SKU: PR.114419980

UPC: 680160681723. 9 x 12 inches.

The ancient Egyptian empire began around 3100 B.C. and continued for over 3000 years until Alexander the Great conquered the country in 332 B.C. Over the centuries, the Egyptian empire grew and flourished into a highly developed society. They invented hieroglyphics, built towering pyramids (including the Great Pyramid of Giza, the oldest of the Seven Wonders of the World), and the created many household items we still use today, including toothbrushes, toothpaste, eyeliner, black ink, and the forerunner of modern-day paper. Included among their achievements were a series of highly developed funerary practices and beliefs in the Afterlife. As the average lifespan of an Egyptian hovered around 30 years, living past the death of oneAs physical body was a legitimate concern. Egyptians believed that upon death, their souls would undertake a harrowing journey through the Netherworld. If they survived the horrific creatures and arduous trials that awaited them, then their souls would be reunified with their bodies (hence the need to preserve the body through mummification) and live forever in a perfect version of the life they had lived in Egypt. To achieve this, Egyptians devised around 200 magical spells and incantations to aid souls on the path to the Afterlife. These spells are collectively called The Book of the Dead. Particular spells would be chosen by the family of the deceased and inscribed on the tombAs walls and scrolls of papyrus, as well as on a stone scarab placed over the deceasedAs heart. Subsequent collections of spells and mortuary texts, such as The Book of Gates, assisted a soul in navigating the twelve stages of the Netherworld. Not only did these spells protect and guide the soul on this dangerous path, but they also served as a safeguard against any unbecoming behavior an Egyptian did while alive. For instance, if a person had robbed another while alive, there was a spell that would prevent the soulAs heart from revealing the truth when in the Hall of Judgment. Rites for the Afterlife follows the path of a soul to the Afterlife. In Inscriptions from the Book of the Dead (movement 1), the soul leaves the body and begins the journey, protected by spells and incantations written on the tombAs walls. In Passage though the Netherworld (movement 2), the soul is now on a funerary barque, being towed through the Netherworld by four of the regionAs inhabitants. We hear the soul slowly chanting incantations as the barque encounters demons, serpents, crocodiles, lakes of fire, and other terrors. The soul arrives at The Hall of Judgment in movement 3. Standing before forty-two divine judges, the soul addresses each by name and gives a A!negative confessionA(r) connected to each judge (i.e. A!I did not rob,A(r) A!I did not do violence,A(r) and so on). Afterwards, the soulAs heart is put on a scale to be weighed against a feather of MaAat, the goddess of truth. If the heart weighs more than the feather, it will be eaten by Ammut, a hideous creature that lies in wait below the scale, and the soul will die a second and permanent death (this was the worst fear of the Egyptians). But if the heart is in balance with the feather, the soul proceeds onward. The final stage of the journey is the arrival at The Field of Reeds (movement 4), which is a perfect mirror image of the soulAs life in ancient Egypt. The soul reunites with deceased family members, makes sacrifices to the Egyptian gods and goddess, harvests crops from plentiful fields of wheat under a brilliant blue sky, and lives forever next to the abundant and nourishing waters of the Nile. Rites for the Afterlife was commissioned by the Barlow Endowment on behalf of the Akropolis Reed Quintet, Calefax Reed Quintet, and the Brigham Young University Reed Quintet. -S.G.

SKU: PR.11642143L

UPC: 680160693320. 11 x 17 inches.

For most of my life, I never knew where my father’s family came from, beyond a few broad strokes: they had emigrated in the early 1900s from Eastern Europe and altered the family name along the way. This radically changed in the summer of 2021 when my mother and sister came across a folder in our family filing cabinet and made an astounding discovery of documents that revealed when, where, and how my great-grandfather came to America. The information I had been seeking was at home all along, waiting over forty years to be discovered.Berko Gorobzoff, my great-grandfather, left Ekaterinoslav in 1904. At that time, this city was in the southern Russian area of modern-day Ukraine; as his family was Jewish, he and his siblings were attempting to escape the ongoing religious persecution and pogroms instigated by Tzar Nicholas II to root out Jewish people from Russia. Berko’s older brother Jakob had already emigrated to Illinois, and Berko was traveling with Chaje, Jakob’s wife, to join him. Their timing was fortuitous, as the following year saw a series of massive, brutal pogroms in the region. After arriving in Illinois, Berko went on to Omaha, Nebraska, where he married my great-grandmother Anna about eighteen months later. They remained in Omaha for the rest of their lives.There is one more intriguing part to this historical account: I have a great-aunt in Texas who, as it turns out, is the youngest daughter of Berko and Anna. Through a series of phone calls, my great-aunt and I discussed what she could remember: her parents spoke Yiddish at home, her mother didn’t learn to read or write in English so my great-aunt was tasked with writing letters to family members, Berko ran a grocery store followed by a small hotel, and her parents enjoyed playing poker with friends. Above all else, neither of her parents ever spoke a word about their past or how they got to America. This was a common trait among Eastern European Jewish immigrants whose goal was to “blend in” within their new communities and country.To craft Berko’s Journey, I melded the facts I uncovered about Berko with my own research into methods of transportation in the early 1900s. Also, to represent his heritage, I wove two Yiddish songs and one Klezmer tune into the work. In movement 1, Leaving Ekaterinoslav, we hear Berko packing his belongings, saying his goodbyes to family and friends, and walking to the train station. Included in this movement is a snippet of the Yiddish song “The Miller’s Tears” which references how the Jews were driven out of their villages by the Russian army. In movement 2, In Transit, we follow Berko as he boards a train and then a steamship, sails across the Atlantic Ocean, arrives at Ellis Island and anxiously waits in line for immigration, jubilantly steps foot into New York City, and finally boards a train that will take him to Chicago. While he’s on the steamship, we hear a group of fellow steerage musicians play a klezmer tune (“Freylachs in d minor”). In movement 3, At Home in Omaha, we hear Berko court and marry Anna. Their courtship is represented by “Tumbalalaika,” a Yiddish puzzle folksong in which a man asks a woman a series of riddles in order to get better acquainted with each other and to test her intellect.On a final note, I crafted a musical motive to represent Berko throughout the piece. This motive is heard at the beginning of the first movement; its first pitches are B and E, which represent the first two letters of Berko’s name. I scatter this theme throughout the piece as Berko travels towards a new world and life. As the piece concludes, we hear Berko’s theme repeatedly and in close succession, representing the descendants of the Garrop line that came from Berko and Anna.
For most of my life, I never knew where my father’s family came from, beyond a few broad strokes: they had emigrated in the early 1900s from Eastern Europe and altered the family name along the way. This radically changed in the summer of 2021 when my mother and sister came across a folder in our family filing cabinet and made an astounding discovery of documents that revealed when, where, and how my great-grandfather came to America. The information I had been seeking was at home all along, waiting over forty years to be discovered.Berko Gorobzoff, my great-grandfather, left Ekaterinoslav in 1904. At that time, this city was in the southern Russian area of modern-day Ukraine; as his family was Jewish, he and his siblings were attempting to escape the ongoing religious persecution and pogroms instigated by Tzar Nicholas II to root out Jewish people from Russia. Berko’s older brother Jakob had already emigrated to Illinois, and Berko was traveling with Chaje, Jakob’s wife, to join him. Their timing was fortuitous, as the following year saw a series of massive, brutal pogroms in the region. After arriving in Illinois, Berko went on to Omaha, Nebraska, where he married my great-grandmother Anna about eighteen months later. They remained in Omaha for the rest of their lives.There is one more intriguing part to this historical account: I have a great-aunt in Texas who, as it turns out, is the youngest daughter of Berko and Anna. Through a series of phone calls, my great-aunt and I discussed what she could remember: her parents spoke Yiddish at home, her mother didn’t learn to read or write in English so my great-aunt was tasked with writing letters to family members, Berko ran a grocery store followed by a small hotel, and her parents enjoyed playing poker with friends. Above all else, neither of her parents ever spoke a word about their past or how they got to America. This was a common trait among Eastern European Jewish immigrants whose goal was to “blend in” within their new communities and country.To craftxa0Berko’s Journey,xa0I melded the facts I uncovered about Berko with my own research into methods of transportation in the early 1900s. Also, to represent his heritage, I wove two Yiddish songs and one Klezmer tune into the work. In movement 1,xa0Leaving Ekaterinoslav,xa0we hear Berko packing his belongings, saying his goodbyes to family and friends, and walking to the train station. Included in this movement is a snippet of the Yiddish song “The Miller’s Tears” which references how the Jews were driven out of their villages by the Russian army. In movement 2,xa0In Transit,xa0we follow Berko as he boards a train and then a steamship, sails across the Atlantic Ocean, arrives at Ellis Island and anxiously waits in line for immigration, jubilantly steps foot into New York City, and finally boards a train that will take him to Chicago. While he’s on the steamship, we hear a group of fellow steerage musicians play a klezmer tune (“Freylachs in d minor”). In movement 3,xa0At Home in Omaha,xa0we hear Berko court and marry Anna. Their courtship is represented by “Tumbalalaika,” a Yiddish puzzle folksong in which a man asks a woman a series of riddles in order to get better acquainted with each other and to test her intellect.On a final note, I crafted a musical motive to represent Berko throughout the piece. This motive is heard at the beginning of the first movement; its first pitches are B and E, which represent the first two letters of Berko’s name. I scatter this theme throughout the piece as Berko travels towards a new world and life. As the piece concludes, we hear Berko’s theme repeatedly and in close succession, representing the descendants of the Garrop line that came from Berko and Anna.

SKU: PR.114408750

UPC: 680160013289. 8.5 x 11 inches.

This work was commissioned by the Friends of the Phoenix Public Library for the dedication of the new Music Room and made possible in part through the funds from the Arizona Commission on the Arts, and Meet the Composer-Arizona. Diary of a Journey was composed between July and September 1995 for the group Arpeggio. During the early summer of 1995, my wife and I took a vacation to Prague and Budapest. It was the first trip for both of us to these former Iron Curtain capitals. The train ride through the beautiful country-side, the dilapidated small villages and towns, the magnificent architecture and the feeling of grandeur in the two major cities left an indelible impression on me. I longed to write some kind of an essay about it. Diary of a Journey is the result of some of these thoughts, which were sketched (musically) as we visited each place. There are four 'snapshots' or movements which do not portray a specific scene, but rather try to capture the impressions I gathered from the people we observed and met, and the many awe-inspiring experiences we had. Throughout the journey, I felt that people were clinging to a tenacious hope for a better future, no matter how long it will take to realize it. In the first movement each player portrays a struggle against all odds, and with great energy and even wit tries to overcome the obstacles, ending on one serene high note as a resting point after all the conflict. The second 'snapshot' tries to capture the deep faith of a newly regained religiosity. It is chant-like, and uses as its basic melodic material a famous Czech hymn, penned by the great religious reformer John Huss. This movement is played very freely, without bar-lines and with the hymn shining through the fervent chanting. The third movement is a kind of 'demonic' scherzo. Fast and furious, the three instruments vie with one another in a true perpetual motion frenzy, which is at times relieved by short, more pastoral melodic fragments. A rather wild ending should leave everyone breathless. Finally, in the fourth 'snapshot' the instruments play a bit more as a team, meaning that is that there is more melody with accompaniment, and more imitative music giving the impression of a group effort. The energy is still at a high level but long lyrical lines abound, accompanied and interrupted at times by undulating fast notes still depicting the struggle against the blight which any visitor notices all around these countries, yet also showing the determination of the people to conquer adversity. --Samuel Adler.

SKU: PR.114422710

ISBN 9781491136072. UPC: 680160688227.

DUO’s succinct movement titles (I. Here, II. Open, III. Stark, IV. Ardent) tease at revealing the grand and heartfelt inspiration for exuberant romanticism in this sonata-like work of symphonic proportions and depth. Charles Gibb is both an accomplished pianist and an award-winning flutist, who has written of this compelling major addition to the literature: “This work is a journey. What journey and whose journey does not matter. It is my journey, it is your journey. It is the journey of those who came before us, and of those who will come after us. I wrote this hoping that we can find each other along the road, so we can realize that we don’t need to go on the journey alone.” Gibb’s DUO is sure to become a favorite major work for flute recitalists.
This work is a journey. What journey and whose journey does not matter. It is my journey, it is your journey. It is the journey of those who came before us, and of those who will come after us. I wrote this hoping that we can find each other along the road, so we can realize that we don’t need to go on the journey alone.“Here” begins with three notes that shape the rhythmic and harmonic content of the entire work. Melodies and harmonies including the tonic, dominant, and leading tone can be found in each of the four movements. The first moments of this movement introduce the melody, offering itself unencumbered and uninhibited. It shows itself as it is. The melodies soar, the harmonies become voiced more intricately, and the opening theme repeats in full grandeur. The momentum slows down, and the movement ends with a sense of completion, yet remains unbalanced.A striking piano gesture launches “Open,” the idea of instability reflected with the flowing flute trills and unclear meter patterns in the piano. The sensation of an unsteady grace in 5/8 time arrives with a piano ostinato. The melody is expressive, yet insecure and unbalanced due to changing meters. After a grand pause, the movement transitions to 4/4 time with the flute switching between duplet and triplet flourishes. After a rapid descent in the flute, the opening gesture returns, changed and abruptly interrupted.The third movement, “Stark,” is very static, beginning plainly but markedly. The falling fifth calls out continually throughout the movement, searching, lost. Melodies appear in pieces, some smooth and flowing, others rather disjunct. The piece climaxes with a line of mournfulness, yet revealing a deeper strength through intense projection of tone in the high register. However, the static harmonies return, this time unsteady all the way to its foundation. This destabilization repeats, and then quietly recedes.“Ardent” is the longest of the movements and spans a wide range of musical emotion. Part of the movement is fast paced, energetic, and balances order and disarray. However, once the chaos dies down, a gentle, expressive theme comes in. The theme itself is very resolute; it is order appearing from the pandemonium. Conflict returns, and order and chaos become less distinguishable from one another, and soon fuse together. However, order returns with new meaning, synthesized with previous musical content, creating a truer, deeper sense of awareness or understanding. A moment of ambiguity arises, but the flute persists, supported by the sensitive but firm figuration in the piano, and resoundingly comes to a close, unburdened and at ease.

SKU: PR.140401330

ISBN 9781491134412. UPC: 680160684939.

Nathaniel Dett was among America’s leading composers in the early 20th century, and MAGNOLIA SUITE is a beautiful example of his rich, hybrid style. Deeply inspired by the music and mission of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, Dett’s piano music springs from the late Romantic traditions of florid texture and embellishment, along with programmatic titles and raw emotion. It is notable for melody writing inspired by and paraphrasing African-American song. The 18-minute MAGNOLIA SUITE contains five movements, any of which may also be performed separately. This edition by Lara Downes provides a clean, new engraving that corrects the many errors and unclear indications appearing in the historical printing.
Robert Nathaniel Dett was born in a place that was built on freedom. The little village of Drummondville, Ontario was founded by enslaved Africans – Dett’s ancestors among them – who traveled the Underground Railroad out of the American South into Canada. Their journey brought them to a safe haven, a place where fortunes and futures could be transformed in the span of one generation, to lives full of new possibilities. You could call it “the place where the rainbow ends,” which is the title of the last movement of Dett’s Magnolia Suite.When Dett wrote these pieces, he was a young teacher at Lane College in Tennessee, a historically Black college that had been founded in 1882, the year of his birth. A place built on freedom, with the purpose of educating newly-emancipated slaves – a place designed to nurture the blossoming of ideas, the vibrant flowering of minds set free. This music is inspired by the gorgeous splendor of the magnolia blooms on that college campus, and also by the shared histories, experiences, and aspirations of the community that Dett found there.These five pieces pay affectionate tribute to lineage and legacy. They express gratitude for the bittersweet beauties of the present; nostalgia for the past (a bit romanticized, as the past always is); and an effervescent optimism for the future that awaits us in the place where the rainbow ends.

SKU: PR.16500102F

ISBN 9781491131749. UPC: 680160680276.

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.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.465000130

ISBN 9781598064070. UPC: 680160600144. 9x12 inches.

Following a celebrated series of wind ensemble tone poems about national parks in the American West, Dan Welcher’s Upriver celebrates the Lewis & Clark Expedition from the Missouri River to Oregon’s Columbia Gorge, following the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. Welcher’s imaginative textures and inventiveness are freshly modern, evoking our American heritage, including references to Shenandoah and other folk songs known to have been sung on the expedition. For advanced players. Duration: 14’.
In 1803, President Thomas Jefferson sent Meriwether Lewis and William Clark’s Corps of Discovery to find a water route to the Pacific and explore the uncharted West. He believed woolly mammoths, erupting volcanoes, and mountains of pure salt awaited them. What they found was no less mind-boggling: some 300 species unknown to science, nearly 50 Indian tribes, and the Rockies.Ihave been a student of the Lewis and Clark expedition, which Thomas Jefferson called the “Voyage of Discovery,” for as long as I can remember. This astonishing journey, lasting more than two-and-a-half years, began and ended in St. Louis, Missouri — and took the travelers up more than a few rivers in their quest to find the Northwest Passage to the Pacific Ocean. In an age without speedy communication, this was akin to space travel out of radio range in our own time: no one knew if, indeed, the party had even survived the voyage for more than a year. Most of them were soldiers. A few were French-Canadian voyageurs — hired trappers and explorers, who were fluent in French (spoken extensively in the region, due to earlier explorers from France) and in some of the Indian languages they might encounter. One of the voyageurs, a man named Pierre Cruzatte, also happened to be a better-than-average fiddle player. In many respects, the travelers were completely on their own for supplies and survival, yet, incredibly, only one of them died during the voyage. Jefferson had outfitted them with food, weapons, medicine, and clothing — and along with other trinkets, a box of 200 jaw harps to be used in trading with the Indians. Their trip was long, perilous to the point of near catastrophe, and arduous. The dream of a Northwest Passage proved ephemeral, but the northwestern quarter of the continent had finally been explored, mapped, and described to an anxious world. When the party returned to St. Louis in 1806, and with the Louisiana Purchase now part of the United States, they were greeted as national heroes.Ihave written a sizeable number of works for wind ensemble that draw their inspiration from the monumental spaces found in the American West. Four of them (Arches, The Yellowstone Fires, Glacier, and Zion) take their names, and in large part their being, from actual national parks in Utah, Wyoming, and Montana. But Upriver, although it found its voice (and its finale) in the magnificent Columbia Gorge in Oregon, is about a much larger region. This piece, like its brother works about the national parks, doesn’t try to tell a story. Instead, it captures the flavor of a certain time, and of a grand adventure. Cast in one continuous movement and lasting close to fourteen minutes, the piece falls into several subsections, each with its own heading: The Dream (in which Jefferson’s vision of a vast expanse of western land is opened); The Promise, a chorale that re-appears several times in the course of the piece and represents the seriousness of the presidential mission; The River; The Voyageurs; The River II ; Death and Disappointment; Return to the Voyage; and The River III .The music includes several quoted melodies, one of which is familiar to everyone as the ultimate “river song,” and which becomes the through-stream of the work. All of the quoted tunes were either sung by the men on the voyage, or played by Cruzatte’s fiddle. From various journals and diaries, we know the men found enjoyment and solace in music, and almost every night encampment had at least a bit of music in it. In addition to Cruzatte, there were two other members of the party who played the fiddle, and others made do with singing, or playing upon sticks, bones, the ever-present jaw harps, and boat horns. From Lewis’ journals, I found all the tunes used in Upriver: Shenandoah (still popular after more than 200 years), V’la bon vent, Soldier’s Joy, Johnny Has Gone for a Soldier, Come Ye Sinners Poor and Needy (a hymn sung to the tune “Beech Spring”) and Fisher’s Hornpipe. The work follows an emotional journey: not necessarily step-by-step with the Voyage of Discovery heroes, but a kind of grand arch. Beginning in the mists of history and myth, traversing peaks and valleys both real and emotional (and a solemn funeral scene), finding help from native people, and recalling their zeal upon finding the one great river that will, in fact, take them to the Pacific. When the men finally roar through the Columbia Gorge in their boats (a feat that even the Indians had not attempted), the magnificent river combines its theme with the chorale of Jefferson’s Promise. The Dream is fulfilled: not quite the one Jefferson had imagined (there is no navigable water passage from the Missouri to the Pacific), but the dream of a continental destiny.

SKU: PR.161000820

UPC: 680160610822. 9 x 12 inches. Text: Santiago Vaquera-Vasquez; Dan Welcher. Santiago Vaquera-Vasquez, Dan Welcher. Original story by Santiago Vaquera-Vasquez; Lyrics by Dan Welcher.

Commissioned for the Kingsville (TX) Independent School District and its thriving music department, Welcher has created A Musical Fable for Children, based upon a story by Santiago Vaquera-Vasquez. A narrator tells the tale of two children on opposite sides of the border and the magical creatures who allowed them to see as the other sees. Welcher uses musical themes and instruments to help identify the characters for the audience. The musical play was performed at the Kingsville campus, as well as six other elementary schools in the district.
The Need to See is a theater piece for children, featuring a narrator/singer and five instrumentalists. Designed to show children (aged 8-10) a fable about acceptance and diversity, the work also exposes children to live musicians in a highly portable, suitable-for-classroom theater piece.The narrator/singer begins by teaching the children a well-known Mexican folk tune, “Naranja Dulce”, which leads directly into the story.  The fable concerns two figures from folklore: Don Conejo (the rabbit god) and Don Coyote (the coyote god).  These two trickster/adversaries take on the task of helping Isabella, an American girl, and Tomàs, a Mexican boy, understand each other’s culture—by means of a trick.  The two children, living on opposite sides of the Rio Grande in Texas and Mexico, have been taught to fear el otro lado (“the other side”), and to stay away from the river.  This causes both children to be nervous and afraid, and Conejo and Coyote decide to do something about that.Borrowing from another well-known tale, writer Santiago Vaquera-Vàsquez has the two trickster-deities perform a bit of hocus-pocus, exchanging the two childrens’ eyes for one day, so they can “see” through someone else’s perspective.  The result, told in two languages with narration, song, and constant music, allows the children in the audience to participate as singers, and also as spectators to a tale that has relevance and contemporary meaning.   Employing three familiar songs from Latin American culture (“Naranja Dulce”, “Tengo una Muñeca”, and “Mambru se fue a la Guerra”), the piece takes its audience on a journey both familiar and new—and ultimately enlightening.

SKU: CF.YPS252F

ISBN 9781491161913. UPC: 680160920594.

A new day. A new event. A new opportunity. We look forward to these things and the potential they hold. We live our lives looking forward, but we understand them looking backward (a thought of Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard). We do not always know what the future may hold, but we must remember: first, there are no guarantees beyond the time and opportunity we are given to do good. Second, change around us is inevitable. Finally, and the most important aspect, we have choices. This lesson is fixed to the composer's office door: Today is the greatest day of your life, if you want it to be. Why not look forward to the Promise on the Horizon and the possibilities for greatness that lie within it? The opening motif of this concert fanfare is purposely inquisitive as the piece seeks to establish its first steps. The subtle shift at measure 37 and again at measure 69 are reminders of the challenges that await us during the journey. Here again it is a matter of choice - do we choose to let circumstances define us, or do we define the circumstances? The section at 93 is a resounding answer that we will move barriers, overcome obstacles and keep our vision looking forward. The piece builds toward an exciting conclusion from measure 127 onward. The piece reinforces several basic rhythmic patterns in 6/8 time. As a number of these rhythms are repeated, it provides an easy opportunity for the entire ensemble to grow more comfortable performing in this meter. While it is a fanfare-type piece, remind young musicians to play with lightness and precision, rather than intensity in volume. Maintaining this style of articulation and accuracy helps the rhythms in 6/8 time maintain their buoyancy. It is vital that each musician listens for the melody and balances their part, especially in moments where the melody is passed between sections. If vibes are not available, a second bell set can be employed in its place. It is hoped that this piece is an uplifting way to open your next concert, and a meaningful opportunity for you to discuss the power of making positive choices with your students in the ensemble (as a reminder, regular practicing of their instrument is a positive choice). Wishing you and your ensemble well as you look to the Promise on the Horizon.
A new day. A new event. A new opportunity. We look forward to these things and the potential they hold. We live our lives looking forward, but we understand them looking backward (a thought of Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard). We do not always know what the future may hold, but we must remember: first,  there are no guarantees beyond the time and opportunity we are given to do good. Second, change around us is inevitable. Finally, and the most important aspect, we have choices. This  lesson is fixed to the composer's office door: “Today is the greatest day of your life, if you want it to be.” Why not look forward to the Promise on the Horizon and the possibilities for greatness that lie within it?The opening motif of this concert fanfare is purposely inquisitive as the piece seeks to establish its first steps. The subtle shift at measure 37 and again at measure 69 are reminders of the challenges that await us during the journey. Here again it is a matter of choice – do we choose to let circumstances define us, or do we define the circumstances? The section at 93 is a resounding answer that we will move barriers, overcome obstacles and keep our vision looking forward. The piece builds toward an exciting conclusion from measure 127 onward. The piece reinforces several basic rhythmic patterns in 6/8 time. As a number of these rhythms are repeated, it provides an easy opportunity for the entire ensemble to grow more comfortable performing in this meter. While it is a fanfare-type piece, remind young musicians to play with lightness and precision, rather than intensity in volume. Maintaining this style of articulation and accuracy helps the rhythms in 6/8 time maintain their buoyancy. It is vital that each musician listens for the melody and balances their part, especially in moments where the melody is passed between sections. If vibes are not available, a second bell set can be employed in its place. It is hoped that this piece is an uplifting way to open your next concert, and a meaningful opportunity for you to discuss the power of making positive choices with your students in the ensemble (as a reminder, regular practicing of their instrument is a positive choice). Wishing you and your ensemble well as you look to the Promise on the Horizon. .