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| Transcriptions of Lieder Piano seul Carl Fischer
Chamber Music Piano SKU: CF.PL1056 Composed by Clara Wieck-Schumann, Fran...(+)
Chamber Music Piano
SKU: CF.PL1056
Composed by Clara
Wieck-Schumann, Franz
Schubert, and Robert
Schumann. Edited by
Nicholas Hopkins.
Collection. With Standard
notation. 128 pages. Carl
Fischer Music #PL1056.
Published by Carl Fischer
Music (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... $32.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 1 to 2 weeks | | |
| Gustave Vogt's Musical Album of Autographs Cor anglais, Piano Carl Fischer
Chamber Music English Horn, Oboe SKU: CF.WF229 15 Pieces for Oboe and ...(+)
Chamber Music English
Horn, Oboe SKU:
CF.WF229 15 Pieces
for Oboe and English
Horn. Composed by
Gustave Vogt. Edited by
Kristin Jean Leitterman.
Collection - Performance.
32+8 pages. Carl Fischer
Music #WF229. Published
by Carl Fischer Music
(CF.WF229). ISBN
9781491153789. UPC:
680160911288. Intro
duction Gustave Vogt's
Musical Paris Gustave
Vogt (1781-1870) was born
into the Age of
Enlightenment, at the
apex of the
Enlightenment's outreach.
During his lifetime he
would observe its effect
on the world. Over the
course of his life he
lived through many
changes in musical style.
When he was born,
composers such as Mozart
and Haydn were still
writing masterworks
revered today, and
eighty-nine years later,
as he departed the world,
the new realm of
Romanticism was beginning
to emerge with Mahler,
Richard Strauss and
Debussy, who were soon to
make their respective
marks on the musical
world. Vogt himself left
a huge mark on the
musical world, with
critics referring to him
as the grandfather of the
modern oboe and the
premier oboist of Europe.
Through his eighty-nine
years, Vogt would live
through what was perhaps
the most turbulent period
of French history. He
witnessed the French
Revolution of 1789,
followed by the many
newly established
governments, only to die
just months before the
establishment of the
Third Republic in 1870,
which would be the
longest lasting
government since the
beginning of the
revolution. He also
witnessed the
transformation of the
French musical world from
one in which opera
reigned supreme, to one
in which virtuosi,
chamber music, and
symphonic music ruled.
Additionally, he
experienced the
development of the oboe
right before his eyes.
When he began playing in
the late eighteenth
century, the standard
oboe had two keys (E and
Eb) and at the time of
his death in 1870, the
System Six Triebert oboe
(the instrument adopted
by Conservatoire
professor, Georges
Gillet, in 1882) was only
five years from being
developed. Vogt was born
March 18, 1781 in the
ancient town of
Strasbourg, part of the
Alsace region along the
German border. At the
time of his birth,
Strasbourg had been
annexed by Louis XIV, and
while heavily influenced
by Germanic culture, had
been loosely governed by
the French for a hundred
years. Although it is
unclear when Vogt began
studying the oboe and
when his family made its
move to the French
capital, the Vogts may
have fled Strasbourg in
1792 after much of the
city was destroyed during
the French Revolution. He
was without question
living in Paris by 1798,
as he enrolled on June 8
at the newly established
Conservatoire national de
Musique to study oboe
with the school's first
oboe professor,
Alexandre-Antoine
Sallantin (1775-1830).
Vogt's relationship with
the Conservatoire would
span over half a century,
moving seamlessly from
the role of student to
professor. In 1799, just
a year after enrolling,
he was awarded the
premier prix, becoming
the fourth oboist to
achieve this award. By
1802 he had been
appointed repetiteur,
which involved teaching
the younger students and
filling in for Sallantin
in exchange for a free
education. He maintained
this rank until 1809,
when he was promoted to
professor adjoint and
finally to professor
titulaire in 1816 when
Sallantin retired. This
was a position he held
for thirty-seven years,
retiring in 1853, making
him the longest serving
oboe professor in the
school's history. During
his tenure, he became the
most influential oboist
in France, teaching
eighty-nine students,
plus sixteen he taught
while he was professor
adjoint and professor
titulaire. Many of these
students went on to be
famous in their own
right, such as Henri Brod
(1799-1839), Apollon
Marie-Rose Barret
(1804-1879), Charles
Triebert (1810-1867),
Stanislas Verroust
(1814-1863), and Charles
Colin (1832-1881). His
influence stretches from
French to American oboe
playing in a direct line
from Charles Colin to
Georges Gillet
(1854-1920), and then to
Marcel Tabuteau
(1887-1966), the oboist
Americans lovingly
describe as the father of
American oboe playing.
Opera was an important
part of Vogt's life. His
first performing position
was with the
Theatre-Montansier while
he was still studying at
the Conservatoire.
Shortly after, he moved
to the Ambigu-Comique
and, in 1801 was
appointed as first oboist
with the Theatre-Italien
in Paris. He had been in
this position for only a
year, when he began
playing first oboe at the
Opera-Comique. He
remained there until
1814, when he succeeded
his teacher,
Alexandre-Antoine
Sallantin, as soloist
with the Paris Opera, the
top orchestra in Paris at
the time. He played with
the Paris Opera until
1834, all the while
bringing in his current
and past students to fill
out the section. In this
position, he began to
make a name for himself;
so much so that specific
performances were
immortalized in memoirs
and letters. One comes
from a young Hector
Berlioz (1803-1865) after
having just arrived in
Paris in 1822 and
attended the Paris
Opera's performance of
Mehul's Stratonice and
Persuis' ballet Nina. It
was in response to the
song Quand le bien-amie
reviendra that Berlioz
wrote: I find it
difficult to believe that
that song as sung by her
could ever have made as
true and touching an
effect as the combination
of Vogt's instrument...
Shortly after this,
Berlioz gave up studying
medicine and focused on
music. Vogt frequently
made solo and chamber
appearances throughout
Europe. His busiest
period of solo work was
during the 1820s. In 1825
and 1828 he went to
London to perform as a
soloist with the London
Philharmonic Society.
Vogt also traveled to
Northern France in 1826
for concerts, and then in
1830 traveled to Munich
and Stuttgart, visiting
his hometown of
Strasbourg on the way.
While on tour, Vogt
performed Luigi
Cherubini's (1760-1842)
Ave Maria, with soprano
Anna (Nanette) Schechner
(1806-1860), and a
Concertino, presumably
written by himself. As a
virtuoso performer in
pursuit of repertoire to
play, Vogt found himself
writing much of his own
music. His catalog
includes chamber music,
variation sets, vocal
music, concerted works,
religious music, wind
band arrangements, and
pedagogical material. He
most frequently performed
his variation sets, which
were largely based on
themes from popular
operas he had, presumably
played while he was at
the Opera. He made his
final tour in 1839,
traveling to Tours and
Bordeaux. During this
tour he appeared with the
singer Caroline Naldi,
Countess de Sparre, and
the violinist Joseph
Artot (1815-1845). This
ended his active career
as a soloist. His
performance was described
in the Revue et gazette
musicale de Paris as
having lost none of his
superiority over the
oboe.... It's always the
same grace, the same
sweetness. We made a trip
to Switzerland, just by
closing your eyes and
listening to Vogt's oboe.
Vogt was also active
performing in Paris as a
chamber and orchestral
musician. He was one of
the founding members of
the Societe des Concerts
du Conservatoire, a group
established in 1828 by
violinist and conductor
Francois-Antoine Habeneck
(1781-1849). The group
featured faculty and
students performing
alongside each other and
works such as Beethoven
symphonies, which had
never been heard in
France. He also premiered
the groundbreaking
woodwind quintets of
Antonin Reicha
(1770-1836). After his
retirement from the Opera
in 1834 and from the
Societe des Concerts du
Conservatoire in 1842,
Vogt began to slow down.
His final known
performance was of
Cherubini's Ave Maria on
English horn with tenor
Alexis Dupont (1796-1874)
in 1843. He then began to
reflect on his life and
the people he had known.
When he reached his 60s,
he began gathering
entries for his Musical
Album of Autographs.
Autograph Albums Vogt's
Musical Album of
Autographs is part of a
larger practice of
keeping autograph albums,
also commonly known as
Stammbuch or Album
Amicorum (meaning book of
friendship or friendship
book), which date back to
the time of the
Reformation and the
University of Wittenberg.
It was during the
mid-sixteenth century
that students at the
University of Wittenberg
began passing around
bibles for their fellow
students and professors
to sign, leaving messages
to remember them by as
they moved on to the next
part of their lives. The
things people wrote were
mottos, quotes, and even
drawings of their family
coat of arms or some
other scene that meant
something to the owner.
These albums became the
way these young students
remembered their school
family once they had
moved on to another
school or town. It was
also common for the
entrants to comment on
other entries and for the
owner to amend entries
when they learned of
important life details
such as marriage or
death. As the practice
continued, bibles were
set aside for emblem
books, which was a
popular book genre that
featured allegorical
illustrations (emblems)
in a tripartite form:
image, motto, epigram.
The first emblem book
used for autographs was
published in 1531 by
Andrea Alciato
(1492-1550), a collection
of 212 Latin emblem
poems. In 1558, the first
book conceived for the
purpose of the album
amicorum was published by
Lyon de Tournes
(1504-1564) called the
Thesaurus Amicorum. These
books continued to
evolve, and spread to
wider circles away from
universities. Albums
could be found being kept
by noblemen, physicians,
lawyers, teachers,
painters, musicians, and
artisans. The albums
eventually became more
specialized, leading to
Musical Autograph Albums
(or Notestammbucher).
Before this
specialization, musicians
contributed in one form
or another, but our
knowledge of them in
these albums is mostly
limited to individual
people or events. Some
would simply sign their
name while others would
insert a fragment of
music, usually a canon
(titled fuga) with text
in Latin. Canons were
popular because they
displayed the
craftsmanship of the
composer in a limited
space. Composers
well-known today,
including J. S. Bach,
Telemann, Mozart,
Beethoven, Dowland, and
Brahms, all participated
in the practice, with
Beethoven being the first
to indicate an interest
in creating an album only
of music. This interest
came around 1815. In an
1845 letter from Johann
Friedrich Naue to
Heinrich Carl
Breidenstein, Naue
recalled an 1813 visit
with Beethoven, who
presented a book
suggesting Naue to
collect entries from
celebrated musicians as
he traveled. Shortly
after we find Louis Spohr
speaking about leaving on
his grand tour through
Europe in 1815 and of his
desire to carry an album
with entries from the
many artists he would
come across. He wrote in
his autobiography that
his most valuable
contribution came from
Beethoven in 1815.
Spohr's Notenstammbuch,
comprised only of musical
entries, is
groundbreaking because it
was coupled with a
concert tour, allowing
him to reach beyond the
Germanic world, where the
creation of these books
had been nearly
exclusive. Spohr brought
the practice of
Notenstammbucher to
France, and in turn
indirectly inspired Vogt
to create a book of his
own some fifteen years
later. Vogt's Musical
Album of Autographs
Vogt's Musical Album of
Autographs acts as a form
of a memoir, displaying
mementos of musicians who
held special meaning in
his life as well as
showing those with whom
he was enamored from the
younger generation. The
anonymous Pie Jesu
submitted to Vogt in 1831
marks the beginning of an
album that would span
nearly three decades by
the time the final entry,
an excerpt from Charles
Gounod's (1818-1893)
Faust, which premiered in
1859, was submitted.
Within this album we find
sixty-two entries from
musicians whom he must
have known very well
because they were
colleagues at the
Conservatoire, or
composers of opera whose
works he was performing
with the Paris Opera.
Other entries came from
performers with whom he
had performed and some
who were simply passing
through Paris, such as
Joseph Joachim
(1831-1907). Of the
sixty-three total
entries, some are
original, unpublished
works, while others came
from well-known existing
works. Nineteen of these
works are for solo piano,
sixteen utilize the oboe
or English horn, thirteen
feature the voice (in
many different
combinations, including
vocal solos with piano,
and small choral settings
up to one with double
choir), two feature
violin as a solo
instrument, and one even
features the now obscure
ophicleide. The
connections among the
sixty-two contributors to
Vogt's album are
virtually never-ending.
All were acquainted with
Vogt in some capacity,
from long-time
friendships to
relationships that were
created when Vogt
requested their entry.
Thus, while Vogt is the
person who is central to
each of these musicians,
the web can be greatly
expanded. In general, the
connections are centered
around the Conservatoire,
teacher lineages, the
Opera, and performing
circles. The
relationships between all
the contributors in the
album parallel the
current musical world, as
many of these kinds of
relationships still
exist, and permit us to
fantasize who might be
found in an album created
today by a musician of
the same standing. Also
important, is what sort
of entries the
contributors chose to
pen. The sixty-three
entries are varied, but
can be divided into
published and unpublished
works. Within the
published works, we find
opera excerpts, symphony
excerpts, mass excerpts,
and canons, while the
unpublished works include
music for solo piano,
oboe or English horn,
string instruments
(violin and cello), and
voice (voice with piano
and choral). The music
for oboe and English horn
works largely belong in
the unpublished works of
the album. These entries
were most likely written
to honor Vogt. Seven are
for oboe and piano and
were contributed by
Joseph Joachim, Pauline
Garcia Viardot
(1821-1910), Joseph
Artot, Anton Bohrer
(1783-1852), Georges
Onslow (1784-1853),
Desire Beaulieu
(1791-1863), and Narcisse
Girard (1797-1860). The
common thread between
these entries is the
simplicity of the melody
and structure. Many are
repetitive, especially
Beaulieu's entry, which
features a two-note
ostinato throughout the
work, which he even
included in his
signature. Two composers
contributed pieces for
English horn and piano,
and like the previous
oboe entries, are simple
and repetitive. These
were written by Michele
Carafa (1787-1872) and
Louis Clapisson
(1808-1866). There are
two other entries that
were unpublished works
and are chamber music.
One is an oboe trio by
Jacques Halevy
(1799-1862) and the other
is for oboe and strings
(string trio) by J. B.
Cramer (1771-1858). There
are five published works
in the album for oboe and
English horn. There are
three from operas and the
other two from symphonic
works. Ambroise Thomas
(1811-1896) contributed
an excerpt from the
Entr'acte of his opera La
Guerillero, and was
likely chosen because the
oboe was featured at this
moment. Hippolyte Chelard
(1789-1861) also chose to
honor Vogt by writing for
English horn. His entry,
for English horn and
piano, is taken from his
biggest success, Macbeth.
The English horn part was
actually taken from Lady
Macbeth's solo in the
sleepwalking scene.
Vogt's own entry also
falls into this category,
as he entered an excerpt
from Donizetti's Maria di
Rohan. The excerpt he
chose is a duet between
soprano and English horn.
There are two entries
featuring oboe that are
excerpted from symphonic
repertoire. One is a
familiar oboe melody from
Beethoven's Pastoral
Symphony entered by his
first biographer, Anton
Schindler (1796-1864).
The other is an excerpt
from Berlioz's choral
symphony, Romeo et
Juliette. He entered an
oboe solo from the Grand
Fete section of the
piece. Pedagogical
benefit All of these
works are lovely, and fit
within the album
wonderfully, but these
works also are great oboe
and English horn music
for young students. The
common thread between
these entries is the
simplicity of the melody
and structure. Many are
repetitive, especially
Beaulieu's entry, which
features a two-note
ostinato throughout the
work in the piano. This
repetitive structure is
beneficial for young
students for searching
for a short solo to
present at a studio
recital, or simply to
learn. They also work
many technical issues a
young player may
encounter, such as
mastering the rolling
finger to uncover and
recover the half hole.
This is true of Bealieu's
Pensee as well as
Onslow's Andantino.
Berlioz's entry from
Romeo et Juliette
features very long
phrases, which helps with
endurance and helps keep
the air spinning through
the oboe. Some of the
pieces also use various
levels of ornamentation,
from trills to grace
notes, and short
cadenzas. This allows the
student to learn
appropriate ways to
phrase with these added
notes. The chamber music
is a valuable way to
start younger students
with chamber music,
especially the short
quartet by Cramer for
oboe and string trio. All
of these pieces will not
tax the student to learn
a work that is more
advanced, as well as give
them a full piece that
they can work on from
beginning to end in a
couple weeks, instead of
months. Editorial Policy
The works found in this
edition are based on the
manuscript housed at the
Morgan Library in New
York City (call number
Cary 348, V886. A3). When
possible, published
scores were consulted and
compared to clarify pitch
and text. The general
difficulties in creating
an edition of these works
stem from entries that
appear to be hastily
written, and thus omit
complete articulations
and dynamic indications
for all passages and
parts. The manuscript has
been modernized into a
performance edition. The
score order from the
manuscript has been
retained. If an entry
also exists in a
published work, and this
was not indicated on the
manuscript, appropriate
titles and subtitles have
been added tacitly. For
entries that were
untitled, the beginning
tempo marking or
expressive directive has
been added as its title
tacitly. Part names have
been changed from the
original language to
English. If no part name
was present, it was added
tacitly. All scores are
transposing where
applicable. Measure
numbers have been added
at the beginning of every
system. Written
directives have been
retained in the original
language and are placed
relative to where they
appear in the manuscript.
Tempo markings from the
manuscript have been
retained, even if they
were abbreviated, i.e.,
Andte. The barlines,
braces, brackets, and
clefs are modernized. The
beaming and stem
direction has been
modernized. Key
signatures have been
modernized as some of the
flats/sharps do not
appear on the correct
lines or spaces. Time
signatures have been
modernized. In a few
cases, when a time
signature was missing in
the manuscript, it has
been added tacitly.
Triplet and rhythmic
groupings have been
modernized. Slurs, ties,
and articulations
(staccato and accent)
have been modernized.
Slurs, ties, and
articulations have been
added to parallel
passages tacitly.
Courtesy accidentals
found in the manuscript
have been removed, unless
it appeared to be helpful
to the performer. Dynamic
indications from the
manuscript have been
retained, except where
noted. --Kristin
Leitterman. Introducti
onGustave Vogt’s
Musical ParisGustave Vogt
(1781–1870) was
born into the “Age
of Enlightenment,â€
at the apex of the
Enlightenment’s
outreach. During his
lifetime he would observe
its effect on the world.
Over the course of his
life he lived through
many changes in musical
style. When he was born,
composers such as Mozart
and Haydn were still
writing masterworks
revered today, and
eighty-nine years later,
as he departed the world,
the new realm of
Romanticism was beginning
to emerge with Mahler,
Richard Strauss and
Debussy, who were soon to
make their respective
marks on the musical
world. Vogt himself left
a huge mark on the
musical world, with
critics referring to him
as the “grandfather
of the modern oboeâ€
and the “premier
oboist of
Europe.â€Through his
eighty-nine years, Vogt
would live through what
was perhaps the most
turbulent period of
French history. He
witnessed the French
Revolution of 1789,
followed by the many
newly established
governments, only to die
just months before the
establishment of the
Third Republic in 1870,
which would be the
longest lasting
government since the
beginning of the
revolution. He also
witnessed the
transformation of the
French musical world from
one in which opera
reigned supreme, to one
in which virtuosi,
chamber music, and
symphonic music ruled.
Additionally, he
experienced the
development of the oboe
right before his eyes.
When he began playing in
the late eighteenth
century, the standard
oboe had two keys (E and
Eb) and at the time of
his death in 1870, the
“System Sixâ€
Triébert oboe (the
instrument adopted by
Conservatoire professor,
Georges Gillet, in 1882)
was only five years from
being developed.Vogt was
born March 18, 1781 in
the ancient town of
Strasbourg, part of the
Alsace region along the
German border. At the
time of his birth,
Strasbourg had been
annexed by Louis XIV, and
while heavily influenced
by Germanic culture, had
been loosely governed by
the French for a hundred
years. Although it is
unclear when Vogt began
studying the oboe and
when his family made its
move to the French
capital, the Vogts may
have fled Strasbourg in
1792 after much of the
city was destroyed during
the French Revolution. He
was without question
living in Paris by 1798,
as he enrolled on June 8
at the newly established
Conservatoire national de
Musique to study oboe
with the school’s
first oboe professor,
Alexandre-Antoine
Sallantin
(1775–1830).Vogtâ
€™s relationship with
the Conservatoire would
span over half a century,
moving seamlessly from
the role of student to
professor. In 1799, just
a year after enrolling,
he was awarded the
premier prix, becoming
the fourth oboist to
achieve this award. By
1802 he had been
appointed
répétiteur, which
involved teaching the
younger students and
filling in for Sallantin
in exchange for a free
education. He maintained
this rank until 1809,
when he was promoted to
professor adjoint and
finally to professor
titulaire in 1816 when
Sallantin retired. This
was a position he held
for thirty-seven years,
retiring in 1853, making
him the longest serving
oboe professor in the
school’s history.
During his tenure, he
became the most
influential oboist in
France, teaching
eighty-nine students,
plus sixteen he taught
while he was professor
adjoint and professor
titulaire. Many of these
students went on to be
famous in their own
right, such as Henri Brod
(1799–1839),
Apollon Marie-Rose Barret
(1804–1879),
Charles Triebert
(1810–1867),
Stanislas Verroust
(1814–1863), and
Charles Colin
(1832–1881). His
influence stretches from
French to American oboe
playing in a direct line
from Charles Colin to
Georges Gillet
(1854–1920), and
then to Marcel Tabuteau
(1887–1966), the
oboist Americans lovingly
describe as the
“father of American
oboe playing.â€Opera
was an important part of
Vogt’s life. His
first performing position
was with the
Théâtre-Montansier
while he was still
studying at the
Conservatoire. Shortly
after, he moved to the
Ambigu-Comique and, in
1801 was appointed as
first oboist with the
Théâtre-Italien in
Paris. He had been in
this position for only a
year, when he began
playing first oboe at the
Opéra-Comique. He
remained there until
1814, when he succeeded
his teacher,
Alexandre-Antoine
Sallantin, as soloist
with the Paris Opéra,
the top orchestra in
Paris at the time. He
played with the Paris
Opéra until 1834, all
the while bringing in his
current and past students
to fill out the section.
In this position, he
began to make a name for
himself; so much so that
specific performances
were immortalized in
memoirs and letters. One
comes from a young Hector
Berlioz
(1803–1865) after
having just arrived in
Paris in 1822 and
attended the Paris
Opéra’s
performance of
Mehul’s Stratonice
and Persuis’
ballet Nina. It was in
response to the song
Quand le bien-amié
reviendra that Berlioz
wrote: “I find it
difficult to believe that
that song as sung by her
could ever have made as
true and touching an
effect as the combination
of Vogt’s
instrument…â€
Shortly after this,
Berlioz gave up studying
medicine and focused on
music.Vogt frequently
made solo and chamber
appearances throughout
Europe. His busiest
period of solo work was
during the 1820s. In 1825
and 1828 he went to
London to perform as a
soloist with the London
Philharmonic Society.
Vogt also traveled to
Northern France in 1826
for concerts, and then in
1830 traveled to Munich
and Stuttgart, visiting
his hometown of
Strasbourg on the way.
While on tour, Vogt
performed Luigi
Cherubini’s
(1760–1842) Ave
Maria, with soprano Anna
(Nanette) Schechner
(1806–1860), and a
Concertino, presumably
written by himself. As a
virtuoso performer in
pursuit of repertoire to
play, Vogt found himself
writing much of his own
music. His catalog
includes chamber music,
variation sets, vocal
music, concerted works,
religious music, wind
band arrangements, and
pedagogical material. He
most frequently performed
his variation sets, which
were largely based on
themes from popular
operas he had, presumably
played while he was at
the Opéra.He made his
final tour in 1839,
traveling to Tours and
Bordeaux. During this
tour he appeared with the
singer Caroline Naldi,
Countess de Sparre, and
the violinist Joseph
Artôt
(1815–1845). This
ended his active career
as a soloist. His
performance was described
in the Revue et gazette
musicale de Paris as
having “lost none
of his superiority over
the oboe….
It’s always the
same grace, the same
sweetness. We made a trip
to Switzerland, just by
closing your eyes and
listening to
Vogt’s
oboe.â€Vogt was also
active performing in
Paris as a chamber and
orchestral musician. He
was one of the founding
members of the
Société des
Concerts du
Conservatoire, a group
established in 1828 by
violinist and conductor
François-Antoine
Habeneck
(1781–1849). The
group featured faculty
and students performing
alongside each other and
works such as Beethoven
symphonies, which had
never been heard in
France. He also premiered
the groundbreaking
woodwind quintets of
Antonin Reicha
(1770–1836).After
his retirement from the
Opéra in 1834 and from
the Société des
Concerts du Conservatoire
in 1842, Vogt began to
slow down. His final
known performance was of
Cherubini’s Ave
Maria on English horn
with tenor Alexis Dupont
(1796–1874) in
1843. He then began to
reflect on his life and
the people he had known.
When he reached his 60s,
he began gathering
entries for his Musical
Album of
Autographs.Autograph
AlbumsVogt’s
Musical Album of
Autographs is part of a
larger practice of
keeping autograph albums,
also commonly known as
Stammbuch or Album
Amicorum (meaning book of
friendship or friendship
book), which date back to
the time of the
Reformation and the
University of Wittenberg.
It was during the
mid-sixteenth century
that students at the
University of Wittenberg
began passing around
bibles for their fellow
students and professors
to sign, leaving messages
to remember them by as
they moved on to the next
part of their lives. The
things people wrote were
mottos, quotes, and even
drawings of their family
coat of arms or some
other scene that meant
something to the owner.
These albums became the
way these young students
remembered their school
family once they had
moved on to another
school or town. It was
also common for the
entrants to comment on
other entries and for the
owner to amend entries
when they learned of
important life details
such as marriage or
death.As the practice
continued, bibles were
set aside for emblem
books, which was a
popular book genre that
featured allegorical
illustrations (emblems)
in a tripartite form:
image, motto, epigram.
The first emblem book
used for autographs was
published in 1531 by
Andrea Alciato
(1492–1550), a
collection of 212 Latin
emblem poems. In 1558,
the first book conceived
for the purpose of the
album amicorum was
published by Lyon de
Tournes
(1504–1564) called
the Thesaurus Amicorum.
These books continued to
evolve, and spread to
wider circles away from
universities. Albums
could be found being kept
by noblemen, physicians,
lawyers, teachers,
painters, musicians, and
artisans.The albums
eventually became more
specialized, leading to
Musical Autograph Albums
(or Notestammbücher).
Before this
specialization, musicians
contributed in one form
or another, but our
knowledge of them in
these albums is mostly
limited to individual
people or events. Some
would simply sign their
name while others would
insert a fragment of
music, usually a canon
(titled fuga) with text
in Latin. Canons were
popular because they
displayed the
craftsmanship of the
composer in a limited
space. Composers
well-known today,
including J. S. Bach,
Telemann, Mozart,
Beethoven, Dowland, and
Brahms, all participated
in the practice, with
Beethoven being the first
to indicate an interest
in creating an album only
of music.This interest
came around 1815. In an
1845 letter from Johann
Friedrich Naue to
Heinrich Carl
Breidenstein, Naue
recalled an 1813 visit
with Beethoven, who
presented a book
suggesting Naue to
collect entries from
celebrated musicians as
he traveled. Shortly
after we find Louis Spohr
speaking about leaving on
his “grand
tour†through
Europe in 1815 and of his
desire to carry an album
with entries from the
many artists he would
come across. He wrote in
his autobiography that
his “most valuable
contribution†came
from Beethoven in 1815.
Spohr’s
Notenstammbuch, comprised
only of musical entries,
is groundbreaking because
it was coupled with a
concert tour, allowing
him to reach beyond the
Germanic world, where the
creation of these books
had been nearly
exclusive. Spohr brought
the practice of
Notenstammbücher to
France, and in turn
indirectly inspired Vogt
to create a book of his
own some fifteen years
later.Vogt’s
Musical Album of
AutographsVogt’s
Musical Album of
Autographs acts as a form
of a memoir, displaying
mementos of musicians who
held special meaning in
his life as well as
showing those with whom
he was enamored from the
younger generation. The
anonymous Pie Jesu
submitted to Vogt in 1831
marks the beginning of an
album that would span
nearly three decades by
the time the final entry,
an excerpt from Charles
Gounod’s
(1818–1893) Faust,
which premiered in 1859,
was submitted.Within this
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Published by Hal Leonard
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| Rise Again Songbook Hal Leonard
(Words and Chords to Nearly 1200 Songs Spiral-Bound). Edited by Annie Patterson ...(+)
(Words and Chords to
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Annie Patterson and Peter
Blood. For Vocal. Vocal.
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Published by Hal Leonard
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Instruments en Do [Fake Book] Hal Leonard
For C instrument and voice. Format: fakebook (spiral bound). With chord names, v...(+)
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Published by Hal Leonard.
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Fakebook for Eb instrument and voice. With vocal melody, lyrics and leadsheet no...(+)
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Series: Hal Leonard Fake
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| Folk Songs of the World [Conducteur et Parties séparées] - Intermédiaire De Haske Publications
4 Part Variable Wind Ensemble with Percussion - intermediate SKU: BT.DHP-1216...(+)
4 Part Variable Wind
Ensemble with Percussion
- intermediate SKU:
BT.DHP-1216326-070
Arranged by Wil van der
Beek. Music Box. Folk
Music. Set (Score &
Parts). Composed 2021. De
Haske Publications #DHP
1216326-070. Published by
De Haske Publications
(BT.DHP-1216326-070).
ISBN 9789043162067.
English-German-French-Dut
ch. 1. Emerald
Isle, in this part, the
musical spotlight focuses
in on the green island of
Ireland and its great
wealth of traditional
folk music. The piece
opens with the air
‘My Lodging Is on
the Cold Ground’,
also known under the
title ‘Believe Me,
If All Those Endearing
Young Charms’
(bars 5-24). Next, we
hear another well-known
air ‘The Minstrel
Boy’ (bars 29-44).
Finally, the air
‘The Groves of
Blarney’, possibly
better known as
‘The Last Rose of
Summer’ (bars
53-68) is heard. Each air
is heralded by a short
introduction and brought
to an end by a short
conclusion. 2. Old
Kentucky Memories,
following an introduction
of 14 bars all attention
is claimed by the song
‘My Old Kentucky
Home’. As the
piece goes on, snippets
of memories emerge,
fleetingly, surfacing
fast, but quickly
disappearing again: this
is musically featured by
way of small motifs and
themes from other songs.
These can be heard
briefly, and then they
disappear, musing on Old
Kentucky until the
introduction returns to
end the piece. 3.
Uppland, is a province in
Sweden that had a rich
folk music culture, like
the whole of Sweden, that
boasts many songs and
dances. A notable amount
of these songs and dances
have been composed in
minor keys, three of
which feature in this
part. First, we hear
‘Svensk
folkvisa’(bars
1-38), followed by the
famous
‘Värmlandsvisan
€™ (bars 39-67) and
then brought to an end by
‘Vexelsang’
(bars 68-end). 4.
Ratatouille, in this
part, no folk songs of
just one country or one
province are featured.
This piece is a mishmash
(or ratatouille), a
hotchpotch of three folk
songs with no significant
relation at all. In
succession, we hear a
song from Russia (bars
1-30), one from Japan
(bars 31-58) and one from
Australia (bars 59-end).
The composer of the
Russian song titled
‘The
Nightingale’ is
Alexander Alyabyev (1787
1851), but the composers
of the Japanese song
titled
‘Sakura’ and
the Australian
‘Waltzing
Matilda’ are
unknown.
1.
Emerald Isle, in dit deel
zijn de muzikale
schijnwerpers gericht op
het groene eiland
Ierland, op de grote
rijkdom aan traditionele
volksmuziek. Het werkje
opent met de air
‘My Lodging Is on
the Cold Ground’,
ook bekend onder de titel
‘Believe Me, If All
Those Endearing Young
Charms’ (maat
5-24). Daarna volgt de
bekende air ‘The
Minstrel Boy’
(maat 29-44). En ten
slotte horen we nog de
air ‘The Groves of
Blarney’,
misschien beter bekend
als ‘The Last Rose
of Summer’ (maat
53-68). Elke air wordt
voorafgegaan door een
korte inleiding en
beëindigd met een
korte afsluiting. 2. Old
Kentucky Memories, na een
inleiding van 14 maten
(deels ook als afsluiting
van dit deel gebruikt)
wordt alle aandacht
opgeëist door de song
‘My Old Kentucky
Home’. Al gauw
doemen er echter flarden
van herinneringen op,
vluchtig, snel opkomend,
maar ook weer snel
verdwijnend: dit krijgt
muzikaal gestalte door
middel van motiefjes en
thema’s uit andere
songs. Deze zijn even
hoorbaar en dan weer vlug
verdwenen... Mijmeren
over Old Kentucky dus...
3. Uppland, is een
provincie in Zweden met
een rijke muziekcultuur,
zoals heel Zweden
trouwens ruim bedeeld is
met volksliederen en
volksdansen. Opvallend
veel van deze liederen en
dansen zijn gecomponeerd
in mineurtoonsoorten. Dit
is ook het geval met de
drie voor dit deel
uitgekozen songs: als
eerste ‘Svensk
folkvisa’(maat
1-38), gevolgd door het
bekende
‘Värmlandsvisan
€™ (maat 39-67) en
tot besluit
‘Vexelsang’
(maat 68-slot). 4.
Ratatouille, in dit deel
worden geen volksliedjes
van één land of
één provincie
belicht. Dit werkje is
een
‘ratjetoe’
(ratatouille), een
allegaartje van drie
folksongs die onderling
geen enkel verband met
elkaar hebben: de enige
overeenkomst is dat ze
alle drie als volksmuziek
bestempeld kunnen worden.
Achtereenvolgens klinkt
er een lied uit Rusland
(maat 1-30), uit Japan
(maat 31-58) en uit
Australië (maat
59-slot). Van het
Russische lied met de
titel ‘De
nachtegaal’ is de
componist bekend: dat is
Aleksandr Aljabjev (1787
1851). Van het Japanse
lied
‘Sakura’ en
de Australische song
‘Waltzing
Matilda’ kennen we
niet de componist
niet.
1. Emerald
Isle, in diesem Abschnitt
richtet sich die
musikalische
Aufmerksamkeit auf die
grüne Insel Irland mit
ihrem großen Reichtum
an traditioneller
Volksmusik. Das Stück
beginnt mit der Melodie
My Lodging Is on the Cold
Ground“, auch
bekannt unter dem Titel
Believe Me, If All Those
Endearing Young
Charms“ (Takt
5-24). Anschließend
erklingt die bekannte
Melodie The Minstrel
Boy“ (Takt 29-44).
Schließlich ist The
Groves of Blarney“,
vielleicht bekannter
unter dem Titel The Last
Rose of Summer“
(Takt 53-68), zu
hören. Jede Melodie
wird durch eine kurze
Einleitung angekündigt
und mit einem kurzen
Nachspiel beendet. 2. Old
Kentucky Memories, nach
einer 14 Takte dauerndern
Einleitung tritt das Lied
My Old Kentucky
Home“ in den
Mittelpunkt. Im weiteren
Verlauf des Stücks
erscheinen
bruchstückhafte
Erinnerungen, die fast so
schnell wieder
verschwinden, wie sie
auftauchen. Dies wird
musikalisch durch kleine
Motive und Themen aus
anderen Liedern
dargestellt. Diese sind
kurz zu hören und
verschwinden dann,
während man über
Old Kentucky nachdenkt,
bis die Einleitung wieder
erklingt, die zum Schluss
des Stückes führt.
3. Uppland, ist eine
schwedische Provinz, die
wie ganz Schweden eine
reiche Volksmusikkultur
mit vielen Liedern und
Tänzen hat. Eine
große Anzahl der
Lieder und Tänze, von
denen drei in diesem
Abschnitt enthalten sind,
stehen in Moll-Tonarten.
Zuerst hören wir
Svensk folkvisa“
(Takt 1-38), darauf
erklingt das berühmte
Värmlandsvisan“
(Takt 39-67) und am Ende
Vexelsang“ (Takt
68-end). 4. Ratatouille,
in diesem Abschnitt
werden nicht die
Volkslieder eines
einzigen Landes oder
einer einzigen Provinz
vorgestellt, sondern das
Stück ist ein Mischung
(oder Ratatouille“)
aus drei Volksliedern,
die keinerlei Beziehung
zueinander haben.
Zunächst erklingt ein
Lied aus Russland (Takt
1-30), dann eines aus
Japan (Takt 31-58) und
zum Schluss eines aus
Australien (Takt
59-Ende). Der Komponist
des russischen Liedes mit
dem Titel The
Nightingale“ ist
Alexander Alyabyev (1787
1851). Die Komponisten
des japanischen Liedes
Sakura“ und der
australischen Melodie
Waltzing Matilda“
sind unbekannt.
1.
Emerald Isle (ÃŽle
d’émeraude),
cette première partie
met en vedette la
verdoyante île
d’Irlande et son
riche patrimoine de
musique folklorique
traditionnelle. Elle
s’ouvre avec «
My Lodging Is on the Cold
Ground », un air
également connu sous
le titre « Believe Me,
If All Those Endearing
Young Charms »
(mesures 5-24). Vient
ensuite un autre air
célèbre, « The
Minstrel Boy »
(mesures 29-44),
lui-même suivi de «
The Groves of Blarney
», peut être mieux
connu sous le titre «
The Last Rose of Summer
» (mesures 53-68).
Chaque air est annoncé
par une courte
introduction et
s’achève avec
une courte conclusion. 2.
Old Kentucky Memories
(Souvenirs du vieux
Kentucky), après une
introduction de 14
mesures, toute
l’attention se
porte sur la chanson «
My Old Kentucky Home
». A fil de la
pièce, des fragments
de souvenirs fugaces
émergent,
disparaissant aussi vite
qu’ils se
présentent : cette
impression est
créée par le biais
de courts motifs et
thèmes empruntés
d’autres chansons.
On les entend
brièvement puis ils
s’estompent, comme
de lointains souvenirs du
vieux Kentucky,
jusqu’ une reprise
de l’introduction
pour conclure la
pièce. 3. Uppland, est
une province suédoise
aux riches traditions
musicales, tout comme
l’ensemble de la
Suède, qui compte de
nombreuses danses et
chansons. Beaucoup sont
en tonalité mineure,
et cette partie en
comprend trois. La
première est «
Svensk folkvisa »
(mesures 1-38), qui est
suivie de «
‘Värmlandsvisan
» (mesures 39-67), et
la pièce
s’achève avec
« Vexelsang »
(mesure 68 jusqu’
la fin). 4. Ratatouille,
cette dernière partie
ne comprend pas
d’air provenant
d’un seul pays.
C’est un
méli-mélo, une «
ratatouille » de trois
chansons folkloriques
sans aucun lien. Il y a
d’abord une
chanson russe, « Le
Rossignol » (mesures
1-30), puis « Sakura
», originaire du Japon
(mesures 31-58) et,
enfin, « Waltzing
Matilda », venue
d’Australie
(mesure 59 jusqu’
la fin). La chanson russe
est d’Alexander
Alyabyev (1787-1851),
mais nous ignorons les
auteurs des deux autres
chansons. $36.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Acadia [Conducteur] Theodore Presser Co.
Band Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clar...(+)
Band Bass Clarinet,
Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2,
Clarinet, Clarinet 1,
Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3,
Contrabass Clarinet,
Contrabassoon, Double
Bass, English Horn,
Euphonium, Flute 1, Flute
2, Horn 1, Horn 2, Horn
3, Horn 4, Oboe 1, Oboe
2, Percussion 1 and more.
SKU: PR.16500103F
Mvt. 3 from Symphony
No. 6 (Three Places in
the East). Composed
by Dan Welcher. Full
score. 60 pages. Theodore
Presser Company
#165-00103F. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(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. $39.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Great Smoky Mountains [Conducteur] Theodore Presser Co.
Band Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clar...(+)
Band Bass Clarinet,
Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2,
Clarinet, Clarinet 1,
Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3,
Contrabass Clarinet,
Contrabassoon, Double
Bass, English Horn,
Euphonium, Flute 1, Flute
2, Horn 1, Horn 2, Horn
3, Horn 4, Oboe 1, Oboe
2, Percussion 1 and more.
SKU: PR.16500102F
Mvt. 2 from Symphony
No. 6 (Three Places in
the East). Composed
by Dan Welcher. Full
score. 52 pages. Theodore
Presser Company
#165-00102F. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(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. $36.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Everglades (River of Grass) [Conducteur] Theodore Presser Co.
Band Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clar...(+)
Band Bass Clarinet,
Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2,
Clarinet, Clarinet 1,
Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3,
Contrabass Clarinet,
Contrabassoon, Double
Bass, English Horn,
Euphonium, Flute 1, Flute
2, Horn 1, Horn 2, Horn
3, Horn 4, Oboe 1, Oboe
2, Percussion 1 and more.
SKU: PR.16500101F
Mvt. 1 from Symphony
No. 6 (Three Places in
the East). Composed
by Dan Welcher. Full
score. 52 pages. Theodore
Presser Company
#165-00101F. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(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. $36.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Symphony No. 6 [Conducteur] Theodore Presser Co.
Band SKU: PR.16500104F Three Places in the East. Composed by Dan W...(+)
Band SKU:
PR.16500104F Three
Places in the East.
Composed by Dan Welcher.
Full score. Theodore
Presser Company
#165-00104F. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(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. $90.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| The Ultimate Jazz Fake Book - Bb edition Instruments en Sib [Fake Book] Hal Leonard
Bb Edition. Fake Book (Includes melody line and chords). Size 9x12 inches. 448 ...(+)
Bb Edition. Fake Book
(Includes melody line and
chords). Size 9x12
inches. 448 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard.
(3)$49.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Variations on "America" Piano seul Theodore Presser Co.
Chamber Music Piano SKU: PR.110418370 Composed by Charles Ives. Arranged ...(+)
Chamber Music Piano
SKU: PR.110418370
Composed by Charles Ives.
Arranged by Danny Holt.
Performance Score. 20
pages. Duration 8
minutes. Theodore Presser
Company #110-41837.
Published by Theodore
Presser Company
(PR.110418370). ISBN
9781491135075. UPC:
680160686247. Compo
sed as an organ solo by
the 17-year-old Ives for
his own performance
purposes, the beloved
Variations on America is
a treat for any occasion,
whether a holiday
concert, a serious
recital, or other special
event. Danny
Holt’s
transcription for Piano,
Four Hands adds a
dazzling new option to
play at home or on stage,
taking best advantage of
Ives’ tremendous
contrasts in color,
dynamics, and
texture. Composed when
Charles Ives was a
teenager, Variations on
“America†is
both a convenient
introduction to
Ives’ body of
work, and an early
example of his
iconoclastic musical
voice and creative
genius. Just a few years
after composing this
piece, Ives would leave
home to study music at
Yale. But until then he
had been taught by his
father, George (who had
been a bandmaster in the
Civil War). George
subjected the young Ives
to experiments such as
singing a song in one key
while being accompanied
in another, or arranging
for two marching bands to
converge on a town
center, with the
resulting cacophony that
ensued.The Variations
exemplifies an early
period of experimentation
in Ives’ work,
spurred on by the unusual
pedagogy of his father.
The piece is particularly
notable for its use of
bitonality in the two
interludes, subtly
foreshadowing more
well-known examples by
Stravinsky, Bartók,
and others by
approximately two
decades.The bitonal
interludes were so ahead
of their time, in fact,
they were omitted from
the first copy that was
submitted to a publisher
in 1892. (Alas, the piece
was rejected even despite
these
“shockingâ€
elements having been left
out, and it wasn’t
published until more than
five decades later.)
There is some ambiguity
about when exactly Ives
added the interludes into
his manuscript copy,
though ample evidence
suggests he had performed
the piece with the
interludes around the
time he notated the piece
in 1891-92. In any case,
in light of this piece
and his other polytonal
explorations from the
last decade of the 19th
century, it seems fair to
give Ives credit for
being a pioneer in this
area!This arrangement for
Piano, Four Hands,
closely follows
Ives’ original
version for organ,
setting aside William
Schuman’s popular
adaptation for symphony
orchestra and William
Rhoads’ band
transcription of the
Schuman orchestration.
Pianists will find that
the piece translates well
to the instrument.
Ideally, the choreography
and logistics of
elbow-to-elbow four-hands
playing approximates the
wild joy one gets from
watching an organist play
the piece (e.g., the
elaborate pedal part in
the final variation).In
preparing this
publication, attention
was paid to details in
the dual Critical
Editions (Presser
443-41003) of both
Ives’ manuscript
edition and the 1949
publication edited by
organist E. Power Biggs
(who is credited with
discovering what had been
a long-lost, forgotten
work.) But as with much
of Ives’ output,
attempting to create a
true
‘urtext’
score is a futile
endeavor, and especially
with a piece such as this
one – in which
Ives incorporated
improvisation in live
performance –
seems unnecessary anyhow.
True die-hards are of
course encouraged to
consult the critical
editions and even find
inspiration in the
orchestrated version.
Generally, performers are
advised to be wild, have
fun, and not to be too
rigid in their
interpretive
choices.Dynamics in this
arrangement mostly follow
the organ score closely.
Pianists will use good
judgment about pedaling
throughout, which should
be straightforward and
intuitive. Courtesy
accidentals have been
provided frequently
– without
parentheses –
balancing the need for
extra clarity in the
context of Ives’
murky musical language,
and a desire to avoid
unnecessary clutter.A few
notes that might inform
interpretive
decisions:mm. 15-16:
There are inconsistencies
here between Ives’
original manuscript and
the 1949 Biggs edition,
regarding the top voice
in m. 15, beat 3 (C# vs.
Cn) and m. 16 (D Major
vs. D Minor).mm. 76-84 &
143-146: In both
Interludes, Ives
emphatically notates
extreme dynamic contrast,
in order to highlight the
bitonality. Although it
may seem counterintuitive
(or even a misprint, as
has apparently been
misconstrued by some),
performers are urged to
follow the
composer’s
marking!m. 109: Two-note
slurs have been added
here for clarity and
consistency with other
similar passages, though
they do not appear in
either the original
manuscript or Biggs.m.
112: The last two eighth
notes of Primo appear as
16ths in the original
manuscript.mm. 183-186:
The original manuscript
has a slightly different
bass line.mm. 184 & 186:
Primo gestures have been
re-written to be slightly
more idiomatic for Piano,
Four Hands.m. 186: The
breath mark at the end of
this bar does not appear
in either the manuscript
or Biggs, but is an
editorial suggestion
– aside from being
appropriately dramatic,
it will indeed be
necessary in a
reverberant hall!I would
like to thank Steven
Vanhauwaert, the other
half of my piano duo,
4handsLA, for his input
on early drafts of this
arrangement.—
Danny Holt, April
2022. $24.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 1 to 2 weeks | | |
| For the Mystic Harmony Theodore Presser Co.
Band Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clar...(+)
Band Bass Clarinet,
Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2,
Clarinet, Clarinet 1,
Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3,
Contrabass Clarinet,
Contrabassoon, English
Horn, Flute 1, Flute 2,
Oboe 1, Oboe 2, Piccolo,
alto Saxophone, soprano
Saxophone, tenor
Saxophone SKU:
PR.165001000 Hymns
for Wind Ensemble.
Composed by Dan Welcher.
Folio. Set of Score and
Parts.
4+24+24+16+8+4+4+24+12+12
+8+4+4+4+4+8+8+8+8+4+4+4+
4+8+8+8+8+8+8+8+8+4+16+4+
8+4+8+8+4+4+4+48 pages.
Duration 10 minutes, 41
seconds. Theodore Presser
Company #165-00100.
Published by Theodore
Presser Company
(PR.165001000). ISBN
9781491129241. UPC:
680160669776. 9 x 12
inches. Commissione
d for a consortium of
high school and college
bands in the north Dallas
region, FOR THEMYSTIC
HARMONY is a 10-minute
inspirational work in
homage to Norwood and
Elizabeth Dixon,patrons
of the Fort Worth
Symphony and the Van
Cliburn Competition.
Welcher draws melodic
flavorfrom five American
hymns, spirituals, and
folk tunes of the 19th
century. The last of
these sources toappear is
the hymn tune For the
Beauty of the Earth,
whose third stanza is the
quatrain: “For the
joy of earand eye, For
the heart and
mind’s delight,
For the mystic harmony,
Linking sense to sound
and sight,â€giving
rise to the work’s
title. This work,
commissioned for a
consortium of high school
bands in the north Dallas
area, is my fifteenth
maturework for wind
ensemble (not counting
transcriptions). When I
asked Todd Dixon, the
band director
whospearheaded this
project, what kind of a
work he most wanted, he
first said
“something
that’s basically
slow,†butwanted to
leave the details to me.
During a long subsequent
conversation, he
mentioned that his
grandparents,Norwood and
Elizabeth Dixon, were
prime supporters of the
Fort Worth Symphony,
going so far as to
purchase anumber of high
quality instruments for
that orchestra. This
intrigued me, so I asked
more about his
grandparentsand was
provided an 80-page
biographical sketch.
Reading that article,
including a long section
about theirdevotion to
supporting a young man
through the rigors of the
Van Cliburn International
Piano Competition fora
number of years, moved me
very much. Norwood and
Elizabeth Dixon
weren’t just
supporters of the arts;
theywere passionate
lovers of music and
musicians. I determined
to make this work a
testament to that love,
and tothe religious faith
that sustained them both.
The idea of using extant
hymns was also suggested
by Todd Dixon,and this
10-minute work is the
result.I have employed
existing melodies in
several works, delving
into certain kinds of
religious music more than
a fewtimes. In seeking
new sounds, new ways of
harmonizing old tunes,
and the contrapuntal
overlaying of one
tunewith another, I was
able to make works like
ZION (using 19th-century
Revivalist hymns) and
LABORING SONGS(using
Shaker melodies) reflect
the spirit of the
composers who created
these melodies, without
sounding likepastiches or
medleys. I determined to
do the same with this new
work, with the added
problem of
employingmelodies that
were more familiar. I
chose five tunes from the
19th century: hymns,
spirituals, and
folk-tunes.Some of these
are known by differing
titles, but they all
appear in hymnals of
various Christian
denominations(with
various titles and
texts). My idea was to
employ the tunes without
altering their notes,
instead using aconstantly
modulating sense of
harmony —
sometimes leading to
polytonal harmonizations
of what are
normallysimple four-chord
hymns.The work begins and
ends with a repeated
chime on the note C: a
reminder of steeples,
white clapboard
churchesin the country,
and small church organs.
Beginning with a
Mixolydian folk tune of
Caribbean origin
presentedtwice with
layered entrances, the
work starts with a
feeling of mystery and
gentle sorrow. It
proceeds, after along
transition, into a second
hymn that is sometimes
connected to the sea
(hence the sensation of
water andwaves throughout
it). This tune, by John
B. Dykes (1823-1876), is
a bit more chromatic and
“shifty†than
mosthymn-tunes, so I
chose to play with the
constant sensation of
modulation even more than
the original does. Atthe
climax, the familiar
spiritual “Were you
there?†takes over,
with a double-time
polytonal feeling
propelling itforward at
“Sometimes it
causes me to
tremble.â€Trumpets
in counterpoint raise the
temperature, and the
tempo as well, leading
the music into a third
tune (ofunknown
provenance, though it
appears with different
texts in various hymnals)
that is presented in a
sprightlymanner. Bassoons
introduce the melody, but
it is quickly taken up by
other instruments over
three
“verses,â€cons
tantly growing in
orchestration and volume.
A mysterious second tune,
unrelated to this one,
interrupts it inall three
verses, sending the
melody into unknown
regions.The final melody
is “For the Beauty
of the Earth.†This
tune by Conrad Kocher
(1786-1872) is commonly
sung atThanksgiving
— the perfect
choice to end this work
celebrating two people
known for their
generosity.Keeping the
sense of constant
modulation that has been
present throughout, I
chose to present this
hymn in threegrowing
verses, but with a twist:
every four bars, the
“key†of the
hymn seems to shift
— until the
“Lord of all,
toThee we praiseâ€
melody bursts out in a
surprising compound
meter. This, as it turns
out, was the
“mystery
tuneâ€heard earlier
in the piece. After an
Ivesian, almost polytonal
climax, the Coda begins
over a long B( pedal. At
first,it seems to be a
restatement of the first
two phrases of “For
the Beauty†with
long spaces between them,
but it soonchanges to a
series of
“Amenâ€
cadences, widely
separated by range and
color. These, too, do not
conform to anykey, but
instead overlay each
other in ways that are
unpredictable but
strangely comforting.The
third verse of “For
the Beauty of the
Earth†contains
this quatrain:“For
the joy of ear and eye,
–For the heart and
mind’s delightFor
the mystic harmonyLinking
sense to sound and
sightâ€and it was
from this poetry that I
drew the title for the
present work. It is my
hope that audiences and
performerswill find
within it a sense of
grace: more than a little
familiar, but also quite
new and unexpected. $150.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| For the Mystic Harmony [Conducteur] Theodore Presser Co.
Band Bass Clarinet, Bass Drum, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Bongos, Castanets, Celesta,...(+)
Band Bass Clarinet, Bass
Drum, Bassoon 1, Bassoon
2, Bongos, Castanets,
Celesta, Clarinet,
Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2,
Clarinet 3, Contrabass
Clarinet, Contrabassoon,
English Horn, Euphonium,
Euphonium T.C., Flute 1,
Flute 2, Horn 1, Horn 2,
Horn 3 and more. SKU:
PR.16500100F Hymns
for Wind Ensemble.
Composed by Dan Welcher.
Sws. Full score. 48
pages. Duration 10
minutes, 41 seconds.
Theodore Presser Company
#165-00100F. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(PR.16500100F). ISBN
9781491114421. UPC:
680160669783. 9 x 12
inches. Commissione
d for a consortium of
high school and college
bands in the north Dallas
region, FOR THEMYSTIC
HARMONY is a 10-minute
inspirational work in
homage to Norwood and
Elizabeth Dixon,patrons
of the Fort Worth
Symphony and the Van
Cliburn Competition.
Welcher draws melodic
flavorfrom five American
hymns, spirituals, and
folk tunes of the 19th
century. The last of
these sources toappear is
the hymn tune For the
Beauty of the Earth,
whose third stanza is the
quatrain: “For the
joy of earand eye, For
the heart and
mind’s delight,
For the mystic harmony,
Linking sense to sound
and sight,â€giving
rise to the work’s
title. This work,
commissioned for a
consortium of high school
bands in the north Dallas
area, is my fifteenth
maturework for wind
ensemble (not counting
transcriptions). When I
asked Todd Dixon, the
band director
whospearheaded this
project, what kind of a
work he most wanted, he
first said
“something
that’s basically
slow,†butwanted to
leave the details to me.
During a long subsequent
conversation, he
mentioned that his
grandparents,Norwood and
Elizabeth Dixon, were
prime supporters of the
Fort Worth Symphony,
going so far as to
purchase anumber of high
quality instruments for
that orchestra. This
intrigued me, so I asked
more about his
grandparentsand was
provided an 80-page
biographical sketch.
Reading that article,
including a long section
about theirdevotion to
supporting a young man
through the rigors of the
Van Cliburn International
Piano Competition fora
number of years, moved me
very much. Norwood and
Elizabeth Dixon
weren’t just
supporters of the arts;
theywere passionate
lovers of music and
musicians. I determined
to make this work a
testament to that love,
and tothe religious faith
that sustained them both.
The idea of using extant
hymns was also suggested
by Todd Dixon,and this
10-minute work is the
result.I have employed
existing melodies in
several works, delving
into certain kinds of
religious music more than
a fewtimes. In seeking
new sounds, new ways of
harmonizing old tunes,
and the contrapuntal
overlaying of one
tunewith another, I was
able to make works like
ZION (using 19th-century
Revivalist hymns) and
LABORING SONGS(using
Shaker melodies) reflect
the spirit of the
composers who created
these melodies, without
sounding likepastiches or
medleys. I determined to
do the same with this new
work, with the added
problem of
employingmelodies that
were more familiar. I
chose five tunes from the
19th century: hymns,
spirituals, and
folk-tunes.Some of these
are known by differing
titles, but they all
appear in hymnals of
various Christian
denominations(with
various titles and
texts). My idea was to
employ the tunes without
altering their notes,
instead using aconstantly
modulating sense of
harmony —
sometimes leading to
polytonal harmonizations
of what are
normallysimple four-chord
hymns.The work begins and
ends with a repeated
chime on the note C: a
reminder of steeples,
white clapboard
churchesin the country,
and small church organs.
Beginning with a
Mixolydian folk tune of
Caribbean origin
presentedtwice with
layered entrances, the
work starts with a
feeling of mystery and
gentle sorrow. It
proceeds, after along
transition, into a second
hymn that is sometimes
connected to the sea
(hence the sensation of
water andwaves throughout
it). This tune, by John
B. Dykes (1823-1876), is
a bit more chromatic and
“shifty†than
mosthymn-tunes, so I
chose to play with the
constant sensation of
modulation even more than
the original does. Atthe
climax, the familiar
spiritual “Were you
there?†takes over,
with a double-time
polytonal feeling
propelling itforward at
“Sometimes it
causes me to
tremble.â€Trumpets
in counterpoint raise the
temperature, and the
tempo as well, leading
the music into a third
tune (ofunknown
provenance, though it
appears with different
texts in various hymnals)
that is presented in a
sprightlymanner. Bassoons
introduce the melody, but
it is quickly taken up by
other instruments over
three
“verses,â€cons
tantly growing in
orchestration and volume.
A mysterious second tune,
unrelated to this one,
interrupts it inall three
verses, sending the
melody into unknown
regions.The final melody
is “For the Beauty
of the Earth.†This
tune by Conrad Kocher
(1786-1872) is commonly
sung atThanksgiving
— the perfect
choice to end this work
celebrating two people
known for their
generosity.Keeping the
sense of constant
modulation that has been
present throughout, I
chose to present this
hymn in threegrowing
verses, but with a twist:
every four bars, the
“key†of the
hymn seems to shift
— until the
“Lord of all,
toThee we praiseâ€
melody bursts out in a
surprising compound
meter. This, as it turns
out, was the
“mystery
tuneâ€heard earlier
in the piece. After an
Ivesian, almost polytonal
climax, the Coda begins
over a long B( pedal. At
first,it seems to be a
restatement of the first
two phrases of “For
the Beauty†with
long spaces between them,
but it soonchanges to a
series of
“Amenâ€
cadences, widely
separated by range and
color. These, too, do not
conform to anykey, but
instead overlay each
other in ways that are
unpredictable but
strangely comforting.The
third verse of “For
the Beauty of the
Earth†contains
this quatrain:“For
the joy of ear and eye,
–For the heart and
mind’s delightFor
the mystic harmonyLinking
sense to sound and
sightâ€and it was
from this poetry that I
drew the title for the
present work. It is my
hope that audiences and
performerswill find
within it a sense of
grace: more than a little
familiar, but also quite
new and unexpected. $25.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| The Best Rock Pop Fake Book Instruments en Do [Fake Book] Hal Leonard
(For C Instruments). By Various. For C Instruments. Fake Book. Softcover. 576 pa...(+)
(For C Instruments). By
Various. For C
Instruments. Fake Book.
Softcover. 576 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard
$39.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| String Quartet No. 3 Quatuor à cordes: 2 violons, alto, violoncelle [Conducteur] Theodore Presser Co.
String quartet String Quartet SKU: PR.16400272S Cassatt. Composed ...(+)
String quartet String
Quartet SKU:
PR.16400272S
Cassatt. Composed
by Dan Welcher. Premiere:
Cassatt Quartet,
Northeastern Illinois
University, Chicago, IL.
Contemporary. Full score.
With Standard notation.
Composed 2007. WRT11142.
52 pages. Duration 24
minutes. Theodore Presser
Company #164-00272S.
Published by Theodore
Presser Company
(PR.16400272S). UPC:
680160588442. 8.5 x 11
inches. My third
quartet is laid out in a
three-movement structure,
with each movement based
on an early, middle, and
late work of the great
American impressionist
painter Mary Cassatt.
Although the movements
are separate, with
full-stop endings, the
music is connected by a
common scale-form,
derived from the name
MARY CASSATT, and by a
recurring theme that
introduces all three
movements. I see this
theme as Mary's Theme, a
personality that stays
intact while undergoing
gradual change. I
The Bacchante (1876)
[Pennsylvania Academy of
Fine Arts, Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania] The
painting shows a young
girl of Italian or
Spanish origin, playing a
small pair of cymbals.
Since Cassatt was trying
very hard to fit in at
the French Academy at the
time, she painted a lot
of these subjects, which
were considered typical
and universal. The style
of the painting doesn't
yet show Cassatt's
originality, except
perhaps for certain
details in the face.
Accordingly the music for
this movement is
Spanish/Italian, in a
similar period-style but
using the musical
signature described
above. The music begins
with Mary's Theme,
ruminative and slow, then
abruptly changes to an
alla Spagnola-type fast
3/4 - 6/8 meter. It
evokes the
Spanish-influenced music
of Ravel and Falla.
Midway through,
there's an accompanied
recitative for the viola,
which figures large in
this particular movement,
then back to a truncated
recapitulation of the
fast music. The overall
feeling is of a
well-made, rather
conventional movement in
a contemporary
Spanish/Italian style.
Cassatt's painting, too,
is rather conventional.
II At the Opera
(1880) [Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston,
Massachusetts]
This painting is one of
Cassatt's most well known
works, and it hangs in
the Museum of Fine Arts
in Boston. The painting
shows a woman alone in a
box at the opera house,
completely dressed
(including gloves) and
looking through opera
glasses at someone or
something that is NOT on
the stage. Across the
auditorium from her, but
exactly at eye level, is
a gentleman with opera
glasses intently watching
her - though it is not
him that she's looking
at. It's an intriguing
picture. This
movement is far less
conventional than the
first movement, as the
painting is far less
conventional. The music
begins with a rapid,
Shostakovich-type
mini-overture lasting
less than a minute, based
on Mary's Theme. My
conjecture is that the
woman in the painting has
arrived late to the
opera, busily stumbling
into her box. What
happens next is a kind of
collage, a kind of
surrealistic overlaying
of two different
elements: the foreground
music, at first is a
direct quotation of
Soldier's Chorus from
Gounod's FAUST (an opera
Cassatt would certainly
have heard in the
brand-new Paris Opera
House at that time),
played by Violin II,
Viola, and Cello. This
music is played sul
ponticello in the melody
and col legno in the
marching accompaniment.
On top of this, the first
violin hovers at first on
a high harmonic, then
descends into a slow
melody, completely
separate from the Gounod.
It's as if the woman in
the painting is hearing
the opera onstage but is
not really interested in
it. Then the cello joins
the first violin in a
kind of love-duet (just
the two of them, at
first). This music isn't
at all Gounod-derived;
it's entirely from the
same scale patterns as
the first movement and
derives from Mary's Theme
and its scale. The music
stays in a kind of
dichotomy feeling,
usually
three-against-one, until
the end of the movement,
when another Gounod
melody, Valentin's aria
Avant de quitter ce lieux
reappears in a kind of
coda for all four
players. It ends
atmospherically and
emotionally disconnected,
however. The overall
feeling is a kind of
schizophrenic,
opera-inspired dream.
III Young Woman in
Green, Outdoors in the
Sun (1909) [Worcester Art
Museum, Massachusetts]
The painting, one
of Cassatt's last, is
very simple: just a
figure, looking sideways
out of the picture. The
colors are pastel and yet
bold - and the woman is
likewise very
self-assured and not in
the least demure. It is
eight minutes long, and
is all about melody -
three melodies, to be
exact (Young Woman,
Green, and Sunlight). No
angst, no choppy rhythms,
just ever-unfolding
melody and lush
harmonies. I quote one
other French composer
here, too: Debussy's song
Green, from Ariettes
Oubliees. 1909 would have
been Debussy's heyday in
Paris, and it makes
perfect sense musically
as well as visually to do
this. Mary Cassatt
lived her last several
years in near-total
blindness, and as she
lost visual acuity, her
work became less sharply
defined - something akin
to late water lilies of
Monet, who suffered
similar vision loss. My
idea of making this
movement entirely melodic
was compounded by having
each of the three
melodies appear twice,
once in a pure form, and
the second time in a more
diffuse setting. This
makes an interesting two
ways form:
A-B-C-A1-B1-C1.
String Quartet No.3
(Cassatt) is dedicated,
with great affection and
respect, to the Cassatt
String Quartet, whose
members have dedicated
themselves in large
measure to the furthering
of the contemporary
repertoire for
quartet. $38.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| String Quartet No. 3 Quatuor à cordes: 2 violons, alto, violoncelle Theodore Presser Co.
Chamber Music String Quartet SKU: PR.164002720 Cassatt. Composed b...(+)
Chamber Music String
Quartet SKU:
PR.164002720
Cassatt. Composed
by Dan Welcher. Spiral
and Saddle. Premiere:
Cassatt Quartet,
Northeastern Illinois
University, Chicago, IL.
Contemporary. Set of
Score and Parts. With
Standard notation.
Composed 2007. WRT11142.
52+16+16+16+16 pages.
Duration 24 minutes.
Theodore Presser Company
#164-00272. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(PR.164002720). UPC:
680160573042. 8.5 x 11
inches. My third
quartet is laid out in a
three-movement structure,
with each movement based
on an early, middle, and
late work of the great
American impressionist
painter Mary Cassatt.
Although the movements
are separate, with
full-stop endings, the
music is connected by a
common scale-form,
derived from the name
MARY CASSATT, and by a
recurring theme that
introduces all three
movements. I see this
theme as Mary's Theme, a
personality that stays
intact while undergoing
gradual change. I
The Bacchante (1876)
[Pennsylvania Academy of
Fine Arts, Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania] The
painting shows a young
girl of Italian or
Spanish origin, playing a
small pair of cymbals.
Since Cassatt was trying
very hard to fit in at
the French Academy at the
time, she painted a lot
of these subjects, which
were considered typical
and universal. The style
of the painting doesn't
yet show Cassatt's
originality, except
perhaps for certain
details in the face.
Accordingly the music for
this movement is
Spanish/Italian, in a
similar period-style but
using the musical
signature described
above. The music begins
with Mary's Theme,
ruminative and slow, then
abruptly changes to an
alla Spagnola-type fast
3/4 - 6/8 meter. It
evokes the
Spanish-influenced music
of Ravel and Falla.
Midway through,
there's an accompanied
recitative for the viola,
which figures large in
this particular movement,
then back to a truncated
recapitulation of the
fast music. The overall
feeling is of a
well-made, rather
conventional movement in
a contemporary
Spanish/Italian style.
Cassatt's painting, too,
is rather conventional.
II At the Opera
(1880) [Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston,
Massachusetts]
This painting is one of
Cassatt's most well known
works, and it hangs in
the Museum of Fine Arts
in Boston. The painting
shows a woman alone in a
box at the opera house,
completely dressed
(including gloves) and
looking through opera
glasses at someone or
something that is NOT on
the stage. Across the
auditorium from her, but
exactly at eye level, is
a gentleman with opera
glasses intently watching
her - though it is not
him that she's looking
at. It's an intriguing
picture. This
movement is far less
conventional than the
first movement, as the
painting is far less
conventional. The music
begins with a rapid,
Shostakovich-type
mini-overture lasting
less than a minute, based
on Mary's Theme. My
conjecture is that the
woman in the painting has
arrived late to the
opera, busily stumbling
into her box. What
happens next is a kind of
collage, a kind of
surrealistic overlaying
of two different
elements: the foreground
music, at first is a
direct quotation of
Soldier's Chorus from
Gounod's FAUST (an opera
Cassatt would certainly
have heard in the
brand-new Paris Opera
House at that time),
played by Violin II,
Viola, and Cello. This
music is played sul
ponticello in the melody
and col legno in the
marching accompaniment.
On top of this, the first
violin hovers at first on
a high harmonic, then
descends into a slow
melody, completely
separate from the Gounod.
It's as if the woman in
the painting is hearing
the opera onstage but is
not really interested in
it. Then the cello joins
the first violin in a
kind of love-duet (just
the two of them, at
first). This music isn't
at all Gounod-derived;
it's entirely from the
same scale patterns as
the first movement and
derives from Mary's Theme
and its scale. The music
stays in a kind of
dichotomy feeling,
usually
three-against-one, until
the end of the movement,
when another Gounod
melody, Valentin's aria
Avant de quitter ce lieux
reappears in a kind of
coda for all four
players. It ends
atmospherically and
emotionally disconnected,
however. The overall
feeling is a kind of
schizophrenic,
opera-inspired dream.
III Young Woman in
Green, Outdoors in the
Sun (1909) [Worcester Art
Museum, Massachusetts]
The painting, one
of Cassatt's last, is
very simple: just a
figure, looking sideways
out of the picture. The
colors are pastel and yet
bold - and the woman is
likewise very
self-assured and not in
the least demure. It is
eight minutes long, and
is all about melody -
three melodies, to be
exact (Young Woman,
Green, and Sunlight). No
angst, no choppy rhythms,
just ever-unfolding
melody and lush
harmonies. I quote one
other French composer
here, too: Debussy's song
Green, from Ariettes
Oubliees. 1909 would have
been Debussy's heyday in
Paris, and it makes
perfect sense musically
as well as visually to do
this. Mary Cassatt
lived her last several
years in near-total
blindness, and as she
lost visual acuity, her
work became less sharply
defined - something akin
to late water lilies of
Monet, who suffered
similar vision loss. My
idea of making this
movement entirely melodic
was compounded by having
each of the three
melodies appear twice,
once in a pure form, and
the second time in a more
diffuse setting. This
makes an interesting two
ways form:
A-B-C-A1-B1-C1.
String Quartet No.3
(Cassatt) is dedicated,
with great affection and
respect, to the Cassatt
String Quartet, whose
members have dedicated
themselves in large
measure to the furthering
of the contemporary
repertoire for
quartet. $53.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Rise Up Singing
Paroles et Accords [Partition] Hal Leonard
The Group Singing Songbook. By Various. Vocal. Size 9.5x12 inches. 281 pages. Pu...(+)
The Group Singing
Songbook. By Various.
Vocal. Size 9.5x12
inches. 281 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard.
(1)$39.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Wedding and Love Fake Book - 6th Edition Instruments en Do Hal Leonard
Over 500 Songs For All C Instruments. By Various. Fake Book. Love, Wedding. S...(+)
Over 500 Songs For All C
Instruments. By Various.
Fake Book. Love, Wedding.
Softcover. 456 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard
$35.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Gospel's Greatest
Ligne De Mélodie, Paroles et Accords [Fake Book] - Intermédiaire Hal Leonard
For voice and C instrument. Format: fakebook. With vocal melody, lyrics, chord n...(+)
For voice and C
instrument. Format:
fakebook. With vocal
melody, lyrics, chord
names and guitar chord
chart. Gospel and
worship. Series: Hal
Leonard Fake Books. 295
pages. 9x12 inches.
Published by Hal Leonard.
(26)$37.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
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