SKU: CF.PL1056

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

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

SKU: CF.YPS231

ISBN 9781491157831. UPC: 680160916436. 9 x 12 inches.

The life of railroad worker in the early days of expansion was lonely, and the need for music to bolster spirits was of great importance. The character singing 900 Miles is looking forward to being reunited with his family after being separated from them for considerable time. The Wayfaring Stranger is a prominent American folk and gospel song that reflects upon the journey through life. The character in that song contemplates better times with their family in the afterlife. Both of these songs speak to the idea of searching for something beyond the current situation in which that person finds themselves. The programmatic qualities of the work are essentially tied to the main folk songa900 Milesaand they evoke the idea of where the song found its origins. Beyond that, both songs connect each of us to the sense of belonging and family that are the human experience. While the music paints a picture of someone who is alone, that is not a feeling I want for any young student in our schools today. Band is one of the few places where students can discover that sense of belonging and find a surrogate family. While band is a family that might not always get along, they can reach a shared goal through diligent work, caring and encouragement. It was a pleasure completing Lonely Travelers for longtime friend, superb musician, excellent educator and dedicated leader in music education Dennis Emert. His students debuted the work at the 2020 PMEA State Conference. I am deeply appreciative of Dennis and the friendship, encouragement and perspective he shared with me over the years teaching in the same region. The opening flute, clarinet and alto saxophone part can be performed by the entire section or as a solo at the discretion of the director. The washboard and spoon part can be doubled as players allow. I would suggest bringing these students to the front of the stage to get the sound of both instruments to the audience. As the piece develops and Wayfaring Stranger is layered with 900 Miles, please remind your ensemble to play so they can hear each other, not so they are individually heard. I thank you and your ensemble in advance as you begin this journey together in search of Lonely Travelers.
The life of railroad worker in the early days of expansion was lonely, and the need for music to bolster spirits was of great importance. The character singing 900 Miles is looking forward to being reunited with his family after being separated from them for considerable time. The Wayfaring Stranger is a prominent American folk and gospel song that reflects upon the journey through life. The character in that song contemplates better times with their family in the afterlife. Both of these songs speak to the idea of searching for something beyond the current situation in which that person finds themselves. The programmatic qualities of the work are essentially tied to the main folk song--900 Miles--and they evoke the idea of where the song found its origins. Beyond that, both songs connect each of us to the sense of belonging and family that are the human experience. While the music paints a picture of someone who is alone, that is not a feeling I want for any young student in our schools today. Band is one of the few places where students can discover that sense of belonging and find a surrogate family. While band is a family that might not always get along, they can reach a shared goal through diligent work, caring and encouragement. It was a pleasure completing Lonely Travelers for longtime friend, superb musician, excellent educator and dedicated leader in music education Dennis Emert. His students debuted the work at the 2020 PMEA State Conference. I am deeply appreciative of Dennis and the friendship, encouragement and perspective he shared with me over the years teaching in the same region. The opening flute, clarinet and alto saxophone part can be performed by the entire section or as a solo at the discretion of the director. The washboard and spoon part can be doubled as players allow. I would suggest bringing these students to the front of the stage to get the sound of both instruments to the audience. As the piece develops and Wayfaring Stranger is layered with 900 Miles, please remind your ensemble to play so they can hear each other, not so they are individually heard. I thank you and your ensemble in advance as you begin this journey together in search of Lonely Travelers.
The life of railroad worker in the early days of expansion was lonely, and the need for music to bolster spirits was of great importance. The character singing 900 Miles is looking forward to being reunited with his family after being separated from them for considerable time. The Wayfaring Stranger is a prominent American folk and gospel song that reflects upon the journey through life. The character in that song contemplates better times with their family in the afterlife. Both of these songs speak to the idea of searching for something beyond the current situation in which that person finds themselves. The programmatic qualities of the work are essentially tied to the main folk song—900 Miles—and they evoke the idea of where the song found its origins. Beyond that, both songs connect each of us to the sense of belonging and family that are the human experience.While the music paints a picture of someone who is alone, that is not a feeling I want for any young student in our schools today. Band is one of the few places where students can discover that sense of belonging and find a surrogate family. While band is a family that might not always get along, they can reach a shared goal through diligent work, caring and encouragement. It was a pleasure completing Lonely Travelers for longtime friend, superb musician, excellent educator and dedicated leader in music education Dennis Emert. His students debuted the work at the 2020 PMEA State Conference. I am deeply appreciative of Dennis and the friendship, encouragement and perspective he shared with me over the years teaching in the same region.The opening flute, clarinet and alto saxophone part can be performed by the entire section or as a solo at the discretion of the director. The washboard and spoon part can be doubled as players allow. I would suggest bringing these students to the front of the stage to get the sound of both instruments to the audience. As the piece develops and Wayfaring Stranger is layered with 900 Miles, please remind your ensemble to play so they can hear each other, not so they are individually heard. I thank you and your ensemble in advance as you begin this journey together in search of Lonely Travelers.

SKU: CF.YPS231F

ISBN 9781491157824. UPC: 680160916429. 9 x 12 inches.

The life of railroad worker in the early days of expansion was lonely, and the need for music to bolster spirits was of great importance. The character singing 900 Miles is looking forward to being reunited with his family after being separated from them for considerable time. The Wayfaring Stranger is a prominent American folk and gospel song that reflects upon the journey through life. The character in that song contemplates better times with their family in the afterlife. Both of these songs speak to the idea of searching for something beyond the current situation in which that person finds themselves. The programmatic qualities of the work are essentially tied to the main folk songa900 Milesaand they evoke the idea of where the song found its origins. Beyond that, both songs connect each of us to the sense of belonging and family that are the human experience. While the music paints a picture of someone who is alone, that is not a feeling I want for any young student in our schools today. Band is one of the few places where students can discover that sense of belonging and find a surrogate family. While band is a family that might not always get along, they can reach a shared goal through diligent work, caring and encouragement. It was a pleasure completing Lonely Travelers for longtime friend, superb musician, excellent educator and dedicated leader in music education Dennis Emert. His students debuted the work at the 2020 PMEA State Conference. I am deeply appreciative of Dennis and the friendship, encouragement and perspective he shared with me over the years teaching in the same region. The opening flute, clarinet and alto saxophone part can be performed by the entire section or as a solo at the discretion of the director. The washboard and spoon part can be doubled as players allow. I would suggest bringing these students to the front of the stage to get the sound of both instruments to the audience. As the piece develops and Wayfaring Stranger is layered with 900 Miles, please remind your ensemble to play so they can hear each other, not so they are individually heard. I thank you and your ensemble in advance as you begin this journey together in search of Lonely Travelers.
The life of railroad worker in the early days of expansion was lonely, and the need for music to bolster spirits was of great importance. The character singing 900 Miles is looking forward to being reunited with his family after being separated from them for considerable time. The Wayfaring Stranger is a prominent American folk and gospel song that reflects upon the journey through life. The character in that song contemplates better times with their family in the afterlife. Both of these songs speak to the idea of searching for something beyond the current situation in which that person finds themselves. The programmatic qualities of the work are essentially tied to the main folk song--900 Miles--and they evoke the idea of where the song found its origins. Beyond that, both songs connect each of us to the sense of belonging and family that are the human experience. While the music paints a picture of someone who is alone, that is not a feeling I want for any young student in our schools today. Band is one of the few places where students can discover that sense of belonging and find a surrogate family. While band is a family that might not always get along, they can reach a shared goal through diligent work, caring and encouragement. It was a pleasure completing Lonely Travelers for longtime friend, superb musician, excellent educator and dedicated leader in music education Dennis Emert. His students debuted the work at the 2020 PMEA State Conference. I am deeply appreciative of Dennis and the friendship, encouragement and perspective he shared with me over the years teaching in the same region. The opening flute, clarinet and alto saxophone part can be performed by the entire section or as a solo at the discretion of the director. The washboard and spoon part can be doubled as players allow. I would suggest bringing these students to the front of the stage to get the sound of both instruments to the audience. As the piece develops and Wayfaring Stranger is layered with 900 Miles, please remind your ensemble to play so they can hear each other, not so they are individually heard. I thank you and your ensemble in advance as you begin this journey together in search of Lonely Travelers.
The life of railroad worker in the early days of expansion was lonely, and the need for music to bolster spirits was of great importance. The character singing 900 Miles is looking forward to being reunited with his family after being separated from them for considerable time. The Wayfaring Stranger is a prominent American folk and gospel song that reflects upon the journey through life. The character in that song contemplates better times with their family in the afterlife. Both of these songs speak to the idea of searching for something beyond the current situation in which that person finds themselves. The programmatic qualities of the work are essentially tied to the main folk song—900 Miles—and they evoke the idea of where the song found its origins. Beyond that, both songs connect each of us to the sense of belonging and family that are the human experience.While the music paints a picture of someone who is alone, that is not a feeling I want for any young student in our schools today. Band is one of the few places where students can discover that sense of belonging and find a surrogate family. While band is a family that might not always get along, they can reach a shared goal through diligent work, caring and encouragement. It was a pleasure completing Lonely Travelers for longtime friend, superb musician, excellent educator and dedicated leader in music education Dennis Emert. His students debuted the work at the 2020 PMEA State Conference. I am deeply appreciative of Dennis and the friendship, encouragement and perspective he shared with me over the years teaching in the same region.The opening flute, clarinet and alto saxophone part can be performed by the entire section or as a solo at the discretion of the director. The washboard and spoon part can be doubled as players allow. I would suggest bringing these students to the front of the stage to get the sound of both instruments to the audience. As the piece develops and Wayfaring Stranger is layered with 900 Miles, please remind your ensemble to play so they can hear each other, not so they are individually heard. I thank you and your ensemble in advance as you begin this journey together in search of Lonely Travelers.

SKU: BT.EMBZ20004A

English-German-Hungari an.

Supplementary Volume 16 of the New Liszt Edition contains free arrangements and technical exercises. In the first section can be found early versions of three arrangements. The first consists of the first and intermediary versions of a transcription of Die Rose, a song Schubert composed to a poem by Schlegel. The arrangement of the second movement of Berlioz's Harold Symphony also draws on literary inspiration: Lord Byron's (1788-1824) narrative poem Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1812-18) was a literary experience Liszt shared with Berlioz. The fantasy on themes from Bellini's opera La sonnambula [The Sleepwalker] (here the first version of 1842, and the second version dating from the following decade are given) is important in music history because it was while he worked on this (and other operatic fantasies) that Liszt developed a new concept of the form, which took shape in more complex and more concentrated fantasies than before. Particularly interesting material can be found in the appendix. In addition to sketches and drafts for arrangements of Spanish themes, there are three sources published here for the first time, which shed light on technical aspects of Liszt's piano teaching. These are three sets of exercises: the first written by Liszt himself for Valérie Boissier in 1832; the second a copy in an unidentified hand from the same period or slightly later; and finally the third which was noted down in 1871 by Henri Maréchal in Rome based on the composer's dictation. This latest volume of the New Liszt Edition includes a detailed preface in German, English, and Hungarian containing new research findings, together with five manuscript facsimiles and critical notes. Simultaneously with the cloth-bound Complete Edition, a practical paperback version has been published, the contents of which are identical to those of the hardcover edition, minus the inclusion of critical notes.

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.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.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: 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: GI.G-10297

UPC: 785147029717. English, Spanish. Text Source: Revised Order of Mass 2010, Lectionary for Mass. Misal Romano, tercera edición

A versatile Mass setting for use throughout the liturgical year, Mass of the Sun of Justice / Misa Sol de Justicia is fully bilingual, singable entirely in English or in Spanish, or any pastoral combination of both languages. At its core, this setting is built on assembly-minded melodies. Much of the choral writing is two-part, albeit spelled out in four voices, whereby the basses frequently double the soprano melody, and the alto and tenor lines essentially share a single harmony in their respective ranges, splitting only at cadence points for a fuller effect. Optional descants and divisi further expand the voicing possibilities. The additional instrumentation is particularly spirited, further enhancing these sung texts for solemn occasions. “Sun of justice” is a term used to reference Christ with respect to his second coming, as found in the ancient “O” antiphons. This title appears in the Lectionary among the Alleluia options for the common of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and is, in fact, assigned to the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, celebrated within the Advent season. As such, the music is “Advent-like” in nature—joyful and filled with hope.  ~~~~~ Una Misa versátil para usar durante todo el año litúrgico, Mass of the Son of Justice / Misa Sol de Justicia es completamente bilingüe, se puede cantar completamente en inglés o en español, o en cualquier combinación pastoral de ambos idiomas. En esencia, este arreglo se basa en melodías para la asamblea. Gran parte de la escritura coral es de dos partes, aunque escrito para cuatro voces, por lo que los bajos con frecuencia duplican la melodía de soprano, y las líneas de alto y tenor comparten esencialmente una sola armonía en sus respectivos rangos, dividiéndose solo en los puntos de cadencia para una melodía más completa. Los discante y divisi opcionales amplían aún más las posibilidades de sonorización. La instrumentación adicional es particularmente animada, mejorando aún más estos textos cantados para ocasiones solemnes. Sol de justicia es un término que se usa para referirse a Cristo con respecto a su segunda venida, como se encuentra en las antífonas O antiguas. Este título aparece en el Leccionario entre las opciones de Aleluya para el común de la Santísima Virgen María y, de hecho, está asignado a la fiesta de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, celebrada dentro del tiempo de Adviento. Como tal, la música es en esencia de adviento—alegre y llena de esperanza. ~~~~~ Preview select songs from this mass setting in the video below:.

SKU: CF.SPS71

ISBN 9781491143544. UPC: 680160901043. Key: G minor.

Nordanvind is a tour de force symphonic rhapsody that is built on three Scandinavian folk songs. Composer Carl Strommen has composed these Viking-influenced melodies into a concert setting that brings out all of the history of the Scandinavian people. The piece is at times bold and aggressive, at other times beautiful. Carl employs all of the instrumental colors of the concert band to create a new work for more advanced ensembles.
Modern Scandinavians are descendants of the Vikings, an adventuresome people who were known for their love of the sea, their naval prowess, and as fierce fighters . The Scandinavian Vikings were warriors from Denmark, Norway, and Sweden who traded, raided and settled in various parts of Europe, Russia, the North Atlantic islands, and the northeastern coast of North America .Starting around 1850, over one million Swedes left their homeland for the United States in search of religious freedom and open farm land . Augustana College was founded in 1860 by graduates of Swedish universities and is located on the Mississippi River in Rock Island, Illinois . Home of the “Vikings,” Augustana College is the oldest Swedish- American institution of higher learning in the United States . This powerful and lively piece takes inspiration from Swedish history and from Swedish folk songs and hymns .Havsdrake (Dragon of the Sea)The Nordanvind or “North Wind” blows a cold wind during a journey of a group of courageous Viking rowers . The “Dragon-ship” or long ships designed for raiding and war was a sophisticated, fast ship able to navigate in very shallow water . To musically portray these magnificent seafaring vessels, the director is encouraged to use an Ocean Drum (or a rain stick) during the introduction . Wind players may consider blowing air through their instruments to suggest the North wind . Adding men’s voices to accompany the haunting low brass and percussive “rower” sounds can be helpful in creating the dark and ominous portrayal of Viking adventurers .Slangpolska efter Byss - KalleIn Sweden, a “polska” is a partner dance where the dancers spin each other (släng in Swedish “to sling or toss”) . Slangpolska efter Byss - Kalle is attributed to Byss-Kalle, who was a notable Swedish folk musician, specifically a nyckelharpa player . Slangpolska efter Byss - Kalle is a traditional “polska” dance song most often played on the Nyckelharpa or keyed fiddle and is commonly heard in pubs and at festive events throughout Sweden . Approximately 10,000 nyckelharpa players live in Sweden today, and the Swedish and the American Nyckelharpa Associations are dedicated to this Swedish National instrument . The director is encouraged to share video and audio examples of the nyckelharpa playing the original Slangpolska efter Byss - Kalle .Tryggare Kan Ingen Vara (Children of the Heavenly Father)Tryggare Kan Ingen Vara Is a traditional Swedish melody, possibly of German roots, and was believed to be arranged as a hymn by the Swedish hymn writer, Karolina Wilhelmina Sandell-Berg (1832–1903) . As a daughter of a Swedish Lutheran minister, she began writing poems as a teenager and is said to have written over 1,700 different texts . There are two different accounts as to the inspiration for this hymn . The first story is that Lina (as she was called) wrote the hymn to honor her father and to say thank you to him for raising her and protecting her . A second belief is of her witnessing the tragic death of her father . She and her father were on a boat, when a wave threw her father overboard . It was said that the profound effect of watching her father drown is what caused Lina to write the text to this hymn . Although this is a treasured song to people of Swedish descent everywhere, it speaks to all people about a father tending and nourishing his children, and protecting them from evil .SPS71FThe Augustana College Concert BandFounded in 1874, the Augustana Band program is one of the oldest continuously active collegiate band programs in the country . The Concert Band is one of two bands on campus and was formed more than thirty years ago . The Concert Band attracts students of every skill level and from a wide variety of majors . Students in the ensemble play a large part in choosing their music for performance, which include works from the standard repertoire, orchestral transcriptions, and the latest compositions from leading composers .Rick Jaeschke began his musical career as a clarinet player in the 1st US Army Band . He received a Bachelor of Music degree from Susquehanna University, a Masters of Music from James Madison University, and a doctorate from Columbia University in New York . He was also fortunate to study conducting with Donald Hunsburger and with Frederick Fennell .Dr . Jaeschke taught band and choir at Great Mills High School in Southern Maryland, and for fifteen years, he was the district Music Supervisor in Armonk, New York, where he taught high school concert and jazz bands, beginning band, and music technology . During that time, the music program flourished, and the high school band consistently received Gold Medals in the New York State Festivals, as well as in national, and international festivals . As a clarinet and saxophone player, Dr . Jaeschke performed in the New York metropolitan area with the Rockland Symphony Orchestra, the Putnam Symphony Orchestra, Fine Arts Symphony Orchestra, and served as the concert master for the Hudson Valley Wind Symphony .For several years, Dr . Jaeschke served as the Fine Arts Coordinator for the District 204 schools in Naperville, IL, a district selected as One of the Best 100 Schools in America for Music . Currently, Dr . Jaeschke is an Associate Professor at Augustana College where he teaches music and music education courses, and directs the Concert Band . He has served on various educational boards, is a National edTPA scorer, and has presented at state, national and international music conferences . He lives with his family in Bettendorf Iowa, and enjoys any opportunity to explore the open water in his sea kayak .

SKU: GI.G-10297FS

UPC: 785147029793.

A versatile Mass setting for use throughout the liturgical year, Mass of the Sun of Justice / Misa Sol de Justicia is fully bilingual, singable entirely in English or in Spanish, or any pastoral combination of both languages.   At its core, this setting is built on assembly-minded melodies. Much of the choral writing is two-part, albeit spelled out in four voices, whereby the basses frequently double the soprano melody, and the alto and tenor lines essentially share a single harmony in their respective ranges, splitting only at cadence points for a fuller effect. Optional descants and divisi further expand the voicing possibilities. The additional instrumentation is particularly spirited, further enhancing these sung texts for solemn occasions.   “Sun of justice” is a term used to reference Christ with respect to his second coming, as found in the ancient “O” antiphons. This title appears in the Lectionary among the Alleluia options for the common of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and is, in fact, assigned to the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, celebrated within the Advent season. As such, the music is “Advent-like” in nature—joyful and filled with hope.      Una Misa versátil para usar durante todo el año litúrgico, Mass of the Son of Justice / Misa Sol de Justicia es completamente bilingüe, se puede cantar completamente en inglés o en español, o en cualquier combinación pastoral de ambos idiomas.   En esencia, este arreglo se basa en melodías para la asamblea. Gran parte de la escritura coral es de dos partes, aunque escrito para cuatro voces, por lo que los bajos con frecuencia duplican la melodía de soprano, y las líneas de alto y tenor comparten esencialmente una sola armonía en sus respectivos rangos, dividiéndose solo en los puntos de cadencia para una melodía más completa. Los discante y divisi opcionales amplían aún más las posibilidades de sonorización. La instrumentación adicional es particularmente animada, mejorando aún más estos textos cantados para ocasiones solemnes.   Sol de justicia es un término que se usa para referirse a Cristo con respecto a su segunda venida, como se encuentra en las antífonas O antiguas. Este título aparece en el Leccionario entre las opciones de Aleluya para el común de la Santísima Virgen María y, de hecho, está asignado a la fiesta de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, celebrada dentro del tiempo de Adviento. Como tal, la música es en esencia de adviento—alegre y llena de esperanza.

SKU: CF.WF230

ISBN 9781491153741. UPC: 680160911240.

Ever since he was honored 50 years ago as a top prize-winning graduate of New England Conservatory and a Fulbright scholar at the Paris Conservatoire, flutist Robert Stallman has drawn accolades around the world as a performer and recording artist who “dazzles because of his penetrating artistry” (Sunday Times/London). Also known internationally for superior flute editions, including numerous transcriptions that have greatly expanded the repertoire, Stallman now offers flutists an appealing collection of original melodic warm-ups. With The Flutist’s Handbook, he shares his fresh approach to staying in shape and maintaining his reputation for “consummate virtuosity” (Repertoire/France).
P refaceOne morning many years ago I opened my flute case and suddenly found myself questioning the wisdom of having scales and long tones come first in my practice session. Of course, these are essential to daily practice, but I wondered if there might be a better way to begin the day—with something more melodic and engaging, something to really inspire me.The Flutist’s Handbook emerged from a stream of musical ideas I began to jot down during practice sessions after that “aha” moment. As I worked with them, I noticed a more spontaneous interest in practicing. In fact I even looked forward to starting my day this way. As a result, my work on scales, arpeggios and long tones followed with more enjoyment and focused attention.In creating many of the détaché warm-ups found in Part I, I was drawn to the musical sequences of J. S. Bach, particularly those developed in his keyboard works. Bach had discovered the most satisfying musical patterns on which to build his music, so here was a treasure trove of invigorating melodic material. I also borrowed apt détaché passages from C.P.E. Bach, Schubert, Dvořák and others.Part II includes more musical quodlibets and echos in a collection of fifteen short melodies designed to open and center the tone, while encouraging full breath support. These melodies also concentrate on developing our sostenuto, or true legato playing—the foundation of a beautiful sonority and natural vocal expression. Except for final cadence notes, these warm-ups should be practiced without vibrato, to create an even and seamless instrument, bottom to top.All of these warm-ups are to be played forte and piano in every major key, proceeding chromatically by rising half-steps. Tempo indications are given in the headings, as are optional rhythmic and articulation variants. Suggested breath marks are in parentheses.The Handbook opens with détaché warm-ups for a good reason. It is vital to begin our practice with tonguing, as a clean attack is essential to producing a beautiful tone. Also, in working on tonguing (single, double, triple and tremolando) we stimulate and strengthen the jaw muscles that support the embouchure (which must remain supple and flexible). As we fine-tune these muscles, we gain tonal center and clarity, qualities that may elude us at the beginning of our practice. Of course, we also need to wake up the air stream and deepen our breath support. Once the tongue is alive and the tone is centered, we are ready to work further on our sonority with the melodic warm-ups in Part II.This book is meant for professionals, students and amateur flutists alike. I offer it to all as a companion that invites more pleasure and vitality into our daily practice. It is my firm belief that by aligning ourselves with our love of music and its energizing patterns each day—from the very first moment we pick up the instrument—we will bring more ease and focus into our lifelong task of staying in shape. This in turn will support the heightened inspiration we want to take into rehearsals and performances. Enjoy!—Robert StallmanMarblehead, MassachusettsApril 20, 2018.

SKU: PR.114422850

ISBN 9781491137550. UPC: 680160691005.

Amid his beloved catalog of music for low brass, NEWBURYPORT SONATA is Eric Ewazen’s first recital work for tuba. The composer’s preface tells us, “This work was written during the year of Covid quarantine, and it reflects the strong emotions of that time. The final movement is full of energy and a return to life! There is almost a march-like feel to the music, with a lively and even playful rhythm as the tuba lines are bold, strong, and ultimately energetic and exciting.” The work is also available as NEWBURYPORT QUINTET for Tuba and String Quartet.
The Newburyport Sonata began life as the NEWBURYPORT QUINTET for Tuba and Strings, commissioned by David Yang, director of the Newburyport Chamber Music Festival in Massachusetts. The quintet version was premiered by members of the festival, featuring tuba soloist Scott Devereaux of the U.S. Army Field Band.I’ve long been a fan of low brass instruments and had the pleasure of attending the very first Tuba/Euphonium Convention at Indiana University, which was a real celebration of low brass! As a former cellist (I’ve long been a fan of instruments with a tenor/bass range, the world of euphoniums and tubas) I wanted to write a piece showcasing both the wonderful virtuosity the instrument is capable of, and also its expressive lyricism, which shaped the NEWBURYPORT QUINTET. This adaptation for tuba and piano consequently has a wide variety of musical gestures and moods, exploring the color of the instruments.The first movement is in compound rhythm, with a lilting, energetic 6/8 feel supporting a cantabile line in the Tuba. In a traditional form, there are contrasting themes, sometimes playful and sometimes heroic, which share a lively, rolling rhythm. The second movement is a heartfelt appassionata, with the Tuba sometimes singing in a soulful minor key, and sometimes expressing powerful emotions.This work was written during the year of Covid quarantine, and it reflects the strong emotions of that time. The final movement is full of energy and a return to life! There is almost a march-like feel to the music, with a lively and even playful rhythm as the tuba lines are bold, strong, and ultimately energetic and exciting.In writing this piece, I collaborated greatly with Scott, who played through passages I wrote and gave me technical suggestions on how to flatter the gorgeous sound of the Tuba, allowing it to really sing!The quintet version is also available from the publisher, www.presser.com/114-42284 .

SKU: DZ.DZ-4308

ISBN 9782898522253.

Foll owing a recent experience on the jury of a guitar competition, I noted with great pleasure that Giorgio Mirto, with whom I had shared the role of juror, wanted to celebrate the experience of the competition - during from which we discovered that we had had a great affinity of thought - with something which could endure over time and not evaporate as often happens in short and occasional meetings between musicians. He did it as a true composer, which he is, and dedicated to me a very beautifully crafted Suite to which I allowed myself to collaborate at least formally, by suggesting titles for the four movements. This is how Suite n.1 was born, a piece that does not strictly respect the formal rules of the Baroque era, but reinterprets and reuses them in a new key. The work's obvious late Baroque inspiration led me to find titles that invited the performer to delve deeper into the work's aesthetic inspiration. So I suggested to Giorgio that he title the four movements with something that linked their content to four greats of the 18th century. German masters. The prelude has thus become from Eisenach because of its sometimes improvised Bach-like atmosphere, the second movement, vaguely toccata, speaks an organ language in the manner of Buxtehude (who lived in Lübeck), the slow movement has a Handelian quality - and Handel was born in Halle - and the last movement, far from being a true Chaconne, undoubtedly has the latter's taste for variation and ostinato, typical traits of Telemann who lived in Magdeburg. The cities that appear in the titles are therefore indelible to the authors cited. Furthermore, one should not think that the style of the work is in any way German, given that Giorgio Mirto expresses himself in a very joyful language that synthesizes modality with minimalism, all seasoned with a a nod to Pink's progressive rock Floyd. or a Mike Oldfield... The result of this mixture of ideas, inspirations and styles is a work that personally I never tire of reading and rereading, for the freshness that emanates from it and for the climate expressive which rises, nourishing itself with full efficiency. We ultimately cannot ignore that the note B, the one which marks in a minor way some of the most expressive works of the guitar repertoire, from the study of Sor which made generations of students fall in love with the guitar, until to that of Frank Martin's Four Pieces via La Catedral di Barrios, is the modal fulcrum of the entire Suite: it is true that the Prelude begins with a clear chord in E minor and lingers on an open ending in A minor , but it almost seems that the initial E serves as a launching pad for a continuation of the work in which the dominant, that is to say the B, is the true musical North, the pole star which guides us in the other three movements until the end of the Chaconne de Magdebourg. I wish Giorgio and our Suite great longevity and a favorable destiny in the complex and complex world of contemporary guitar composition. And I thank him again, flattered by his very kind dedication.

FRANCE SCO BIRAGHI

Au lendemain d'une récente expérience au sein du jury d'un concours de guitare, j'ai constaté avec grand plaisir que Giorgio Mirto, avec qui j'avais partagé le rôle de juré, souhaitait célébrer l'expérience du concours - au cours de laquelle nous avons découvert que nous avions eu un grand affinité de pensée - avec quelque chose qui pourrait perdurer dans le temps et ne pas s'évaporer comme cela arrive souvent lors de rencontres courtes et occasionnelles entre musiciens. Il l'a fait en véritable compositeur, ce qu'il est, et m'a dédié une Suite d'une très belle facture à laquelle je me suis permis de collaborer au moins formellement, en suggérant des titres pour les quatre mouvements. C'est ainsi qu'est née la Suite n.1, une pièce qui ne respecte pas strictement les règles formelles de l'époque baroque, mais les réinterprèt e et les réutilise dans une nouvelle tonalité. L'inspiration évidente du baroque tardif de l'œuvre m'a amené à trouver des titres qui invitaient l'interprète à approfondir l'inspiration esthétique de l'œuvre. J'ai donc suggéré à Giorgio de titrer les quatre mouvements avec quelque chose qui reliait leur contenu à quatre grands du XVIIIe siècle. Maîtres allemands. Le prélude est ainsi devenu d'Eisenach en raison de son atmosphère parfois improvisée à la Bach, le deuxième mouvement, vaguement toccata, parle un langage d'orgue à la manière de Buxtehude (qui vivait à Lübeck), le mouvement lent a un Qualité haendélienne - et Haendel est né à Halle - et le dernier mouvement, loin d'être une véritable Chaconne, a sans doute le goût de cette dernière pour la variation et l'ostinato, traits typiques de Telemann qui vivait à Magdebourg. Les villes qui apparaissent dans les titres sont donc indélébiles aux auteurs cités. De plus, il ne faut pas penser que le style de l'œuvre soit en aucune façon allemand, étant donné que Giorgio Mirto s'exprime dans un langage très joyeux qui synthétise la modalité avec le minimalisme, le tout assaisonné d'un clin d'œil au rock progressif Floyd de Pink. ou un Mike Oldfield... Le résultat de ce mélange d'idées, d'inspirations et de styles est un ouvrage que personnellement je ne me lasse pas de lire et de relire, pour la fraîcheur qui s'en dégage et pour le climat expressif qui monte, se nourrissant de plein efficacité. On ne peut finalement pas ignorer que la note B, celle qui marque de manière mineure certaines des œuvres les plus expressives du répertoire de guitare, depuis l'étude de Sor qui a fait tomber amoureux de la guitare des générations d'étudiants, jusqu'à celle de Frank Martin Quatre Pièces via La Catedral di Barrios, est le point d'appui modal de toute la Suite : il est vrai que le Prélude commence par un accord clair en mi mineur et s'attarde sur une fin ouverte en la mineur, mais il semble presque que le mi initial sert de une rampe de lancement pour une suite de l'œuvre dans laquelle la dominante, c'est-à-dire le B, est le véritable Nord musical, l'étoile polaire qui nous guide dans les trois autres mouvements jusqu'à la fin de la Chaconne de Magdebourg. Je souhaite à Giorgio et à « notre » Suite une grande longévité et un destin favorable dans le monde complexe et complexe de la composition contemporaine pour guitare. Et je le remercie encore, flatté de son très aimable dévouement.

FRANCESCO BIRAGHI.

SKU: GI.G-10049