Chamber Music Cello, Flute, Viola 1, Viola 2, Violin

SKU: CF.MXE219

Composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Arranged by Robert Stallman. Sws. 56+16+16+16+16+12 pages. Carl Fischer Music #MXE219. Published by Carl Fischer Music (CF.MXE219).

ISBN 9781491157794. UPC: 680160916399. 9 x 12 inches.

Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about HoffmeisterAs awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterA3despite scruples about treading on hallowed groundA3I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak MozartAs language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialA3MozartAs friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such A!improvementsA(r)A3I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were MozartAs A!blueprintsA(r) of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to A!flesh outA(r) the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composerAs dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the A!rightA(r) one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my BognerAs CafA recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888A+-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as A!a kind of keyboard chamber music.A(r) Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: A!The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldA3the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.A(r) That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called A!the crowning work of its kindA(r) by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of MozartAs mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltoA3an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementAs declamatory A!opera chorusA(r) persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The A!love duetA(r) between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned A!duettingA(r) between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the AndanteAs middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8a time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the A!Swiss clockA(r) section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my A!newA(r) Mozart Quintet endeavorsA3and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. A3Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.
Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeisteris awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterodespite scruples about treading on hallowed groundoI grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozartis language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialoMozartis friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such iimprovementsioI always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozartis iblueprintsi of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to iflesh outi the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composeris dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the irighti one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogneris CafE recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888n1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as ia kind of keyboard chamber music.i Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: iThe F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldothe world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.i That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called ithe crowning work of its kindi by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozartis mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltooan F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementis declamatory iopera chorusi persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The ilove dueti between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned iduettingi between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andanteis middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8+time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the iSwiss clocki section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my inewi Mozart Quintet endeavorsoand most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. oCompiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.
Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister's awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter--despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground--I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart's language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material--Mozart's friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such improvements--I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart's blueprints of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to flesh out the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer's dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the right one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogner's Cafe recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as a kind of keyboard chamber music. Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world--the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music. That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinu Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called the crowning work of its kind by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart's mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto--an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement's declamatory opera chorus persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E<= Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The love duet between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned duetting between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante's middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the Swiss clock section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinu Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my new Mozart Quintet endeavors--and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. --Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.
PrefaceIn 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister’s awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter—despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground—I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart’s language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings.With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material—Mozartâ� ��™s friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such “improvementsâ€� �—I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart’s “blueprints” of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to “flesh out” the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer’s dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the “right” one then became a most absorbing study.On the eve of releasing my Bogner’s Café recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888–1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as “a kind of keyboard chamber music.” Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: “The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world—the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.” That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet.Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinů Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called “the crowning work of its kind” by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart’s mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue.The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto—an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement’s declamatory “opera chorus” persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro.The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E≤ Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The “love duet” between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned “duetting” between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante’s middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement.In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the “Swiss clock” section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability.I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinů Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my “new” Mozart Quintet endeavors—and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990.—Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallmanby Hannah Woods Stallman,February 2, 2020.

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.

Chamber Music Violin

SKU: CF.BF131

Composed by Roland Vamos. With Standard notation. 168 pages. Carl Fischer Music #BF131. Published by Carl Fischer Music (CF.BF131).

ISBN 9781491153765. UPC: 680160911264. 9 x 12 inches.

Inspired by Clarence Cameron White’s book The Violinist’s Daily Dozen, The Violinist’s Daily Sixteen is a collection of daily exercises compiled by Roland Vamos. Intended for student and professional violinists, the collection provides the performer with a variety of exercises for daily warm-ups. Mr. Vamos also focuses on developing dexterity and flexibility in the fingers and joints, the first and fourth fingers in particular. Each of the sixteen exercises is notated for each of the four strings, and Vamos recommends that the exercises be practiced as warm-ups, choosing a different string for each day of practice.Also included with the Daily Sixteen is a comprehensive set of studies for developing fluency with scales and arpeggios. Mr. Vamos’ unique methodology is to begin with major scales and arpeggios, followed by minor scales and arpeggios, all of which are notated in two, three and four octaves. Alternate fingers are provided, as well as a variety of slurred and mixed bowings using the three parts of the bow whenever feasible. It is a remarkably systematic approach to performing scales and arpeggios on the violin and will surely benefit students and professionals alike.
ForewordThis short hand-setting set of exercises was inspired by a book entitled The Violinist’s Daily Dozen, conceived by Clarence Cameron White, a prominent African-American violinist, composer and arranger who enjoyed the bulk of his career in the first half of the twentieth century.I have practiced this set of exercises since I was twelve years old. It has served me as a superb warm-up and hand setting tool. Over the years, I have found that there are some aspects of this warm-up routine that were not given sufficient attention or not addressed at all. Consequently, I have expanded the Daily Dozen to create a new work entitled The Violinist’s Daily Sixteen.I have also paid particular attention in this work as to how these exercises are to be practiced. In exercises one and two, I have indicated some notes to be played before the actual written exercises. This is to ensure that the fourth finger will be over the string in a position ready to strike even though it is not being used. Before playing exercises three, four, nine, ten, eleven and twelve, I have indicated silent fingers to be placed on the notes they would be playing if they were being used.I have replaced Mr. White’s grace notes with notes of specific value and have slowed down the exercises so that the first joint (the joint nearest the string) of each finger can move with flexibility and strength. At no time should the first joint buckle.In Mr. White’s version, the last exercise gave the first finger some very valuable backward extensions. In this exercise (number 14 in this book), I caution the student not to move the hand along with the first finger. The hand should remain in position while the first finger independently moves back and forth.It became obvious to me that if the first finger were given the opportunity to develop the dexterity that Mr. White’s twelfth exercise emphasizes, the fourth finger could benefit from an exercise that gives it a forward extension. Consequently, I added another exercise to create a Baker’s Dozen (thirteen).Several years later, I felt that the second and third fingers should also have an exercise to further develop their dexterity…hence exercise fourteen was added to create a “Vamos Dozen.”Because the first finger did not have sufficient practice in the development of the first joint in the original version, I have added two exercises to precede White’s fifth exercise. After re-working and re-numbering these exercises, I have come up with a total of sixteen exercises. It is my suggestion that these be practiced as a warm-up, choosing a different string each day.—Roland VamosEvanston, Illinois 2017 PrefaceScales are a means of teaching a person the fingerboard on his or her instrument. The fingers move across the strings and are required to make shifts, all in highly organized patterns. Scales and arpeggios are the foundation upon which our repertoire is built. Many scale books have been written; each one being organized in its own specific way. The Flesch Scale System has been a standard for many decades. It is very comprehensive and systematic. From the point of view of establishing similar patterns, it has one drawback: it is organized by starting with a major key, followed by its relative minor, going through the circle of fifths. I believe that it is more profitable to do only major scales with their arpeggios first, going up chromatically, and then follow them in a similar way with the minor scales. In using this approach, the similarities in fingerings between the various scales are more apparent. It is also profitable to have alternate fingerings whenever possible. My approach to scales and arpeggios includes a variety of slurred and mixed bowings using the three parts of the bow whenever feasible. These bowings are not all-inclusive. Whenever a particularly awkward bowing pattern is encountered in the repertoire, it can be practiced as an additional bowing variation in the scales and arpeggios.    I have chosen to introduce the three and four octave scales by teaching two octave scales across the strings in one position going up chromatically through seven positions; starting on the first, second, third, and finally fourth fingers in major and melodic minor.—Roland VamosEvanston, Illinois 2017.

Soprano, tenor, Knabensoprano, flugelhorn, mixed choir and chamber orchestra (Study Score)

SKU: HL.49018099

Boy Soprano, Soprano, Tenor, Flugelhorn, Mixed Chorus, and Chamber Orchestra Study Score. Composed by Harald Weiss. This edition: Paperback/Soft Cover. Sheet music. Study Score. Classical. Softcover. Composed 2008/2009. 188 pages. Duration 100'. Schott Music #ED20619. Published by Schott Music (HL.49018099).

ISBN 9790001158428. UPC: 884088567347. 8.25x11.75x0.457 inches. Latin - German.

On letting go(Concerning the selection of the texts) In the selection of the texts, I have allowed myself to be motivated and inspired by the concept of 'letting go'. This appears to me to be one of the essential aspects of dying, but also of life itself. We humans cling far too strongly to successful achievements, whether they have to do with material or ideal values, or relationships of all kinds. We cannot and do not want to let go, almost as if our life depended on it. As we will have to practise the art of letting go at the latest during our hour of death, perhaps we could already make a start on this while we are still alive. Tagore describes this farewell with very simple but strikingly vivid imagery: 'I will return the key of my door'. I have set this text for tenor solo. Here I imagine, and have correspondingly noted in a certain passage of the score, that the protagonist finds himself as though 'in an ocean' of voices in which he is however not drowning, but immersing himself in complete relaxation. The phenomenon of letting go is described even more simply and tersely in Psalm 90, verse 12: 'So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom'. This cannot be expressed more plainly.I have begun the requiem with a solo boy's voice singing the beginning of this psalm on a single note, the note A. This in effect says it all. The work comes full circle at the culmination with a repeat of the psalm which subsequently leads into a resplendent 'lux aeterna'. The intermediate texts of the Requiem which highlight the phenomenon of letting go in the widest spectrum of colours originate on the one hand from the Latin liturgy of the Messa da Requiem (In Paradisum, Libera me, Requiem aeternam, Mors stupebit) and on the other hand from poems by Joseph von Eichendorff, Hermann Hesse, Rabindranath Tagore and Rainer Maria Rilke.All texts have a distinctive positive element in common and view death as being an organic process within the great system of the universe, for example when Hermann Hesse writes: 'Entreiss dich, Seele, nun der Zeit, entreiss dich deinen Sorgen und mache dich zum Flug bereit in den ersehnten Morgen' ['Tear yourself way , o soul, from time, tear yourself away from your sorrows and prepare yourself to fly away into the long-awaited morning'] and later: 'Und die Seele unbewacht will in freien Flugen schweben, um im Zauberkreis der Nacht tief und tausendfach zu leben' ['And the unfettered soul strives to soar in free flight to live in the magic sphere of the night, deep and thousandfold']. Or Joseph von Eichendorff whose text evokes a distant song in his lines: 'Und meine Seele spannte weit ihre Flugel aus. Flog durch die stillen Lande, als floge sie nach Haus' ['And my soul spread its wings wide. Flew through the still country as if homeward bound.']Here a strong romantically tinged occidental resonance can be detected which is however also accompanied by a universal spirit going far beyond all cultures and religions. In the beginning was the sound Long before any sort of word or meaningful phrase was uttered by vocal chords, sounds, vibrations and tones already existed. This brings us back to the music. Both during my years of study and at subsequent periods, I had been an active participant in the world of contemporary music, both as percussionist and also as conductor and composer. My early scores had a somewhat adventurous appearance, filled with an abundance of small black dots: no rhythm could be too complicated, no register too extreme and no harmony too dissonant. I devoted myself intensely to the handling of different parameters which in serial music coexist in total equality: I also studied aleatory principles and so-called minimal music.I subsequently emigrated and took up residence in Spain from where I embarked on numerous travels over the years to India, Africa and South America. I spent repeated periods during this time as a resident in non-European countries. This meant that the currents of contemporary music swept past me vaguely and at a great distance. What I instead absorbed during this period were other completely new cultures in which I attempted to immerse myself as intensively as possible.I learned foreign languages and came into contact with musicians of all classes and styles who had a different cultural heritage than my own: I was intoxicated with the diversity of artistic potential.Nevertheless, the further I distanced myself from my own Western musical heritage, the more this returned insistently in my consciousness.The scene can be imagined of sitting somewhere in the middle of the Brazilian jungle surrounded by the wailing of Indians and out of the blue being provided with the opportunity to hear Beethoven's late string quartets: this can be a heart-wrenching experience, akin to an identity crisis. This type of experience can also be described as cathartic. Whatever the circumstances, my 'renewed' occupation with the 'old' country would not permit me to return to the point at which I as an audacious young student had maltreated the musical parameters of so-called contemporary music. A completely different approach would be necessary: an extremely careful approach, inching my way gradually back into the Western world: an approach which would welcome tradition back into the fold, attempt to unfurl the petals and gently infuse this tradition with a breath of contemporary life.Although I am aware that I will not unleash a revolution or scandal with this approach, I am nevertheless confident as, with the musical vocabulary of this Requiem, I am travelling in an orbit in which no ballast or complex structures will be transported or intimated: on the contrary, I have attempted to form the message of the texts in music with the naivety of a 'homecomer'. Harald WeissColonia de San PedroMarch 2009.

String Quartet

SKU: PR.16400222S

Composed by Dan Welcher. Full score (study). With Standard notation. Duration 11 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #164-00222S. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.16400222S).

UPC: 680160037841.

This work follows my Quartet No. 1 by five years. In terms of style and aesthetic aim, however, it seems light years away. Where the first work, a 28-minute, four-movement piece, took aim at cosmic conflicts and heroic resolutions, the present work is intended as a kind of divertissment. Harbor Music lasts a mere eleven minutes, is cast in a single movement with six sections, and should leave both performers and listeners with a feeling of good humor and affection.   The title comes from my experience as a guest in the magnificent city of Sydney, Australia. One of its most attractive features is its unique system of ferry boats: the city is laid out around a large, multi-channeled harbor, with destinations more easily approached by water than by land. Consequently, inhabitants of Sydney get around on small, people-friendly boats that come and go from the central docks at Circular Quay. During a week's visit in 1991, I must have boarded these boats at least a dozen times, always bound for a new location - the resort town of Manley, or the Zoo at Taronga Park, or the shopping district at Darling Harbour.   In casting about for a form for my second string quartet, a kind of loose rondo came to mind. Each new destination would be approached from the same starting-out point (although there are subtle variations in the repeating theme; it's always in a new key, and the texture is never the same). The result, I hope, is a sense of constant new information presented with introductory frames of a more familiar nature.   The embarkation theme, which begins the piece, is a sort of bi-tonal fanfare in which the violins are in G major and the viola and cello are in B-flat major. It is bold, eager, and forward-looking. The first voyage maintains this bi-tonality, beginning as a 9/8 due for second violin and viola in a kind of rocking motion -much as a boat produces when reaching the deeper water in the harbor. A sweet, nostalgic theme emerges over this rocking accompaniment. This music is developed somewhat, then transforms quickly into a much faster and lighter episode, filled with rising and falling scales (again, in differing keys). A scherzando interlude in short notes and changing meters provides contrast, and the episode ends with a reprise of the scales.   The second embarkation follows, this time in A major/C major. It leads quickly into a very warm and slow theme, in wide-leaping intervals for the viola. This section is interrupted twice by solo cadenzas for the cello, suggesting distant boat-horns in major thirds. The end of the episode becomes a transition, with boat-horns leading into the final appearance of the embarkation music, this time in trills and tremolos instead of sharply accented chords. The nostalgic theme of the first episode makes a final appearance, serving now as a coda. The rocking motion continues, in a lullaby fashion, leaving us drowsy and satisfied on our homeward journey.   Harbor Music was written for the Cavani Quartet, and is dedicated to Richard J. Bogomolny. Commissioned by his employees at First National Supermarkets as a gift, it represents a thank you from many of the people (including this composer) who have benefitted from his vision and generosity. An ardent advocate of chamber music (and a cellist himself), Mr. Bogomolny has for many years been Chairman of the Board of Chamber Music America. -- Dan Welcher.

Chamber Music harp

SKU: CF.H84

Composed by Marcel Tournier. Edited by Carl Swanson. Collection - Score. Carl Fischer Music #H84. Published by Carl Fischer Music (CF.H84).

ISBN 9781491165539. UPC: 680160924530.

Marce l Tournier (1879–1951) was one of the most important harpist/composers in the history of the harp. Over his long career, he added a significant catalogue of very beautiful works to the harp repertoire. Many of his solo works, almost one hundred, have been consistently in print since they were first published. But in recent years harpist Carl Swanson has discovered a treasure trove of pieces by Tournier heretofore unknown and unpublished. These include the Déchiffrages in this edition, as well as songs set for voice, harp, and string quartet, and ensemble arrangements of some of his most beloved works.All of the works that Carl Swanson found were in manuscript only. With the help of the great harpist Catherine Michel, he has put these pieces into playable form, and they are being published for the very first time. He and Catherine often had to re-notate passages to show clearly how they could be played, adding fingerings and musical nuances, tempos, pedals, and pedal diagrams.Tournier wrote these pieces when he was in his 20s, and before he became the impressionistic composer those familiar with his work know so well. They are written in the late nineteenth-century romantic style that was being taught at that time at the Paris Conservatory. They are beautiful short, intermediate level pieces by a first rate composer, and add much needed repertoire to that level of playing.
Marcel Tournier (1879–1951) was one of the most important harpist/composers in the history of the harp. He graduated from the Paris Conservatory with a first prize in harp in 1899. He also studied composition there and won a second prize in the prestigious Prix de Rome competition, as well as a first prize in the Rossini competition, another major composition competition of the day. From 1912 to 1948 he taught the harp class at the Paris Conservatory. But composition, and almost entirely, composition for the harp, was the main focus of his life. His published works, including many works for solo harp, a few for harp and other instruments, and several songs, number around one hundred pieces.In 2019, while researching Tournier for my edition MARCEL TOURNIER: 10 Pieces for Solo Harp, I discovered that there was a significant list of pieces by this composer that had never been published and were not included on any inventory of his music. Principal on this list were his déchiffrages (pronounced day-she-frahge, like the second syllable in the word garage).The word déchiffrage means sight-reading exercise, and that was their original purpose. Tournier numbered and dated these pieces, with dates ranging from 1900 to 1910, indicating that they were in all likelihood written for Alphonse Hasselmans’ class at the Paris Conservatory. Tournier was probably told how long to make each one, and how difficult. They range in length from two to four pages, with only one in the whole series extending to five, and from thirty to fifty-five measures, with only one extending to eight-five. The level of difficulty for the whole series is intermediate, with some at the easier end, and others at the middle or upper end.We don’t know if they were intended to test students trying to enter the harp class, or if they were used to test students in the class as they played their exams. The fact that they were never published means that students had to not only sight read them, but sight read them in manuscript form!I worked from digital images of the original manuscripts, which are in the private music library of a harpist in France. She had twenty-seven of these pieces, and this edition is the second in a series of three that will publish, for the first time, all of the ones that I have found thus far. The manuscripts themselves consist of little more than notes on the page: no pedals written in, no fingerings, few if any musical nuances and tempo markings, and no clear indication as to which hand plays which notes. These would have been difficult to sight read indeed! My collaborator Catherine Michel and I added musical nuances, fingerings, pedals and pedal diagrams, and tempo indications to put them into their current condition.At the time these were written, Tournier would have been in his twenties, having just graduated from the harp class himself (1899), and might still have been in the composition class. These are the earliest known pieces that he wrote, and they were written at the very beginning of a cultural revolution and upheaval in Paris that was to completely and profoundly alter musical composition. Tournier himself would eventually be caught up in this new way of composing. But not yet.All of the déchiffrages are written in the late romantic style that was being taught at that time at the Paris Conservatory. Each one is built on a clear musical idea, and the variety over the whole series makes them wonderful to listen to as well as to learn. They are also great technical lessons for intermediate level players.The obvious question is: Why didn’t Tournier publish these pieces, and why didn’t he list them on his own inventory of his music? Actually, four of them were published, with small changes, as his collection Four Preludes, Op. 16. These came from the ones that will be in volume three of this series from Carl Fischer. His first large piece, Theme and Variations, was published in 1908, and his two best known and frequently played pieces, Féerie and Au Matin, followed in 1912 and 1913 respectively. We can only speculate because there is so much still unknown about Tournier and about these unpublished pieces. He may have looked at them, fresh out of school as he was, as simply a way to make some quick money. The first several pieces that he did publish are much longer than any of the déchiffrages. So it could be that, because of their shorter length, as well as the earlier musical style that he was moving away from, he chose not to publish any more of them. We may never know the full story. But all these years later, more than a century after they were composed, we can listen to them for their own merits, and not measured against whatever else was going on at the time. The numbers on these pieces are the ones that Tournier assigned to them, and the gaps between some of the numbers suggest that there are perhaps thirty or more of these pieces still to be found, if they still exist. They will, in all likelihood, be found, as these were, in private collections of harp music, not in institutional libraries. We can only hope that more of them will be located in years to come.—Carl SwansonGlossary of French Musical TermsTournier was very precise about how he wanted his pieces played, and carefully communicated this with many musical indications. He used standard Italian words, but also used French words and phrases, and occasionally mixed both together. It is extremely important to observe and understand everything that he put on the page.Here is a list of the French words and phrases found in the pieces in this edition, with their translation.bien chanté well sung, melodiousdécidé firm, resolutediminu peu à peu becoming softer little by littleen diminuant becoming softeren riten. slowing downen se perdant dying awayGaiement gayly, lightlygracieusement gracefully, elegantlyLéger light, quickLent slowmarquez le chant emphasize the melodyModéré at a moderate tempopeu à peu animé more lively, little by littleplus lent slowerRetenu held backsans lenteur without slownesssans retinir without slowing downsec drily, abruptlysoutenu sustained, heldtrès arpegé very arpeggiatedTrès Modéré Very moderate tempoTrès peu retenu slightly held backTrès soutenu very sustainedun peu retenu slightly held back.

Chamber Music

SKU: PR.164002120

Composed by Dan Welcher. Set of Score and Parts. With Standard notation. 32+16+12+12+12 pages. Duration 16 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #164-00212. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.164002120).

UPC: 680160037582.

Works of chamber music including flute and strings are not nearly as numerous as those for clarinet, or even the oboe. Probably the reason for this is the less assertive, more pure tone the flute possesses - it can't compete for volume or range with the clarinet, except in its top octave, and the oboe's tone is more penetrating and easily discerned from within a string texture. Consequently, composers who have written for flute and strings have done so in lightweight divertimento works: compare, for instance, the delicate flute quartets of Mozart with his monumental quintet for clarinet and strings.   When Karl and Joan Karber approached me with the ideas of writing a work for flute and string trio, I originally thought it would be best to write a humorous, rather offhand piece - but a look at their repertoire (mostly comprised of smaller works of the Rococo period) convinced me that it was the last thing they needed. In spite of the challenge (or maybe because of it?), I determined to write a large work, and a serious work. Zephyrus (named for the God of the West Wind, in deference to the flute) is a three-movement work, with each movement cast in a very different form, but all three being built of the same twelve-note series. There is also a rhythmic motive and a pair of themes that appear in all three movements.   The first movement plays with the idea of contrast and persuasion. The flute, at the outset, is the hell-for-leather protagonist, charging and swooping around the strings - who seem oddly unconcerned by his passion. Indeed, they have a more somber song to sing - and as the movement unfolds, the flute becomes less and less active, while the strings become increasingly enlivened. By the midpoint, when all four instruments are finally in the same meter and the same tempo, the flute's energy has finally infected the other three players, and this energy does not let up until the movement's abrupt final cadence.   The second movement begins with a tag from the first - as if the energy left over was too great to simply stop. At length, though, a very poignant flute melody appears over an almost bluesy harmony in the strings. After this has been fully exposed, a slight increase in motion, marked gently rocking in triplets, features a theme-fragment from Leonard Bernstein's Symphony No. 2 (Kaddish). Bernstein died as I was writing this work, and it seemed quite natural to encourage what was already implicit in the music, and create an Elegy for L.B. The music rises and peaks, then in the recapitulation of the opening the Kaddish theme reappears, as the ensemble suggests a gentle song of sleep.   The final movement is a Rondo-Variations form, with the slight alteration of adding the main theme of the second movement in what would be the trio of the form. The ritornello theme is a kind of ethnic dance music, almost an allusion to the Klezmer ensembles of Eastern Europe. The successive episodes between the ritornelli are loosely organized variations on the basic theme, but always beginning with a metric modulation, a rhythmic changing of gears. The movement reaches and apex of speed and furious pulsing, then abruptly pirouttes, and finishes.   Zephyrus was written between April and November of 1990 in Austin, Aspen, and Honolulu, and is dedicated to Karl Kraber and The Chamber Soloists of Austin. --Dan Welcher.

Chamber Music Viola 1, Viola 2, Violin 1, Violin 2, Violoncello

SKU: PR.11441690S

String Quartet No. 3. Composed by Shulamit Ran. Sws. Contemporary. Full score. With Standard notation. Composed March 9 2013. 32 pages. Duration 23 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #114-41690S. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.11441690S).

UPC: 680160626021. 9 x 12 inches.

Ran's third string quartet was written for the Pacifica Quartet, who are featuring it in numerous performances from May 2014 through February 2016, across the country and abroad. Their blog page dedicated to the work also features the composer's notes, for more indepth insight. ...impassioned solos emerge from ominous quiet, and high arpeggios in the violins quiver alongside the earthy cello. Ms. Ran skillfully deploys these extremes of color, volume and pitch, yet the overall somewhat chilly impression is one of poise. -- Zachary Woolfe, The New York Times.
My third string quartet was composed at the invitation of the Pacifica Quartet, whose music-making I have come to know closely and admire hugely as resident artists at the University of Chicago.  Already in our early conversations Pacifica proposed that this quartet might, in some manner, refer to the visual arts as a point of germination.  Probing further, I found out that the quartet members had special interest in art created during the earlier part of the 20th century, perhaps between the two world wars.  It was my good fortune to have met, a short while later, while in residence at the American Academy in Rome in the fall of 2011, art conservationist Albert Albano who steered me to the work of Felix Nussbaum (1904-1944), a German-Jewish painter who, like so many others, perished in the Holocaust at a young age, and who left some powerful, deeply moving art that spoke to the life that was unraveling around him. The title of my string quartet takes its inspiration from a major exhibit devoted to art by German artists of the period of the Weimar Republic (1919-1933) titled “Glitter and Doom: German Portraits from the 1920s”, first shown at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2006-07.  Nussbaum would have been a bit too young to be included in this exhibit.  His most noteworthy art was created in the last very few years of his short life.  The exhibit’s evocative title, however, suggested to me the idea of “Glitter, Doom, Shards, Memory” as a way of framing a possible musical composition that would be an homage to his life and art, and to that of so many others like him during that era.  Knowing that their days were numbered, yet intent on leaving a mark, a legacy, a memory, their art is triumph of the human spirit over annihilation. Parallel to my wish to compose a string quartet that, typically for this genre, would exist as “pure music”, independent of a narrative, was my desire to effect an awareness in my listener of matters which are, to me, of great human concern.  To my mind there is no contradiction between the two goals.  As in several other works composed since 1969, this is my way of saying ‘do not forget’, something that, I believe, can be done through music with special power and poignancy.    The individual titles of the quartet’s four movements give an indication of some of the emotional strands this work explores. 1) “That which happened” (das was geschah) – is how the poet Paul Celan referred to the Shoah – the Holocaust.  These simple words served for me, in the first movement, as a metaphor for the way in which an “ordinary” life, with its daily flow and its sense of sweet normalcy, was shockingly, inhumanely, inexplicably shattered. 2) “Menace” is a shorter movement, mimicking a Scherzo.  It is also machine-like, incessant, with an occasional, recurring, waltz-like little tune – perhaps the chilling grimace we recognize from the executioner’s guillotine mask.  Like the death machine it alludes to, it gathers momentum as it goes, and is unstoppable. 3) â� ��If I must perish - do not let my paintings die”; these words are by Felix Nussbaum who, knowing what was ahead, nonetheless continued painting till his death in Auschwitz in 1944.  If the heart of the first movement is the shuddering interruption of life as we know it, the third movement tries to capture something of what I can only imagine to be the conflicting states of mind that would have made it possible, and essential, to continue to live and practice one’s art – bearing witness to the events.  Creating must have been, for Nussbaum and for so many others, a way of maintaining sanity, both a struggle and a catharsis – an act of defiance and salvation all at the same time. 4) “Shards, Memory” is a direct reference to my quartet’s title.  Only shards are left.  And memory.  The memory is of things large and small, of unspeakable tragedy, but also of the song and the dance, the smile, the hopes.  All things human.  As we remember, in the face of death’s silence, we restore dignity to those who are gone.—Shulamit Ran .

SKU: PR.16400212S

Composed by Dan Welcher. With Standard notation. Duration 16 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #164-00212S. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.16400212S).

UPC: 680160037605.

Works of chamber music including flute and strings are not nearly as numerous as those for clarinet, or even the oboe. Probably the reason for this is the less assertive, more pure tone the flute possesses - it can't compete for volume or range with the clarinet, except in its top octave, and the oboe's tone is more penetrating and easily discerned from within a string texture. Consequently, composers who have written for flute and strings have done so in lightweight divertimento works: compare, for instance, the delicate flute quartets of Mozart with his monumental quintet for clarinet and strings.   When Karl and Joan Karber approached me with the ideas of writing a work for flute and string trio, I originally thought it would be best to write a humorous, rather offhand piece - but a look at their repertoire (mostly comprised of smaller works of the Rococo period) convinced me that it was the last thing they needed. In spite of the challenge (or maybe because of it?), I determined to write a large work, and a serious work. Zephyrus (named for the God of the West Wind, in deference to the flute) is a three-movement work, with each movement cast in a very different form, but all three being built of the same twelve-note series. There is also a rhythmic motive and a pair of themes that appear in all three movements.   The first movement plays with the idea of contrast and persuasion. The flute, at the outset, is the hell-for-leather protagonist, charging and swooping around the strings - who seem oddly unconcerned by his passion. Indeed, they have a more somber song to sing - and as the movement unfolds, the flute becomes less and less active, while the strings become increasingly enlivened. By the midpoint, when all four instruments are finally in the same meter and the same tempo, the flute's energy has finally infected the other three players, and this energy does not let up until the movement's abrupt final cadence.   The second movement begins with a tag from the first - as if the energy left over was too great to simply stop. At length, though, a very poignant flute melody appears over an almost bluesy harmony in the strings. After this has been fully exposed, a slight increase in motion, marked gently rocking in triplets, features a theme-fragment from Leonard Bernstein's Symphony No. 2 (Kaddish). Bernstein died as I was writing this work, and it seemed quite natural to encourage what was already implicit in the music, and create an Elegy for L.B. The music rises and peaks, then in the recapitulation of the opening the Kaddish theme reappears, as the ensemble suggests a gentle song of sleep.   The final movement is a Rondo-Variations form, with the slight alteration of adding the main theme of the second movement in what would be the trio of the form. The ritornello theme is a kind of ethnic dance music, almost an allusion to the Klezmer ensembles of Eastern Europe. The successive episodes between the ritornelli are loosely organized variations on the basic theme, but always beginning with a metric modulation, a rhythmic changing of gears. The movement reaches and apex of speed and furious pulsing, then abruptly pirouttes, and finishes.   Zephyrus was written between April and November of 1990 in Austin, Aspen, and Honolulu, and is dedicated to Karl Kraber and The Chamber Soloists of Austin. --Dan Welcher.

Chamber Music Viola 1, Viola 2, Violin 1, Violin 2, Violoncello 1, Violoncello 2

SKU: PR.11442131S

Composed by Peter Schickele. Full score. Duration 26 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #114-42131S. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.11442131S).

UPC: 680160681006.

A lot of chamber music playing went on in Fargo, North Dakota during my teenage years. The participants included both high school friend - my brother, who plays viola, was an is an inveterate chamber music player - and members of parents' generation. The latter included not only professional musicians (the conductor of the Fargo-Moorhead Community Orchestra, who also played cello and was my first composition teacher, his wife, who was the orchestra's concert mistress, and others) but also people from various other walks of life. Although I don't play a string instrument, I was almost always in attendance, with score in hand. (One summer, all the young cellists we played with went to the Interlochen Music Camp, so I got to play the cello parts on the bassoon.) Mostly it was string quartets that were played, but one of the larger pieces I remember being done more than once was the Brahms Sextet in G Major, and I think that the idea for utilizing that combination had been lurking in the back of my mind since then. In the middle 1980's, ideas for a string sextet began appearing in my sketchbooks; one movement (the fourth) was actually completed in one of the sketchbooks. But without a deadline, it's hard for me to finish a major work, since there are always other pieces (with deadlines) waiting to be completed. So when the Composers Showcase at Lincoln Center asked me to put together a retrospective of my work, I knew I wanted to have a premiere on the program, and May 7, 1990 became the deadline that I got the piece done. The work is in six movements, with a symmetrical key pattern; the movements range from the very dramatic to the very easy-going. I had contacted the Lark Quartet, who had commissioned my String Quartet No.2, about forming the core of the sextet. Unfortunately, one of the Larks had a scheduling conflict, but the other three rounded up three more players, and the six of them gave the piece a rousing performance, in spite of the limited rehearsal time. The players were Eva Gruesser, Genovia Cummins, Anna Kruger, Mary Hamman, Astrid Schween and Julia Lichten.
A lot of chamber music playing went on in Fargo, North Dakota during my teenage years. The participants included both high school friend – my brother, who plays viola, was an is an inveterate chamber music player – and members of parents’ generation. The latter included not only professional musicians (the conductor of the Fargo-Moorhead Community Orchestra, who also played cello and was my first composition teacher, his wife, who was the orchestra’s concert mistress, and others) but also people from various other walks of life. Although I don’t play a string instrument, I was almost always in attendance, with score in hand. (One summer, all the young cellists we played with went to the Interlochen Music Camp, so I got to play the cello parts on the bassoon.)Mostly it was string quartets that were played, but one of the larger pieces I remember being done more than once was the Brahms Sextet in G Major, and I think that the idea for utilizing that combination had been lurking in the back of my mind since then. In the middle 1980’s, ideas for a string sextet began appearing in my sketchbooks; one movement (the fourth) was actually completed in one of the sketchbooks. But without a deadline, it’s hard for me to finish a major work, since there are always other pieces (with deadlines) waiting to be completed. So when the Composers Showcase at Lincoln Center asked me to put together a retrospective of my work, I knew I wanted to have a premiere on the program, and May 7, 1990 became the deadline that I got the piece done.The work is in six movements, with a symmetrical key pattern; the movements range from the very dramatic to the very easy-going.I had contacted the Lark Quartet, who had commissioned my String Quartet No.2, about forming the core of the sextet. Unfortunately, one of the Larks had a scheduling conflict, but the other three rounded up three more players, and the six of them gave the piece a rousing performance, in spite of the limited rehearsal time. The players were Eva Gruesser, Genovia Cummins, Anna Kruger, Mary Hamman, Astrid Schween and Julia Lichten.

Chamber Music Viola 1, Viola 2, Violin 1, Violin 2, Violoncello 1, Violoncello 2

SKU: PR.114421310

Composed by Peter Schickele. Set of Score and Parts. 74+21+20+22+19+21+19 pages. Duration 26 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #114-42131. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.114421310).

UPC: 680160680993.

A lot of chamber music playing went on in Fargo, North Dakota during my teenage years. The participants included both high school friend - my brother, who plays viola, was an is an inveterate chamber music player - and members of parents' generation. The latter included not only professional musicians (the conductor of the Fargo-Moorhead Community Orchestra, who also played cello and was my first composition teacher, his wife, who was the orchestra's concert mistress, and others) but also people from various other walks of life. Although I don't play a string instrument, I was almost always in attendance, with score in hand. (One summer, all the young cellists we played with went to the Interlochen Music Camp, so I got to play the cello parts on the bassoon.) Mostly it was string quartets that were played, but one of the larger pieces I remember being done more than once was the Brahms Sextet in G Major, and I think that the idea for utilizing that combination had been lurking in the back of my mind since then. In the middle 1980's, ideas for a string sextet began appearing in my sketchbooks; one movement (the fourth) was actually completed in one of the sketchbooks. But without a deadline, it's hard for me to finish a major work, since there are always other pieces (with deadlines) waiting to be completed. So when the Composers Showcase at Lincoln Center asked me to put together a retrospective of my work, I knew I wanted to have a premiere on the program, and May 7, 1990 became the deadline that I got the piece done. The work is in six movements, with a symmetrical key pattern; the movements range from the very dramatic to the very easy-going. I had contacted the Lark Quartet, who had commissioned my String Quartet No.2, about forming the core of the sextet. Unfortunately, one of the Larks had a scheduling conflict, but the other three rounded up three more players, and the six of them gave the piece a rousing performance, in spite of the limited rehearsal time. The players were Eva Gruesser, Genovia Cummins, Anna Kruger, Mary Hamman, Astrid Schween and Julia Lichten.
A lot of chamber music playing went on in Fargo, North Dakota during my teenage years. The participants included both high school friend – my brother, who plays viola, was an is an inveterate chamber music player – and members of parents’ generation. The latter included not only professional musicians (the conductor of the Fargo-Moorhead Community Orchestra, who also played cello and was my first composition teacher, his wife, who was the orchestra’s concert mistress, and others) but also people from various other walks of life. Although I don’t play a string instrument, I was almost always in attendance, with score in hand. (One summer, all the young cellists we played with went to the Interlochen Music Camp, so I got to play the cello parts on the bassoon.)Mostly it was string quartets that were played, but one of the larger pieces I remember being done more than once was the Brahms Sextet in G Major, and I think that the idea for utilizing that combination had been lurking in the back of my mind since then. In the middle 1980’s, ideas for a string sextet began appearing in my sketchbooks; one movement (the fourth) was actually completed in one of the sketchbooks. But without a deadline, it’s hard for me to finish a major work, since there are always other pieces (with deadlines) waiting to be completed. So when the Composers Showcase at Lincoln Center asked me to put together a retrospective of my work, I knew I wanted to have a premiere on the program, and May 7, 1990 became the deadline that I got the piece done.The work is in six movements, with a symmetrical key pattern; the movements range from the very dramatic to the very easy-going.I had contacted the Lark Quartet, who had commissioned my String Quartet No.2, about forming the core of the sextet. Unfortunately, one of the Larks had a scheduling conflict, but the other three rounded up three more players, and the six of them gave the piece a rousing performance, in spite of the limited rehearsal time. The players were Eva Gruesser, Genovia Cummins, Anna Kruger, Mary Hamman, Astrid Schween and Julia Lichten.

Chamber Music String Quartet

SKU: PR.114405050

Composed by John Downey. Set of Score and Parts. With Standard notation. 53 pages. Duration 25 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #114-40505. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.114405050).

UPC: 680160008377. 11 x 14 inches.

Although structurally it subdivides into five movements, the entire quartet emerges as one vast continuum. There are no formal breaks between movements. However, certain musical signposts can be discerned, associated with each of the movements' terminations and new beginnings. The opening movement, The Nostalgia of Clanging Bell Sonorities, begins floating on recurrent Bbs whose soft rhythmic flow slowly puts into motion strong undercurrents suggestive of the latent power of water... After several suggestions of tolling bells, the movement gradually fades into hushed tones of veiled and very distant sonorities. It uses a unique efffect, for the first time in a musical context, conveyed through the use of extra heavy practice mutes. The second movement, The Spill of Water , disengages itself from the first through its distinct contrast in tempo. Water moves fast, and when it splashes, it tends to run wildly. In this case, it happens to be bubbly water that gushes forth bodly... smashing across rocky shorlines. So, too, the music attempts to conjure such moods. At the end of this movement, a cello cadenza emerges, introducing an introspective type of melodicism. The third movement, The Poignancy of Memory, contains many silences as it tries to convey memory through fragmented remembrances much like often occur in our dream state. Progressing through several slowly building images, it gradually works itself into juxtaposition of musical images. Towards the movement's end, high harmonics are sounding in all four instruments while left hand pizzicato notes in the cello pluch the last remembrances of this central core. Almost imperceptibly, the viola assumes leadership as it dissolves into: The fourth movement, The Fluidity of Motion, which has mostly the viola, but also the cello, articulating lyrical statements against the sheets of sound conjured up by the two violins playing a flood of swirling figures, evokes a kind of static motion in spae. Here, the virtually imperceptible manner in which this hushed whisper continues incessantly, can suggest the potential fluidity with which movement may inch forward... Later into the fourth movement , two fairly extended solos by the second and then the first violins, lead to a kind of spontaneous dialogue among the four instrumentalists. Eventually, this musical conversation gets caught up in: The fifth movement's The Rush of Time, which opens with a hushed flurry of speed, precipitates the Finale. It generates, at first slowly, but then very swiftly, whole shifts of rhythmic fields that initially seem to conflict with one another. Ultimately, this use of 'psycho-rhythmics contributes to an on-rush of motion and time. Rhythmic changes are, at times, abruptly precipitated with but little or no preparation creating a kind of inevitability in forward thrust, while the movement rushes forward with a feeling of gradual and continuous acceleration. It gathers density as more and more notes are piled progressively upon successive beats. The attempt is to spark tension and ignite excitement by means of frenetic confrontations of dissimilitudes. Ultimately - with the help of time - these polarities centrifically spin out their own destinies with their accompanying fall-out and own inevitable resolutions.

Chamber Music String Quartet

SKU: PR.11440505S

Composed by John Downey. Full score. With Standard notation. 53 pages. Duration 25 minutes. Theodore Presser Company #114-40505S. Published by Theodore Presser Company (PR.11440505S).

UPC: 680160008391. 11 x 14 inches.

Although structurally it subdivides into five movements, the entire quartet emerges as one vast continuum. There are no formal breaks between movements. However, certain musical signposts can be discerned, associated with each of the movements' terminations and new beginnings. The opening movement, The Nostalgia of Clanging Bell Sonorities, begins floating on recurrent Bbs whose soft rhythmic flow slowly puts into motion strong undercurrents suggestive of the latent power of water... After several suggestions of tolling bells, the movement gradually fades into hushed tones of veiled and very distant sonorities. It uses a unique effect, for the first time in a musical context, conveyed through the use of extra heavy practice mutes. The second movement, The Spill of Water, disengages itself from the first through its distinct contrast in tempo. Water moves fast, and when it splashes, it tends to run wildly. In this case, it happens to be bubbly water that gushes forth bodly... smashing across rocky shorelines. So, too, the music attempts to conjure such moods. At the end of this movement, a cello cadenza emerges, introducing an introspective type of melodicism. The third movement, The Poignancy of Memory, contains many silences as it tries to convey memory through fragmented remembrances much like often occur in our dream state. Progressing through several slowly building images, it gradually works itself into juxtaposition of musical images. Towards the movement's end, high harmonics are sounding in all four instruments while left hand pizzicato notes in the cello pluck the last remembrances of this central core. Almost imperceptibly, the viola assumes leadership as it dissolves into: The fourth movement, The Fluidity of Motion, which has mostly the viola, but also the cello, articulating lyrical statements against sheets of sound conjured up by the two violins playing a flood of swirling figures, evokes a kind of static motion in space. Here , the virtually imperceptible manner in which this hushed whisper continues incessantly, can suggest the potential fluidity with which movement may inch forward... Later into the fourth movement, two fairly extended solos by the second and then the first violins, lead to a kind of spontaneous dialogue amont the four instrumentalists. Eventually, this musical conversation gets caught up in: The fifth movement's The Rush of Time, which opens with a hushed flurry of speed, precipitates the Finale. It generates, at first slowly, but then very swiftly, whole shifts of rhythmic fields that initially seem to conflict with one another. Ultimately, this use of psycho-rhythmics contributes to an on-rush seem of motion and time. Rhythmic changes are, at times, abruptly precipitated with but little or no preparation creating a kind of inevitability in forward thrust, while the movement rushes forward with a feeling of gradual and continuous acceleration. It gathers density as more and more notes are piled progressively upon successive beats. The attempt is to spark tension and ignite excitement by means of frenetic confrontations of dissimilitudes. Ultimately - with the help of time - these polarities centrifically spin out their own destinies with their accompanying fall-out and own inevitable resolutions.

(Violin). For Violin. Book; CD; Play-Along; String Series. Ultimate Pop Instrumental Solos Series. Movie. Grade 2; Grade 3. 84 pages. Published by Alfred Music Publishing

(26 Trios That Can Be Played by Any Combination of String Instruments). By Doris Gazda. Arranged by Doris Gazda. For Violin. Book. 48 pages. Published by Carl Fischer