entire piece? What would Weber think of that?! In the end I was not so extreme in my self-limitation, and other concerns took over, but it was from these thoughts that the composition process began... Lastly, about the title: it comes from a book called 'The Clock of the Long Now' by Stewart Brand, published at the turn of the millennium. It's about the creation of a thousand-year clock to embody the aspiration to thinking in terms of longer time-spans than are presently habitual. If the music of Beethoven embodied a 'longer' feeling and imagination than some of his contemporaries were able to appreciate, what is our relation to time now? Longer or shorter? Maybe it depends who you ask... It's probably more extreme in both directions: attention spans might be diminishing in the digital world, but conversely there is an awareness of distant pasts and potential futures which would have been inconceivable at the time of Beethoven. In any case, the interesting thing is to ponder how societal conditions, assumptions and expectations might - whether consciously or unconsciously - influence the time of art, for listeners and creators alike. And what if time is running out? (Christian Mason)

World premiere: Paris, Cite de la musique, January 14, 2020.

SKU: SU.96010061

Instrumentation: SATB Chorus, & Piano
Duration: 5'
Composed: 2012
Published by: Subito Music Publishing Minimum order quantity: 8 copies. Perusal copies are available by contacting (include the organization name with your request). To order quantities fewer than 8, please call customer service at (973) 857-3440.
About T.N.T

As a matter of practicality, when I was first asked to write a piece for the New York Theatrical Community Choir in 2005 by its music director, David Wolfson, I immediately decided to write a Kyrie. After all, I thought..., the text is only about four words and eliminated the need for a lyricist. Most appealing, however, was the fact that it would bring me one step closer to finishing the Massthat I was in the process of writing. If ever there was a case to be made for divine inspiration this appeared to be it. David Wolfson liked the idea and casually mentioned that there was another Kyrie and a religious hymn on the program. He also mentioned that the choir consisted predominantly of actors that sing.

Like a bolt of lightning, divine intervention interceded whereupon I instantly realized that he needed a piece to wake up the audience, not another Kyrie. I took a breath and spontaneously began to talk through and improvise the concept of a piece that became the basis for Taxi.

At that moment I was clueless as to what kind of piece I would write but it appeared to be a good idea at the time. David's reaction to my presentation was something like Okay,...I have no idea what you are talking about but let's try it. After a very successful public performance, he was delighted that I decided not to write a Kyrie and remarked that writ-ing a piece like Taxi for this group was like feeding raw meat to a pack of hungry lions. At that moment, the idea of doing a trilogy of similar pieces was born. For the last two seasons of the choir's existence I was asked to write a new piece and ... as a matter of practicality, I happily agreed.

-- Joe Gianono

Note: Taxi, Noise, and Time may be performed separately.

SKU: PE.EP72822

ISBN 9790577011769. 232 x 303mm inches. English.

I have only visited Damascus once, twenty years ago, on the way to Palmyra.  I had a purpose (I was writing music for a play about Palmyra’s Queen Zenobia) but essentially I was a tourist.  Like any visitor, I was thrilled to step out of the noisy modern city into the magical ancient world of the walled Old City, its vibrant souk leading to the magnificent mosque, and a labyrinth of winding, narrow streets filled with the smell of unleavened bread.

In Palmyra, I was met with extraordinary kindness everywhere.  On one occasion, a little Bedouin boy noticed that I was risking sunstroke wandering bare-headed among the spectacular ruins: he showed me how to tie a turban, then took me to have tea with his family in their tent.

Since then, I have watched helplessly as these places of wonder have been devastated and their inhabitants scattered and killed.  When the Sacconi Quartet suggested that I might choose a Syrian poet for our collaboration, I welcomed the idea.

I searched for a long time to find a contemporary poet whose work might gain from any music I could imagine.  I felt it was important to find first-hand accounts of the Syrian experience – but, of course, I was always reading them in translation.  In an anthology called Syria Speaks, I was astonished to read something that looked like prose, but was full of poetry.  It was Anne-Marie McManus’s fine translation of Ali Safar’s A Black Cloud in a Leaden White Sky – an eloquent, thoughtful, contained yet vivid account of life in a war-torn country, all the more moving for its restraint.

In setting these words, I have not attempted to imitate Syrian music.  However, there is what might be called a linguistic accommodation in my choice of scale, or mode.  Several movements are in a mode that I first discovered while writing a cantata commemorating the First World War: it has a tuning that I associate with war, its violence and desolation.  This eight-note mode is similar to scales found in Syrian music.  I did not choose it in the abstract: it emerged from the harmonies I was exploring in the earlier work, and emerged again as I was looking for the right musical colours to set Ali Safar’s words.  In this work, its Arabic aspect is more prominent. - Jonathan Dove

SKU: CY.CC3136

ISBN 9790530111055. 8.5 x 11 in inches.

This fine work has sat dormant for many years and has now come to light thanks to the efforts of Charlie Vernon, Bass Trombonist of the Chicago Symphony, who performed this virtuoso work as a young performer. The concerto is in the standard three movement form: Fast, slow, fast. This publication is a reduction from the original orchestral version (to be released at some point in the future). Here is a description of the Concerto by the composer, John W. Ware. I started on the trombone concerto in my junior year studying composition at Indiana University. While working on it, I learned of an opportunity to make it sort of a thesis piece (though students didn't write a thesis in composition while an undergrad). The original version was for trombone with string orchestra, and it was performed by the IU String Orchestra, conducted by Dr. Arthur Corra, with Robert Priez, trombone, as part of my senior composition recital. I thought the performance was quite good (Priez played extraordinarily well), and the piece received a newspaper review in the Indiana Daily Student, in which the reviewer wrote that the work was almost too exciting. I thought at the time that he had given me and my music a fine compliment. I made a piano version of the accompaniment, shortening and tightening the first movement, for performances in 1966; I made a second revision in 1967 for a performance by E. J. Eaton, trombonist at the University of Tennessee at Martin, arriving at the form in which the work exists now. The first movement is in fairly normal sonata-allegro form, in the key of A minor. It alternates between assertive and more thoughtful moods. There is no introduction; the soloist enters immediately and dominates much of the movement. The main theme is--by some manipulation--a source for most of the other themes, and all of the themes are used in close proximity to each other, including contrapuntal combinations, especially near the end. Originally the movement included a lengthy fugato, now much shortened and including a stretto that builds and subsides before a cadenza leading to a coda based on both the principal and secondary themes. Key relations in this movement, as in the other two, are quite free and often chromatic, with frequent third-relations; but returns to the tonic at the end are emphatic. The writing is challenging for both soloist and accompanist; the piece is substantial, requiring technique and stamina. The second movement is in F minor and is also built on both contrast and close relationships between the main and secondary themes. The main theme is heard in the piano part before the soloist enters. The mood is more lyric than in the first movement, but with dramatic episodes also. In this movement are some definite derivations from themes in the first movement. The ending is a sort of lengthened shadow of the opening. The finale returns to A minor, with themes slightly related to polonaise rhythms, but with strong echoes of first-movement themes. Here, too, dramatic and lyric episodes alternate, with dotted rhythms frequently propelling the music forward. The introduction is a brief and simple preparation for the solo entry. Later in the movement, a very brief, slightly slower section is soon overtaken by the original tempo. Toward the end, there is a second cadenza, again leading to a swift and energetic coda. The work is about 20 minutes in length and is appropriate for advanced performers.

SKU: BT.EMBZ6338

Béla Bartók composed his Piano Quintet while at grammar school in Pozsony (Pressburg, now Bratislava), and it still shows the influence of Brahms in its melody and harmony. The work was always resoundingly successful at his youthful concerts. When on 7 January 1921 the Waldbauer Quartet wanted to repeat the programme of a concert given ten years previously, Bartók was displeased that this early work of his should be performed once again. Finally he consented to the performance, and played the piano part himself. The quintet was greeted with tumults of applause, unlike the other pieces on the programme, which were written later. According to a communication by Márta Ziegler,Bartók threw away the score in anger, and for many years it was believed to have been destroyed. In 1963, the editor Denijs Dille received a package inside which were the score and parts, which had been thought lost. Denijs Dille wrote: 'In preparing the text of this edition for practical purposes, I used the autograph score, and Bartók's own handwritten parts for the first and second violins, viola, and cello. [...] Bartók made so many deletions and significant changes in the score that the resulting version was somewhat different from the original. In this edition we give the last version, supplemented with the minor changes and signs that can be found in the string parts.'.