In All Major and Minor Keys. Composed by J. B. Albert. Edited by Julie DeRoche...(+)
In All Major and Minor
Keys.
Composed by J. B. Albert.
Edited by Julie DeRoche.
Book.
With Standard notation.
32
pages. Carl Fischer Music
#O99X. Published by Carl
Fischer Music
Edited by Amy Appleby. Collection and examples CD for easy solo piano. Over 200 ...(+)
Edited by Amy Appleby.
Collection and examples
CD for easy solo piano.
Over 200 best-loved
Christian hymns that have
inspired praise and
worship for over four
centuries. Series: Piano
Treasury Series. 392
pages. Published by Music
Sales.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Scott Joplin Reconsidered. Composed by Scott Joplin (1868-1917). Edited by L...(+)
Scott Joplin
Reconsidered.
Composed by Scott Joplin
(1868-1917). Edited by
Lara
Downes. Collection.
Theodore
Presser Company
#440-40028.
Published by Theodore
Presser
Company
Théorie de la musique [Livre d'activité] - Facile Theory Time Partners
By Heather Rathnau. Edited by Heather Rathnau. For General Music Theory. This ed...(+)
By Heather Rathnau.
Edited by Heather
Rathnau. For General
Music Theory. This
edition: all instruments.
Music theory for a
student that has
completed the Grade Three
workbook; Also a great
level to start an older
beginner in 7th or 8th
grade. Focuses on the
keys of C, G, D, A, E and
F Major and introduces
the 8th note. Level:
Early Intermediate level.
Workbook. 60 pages pages.
Published by Theory Time
Partners.
by Bret Willmott. For all guitars. Complete. All styles. Level: Intermediate-Adv...(+)
by Bret Willmott. For all
guitars. Complete. All
styles. Level:
Intermediate-Advanced.
Book. Theory and harmony.
Size 8.75x11.75. 248
pages. Published by Mel
Bay Pub., Inc.
Written by Mark Levine. Instructional book (spiral bound). With instructional te...(+)
Written by Mark Levine.
Instructional book
(spiral bound). With
instructional text,
musical examples and
black and white photos.
522 pages. Published by
Sher Music Company.
Chamber Music Cornet SKU: CF.O88X Composed by Narcisse Bousquet. Edited b...(+)
Chamber Music Cornet
SKU: CF.O88X
Composed by Narcisse
Bousquet. Edited by Joey
Tartell Edwin Franko
Goldman. SWS. Softcover.
With Standard notation.
44 pages. Carl Fischer
Music #O88X. Published by
Carl Fischer Music
(CF.O88X).
ISBN
9781491153406. UPC:
680160910908. 9 X 12
inches.
These
studies are a staple of
the advanced trumpet
method repertoire. Each
etude is an exploration
of a wide variety of
registers, articulations
and tonalities. While
going through these 36
etudes the trumpeter will
develop an even sound in
all registers while
tackling the musical and
melodic challenges that
lie
within. IntroductionTi
ps on Musical
PracticeStarting a new
study can be
overwhelming. Using Etude
No. 1, here’s an
example of how to
approach working on these
etudes with both
musicality and technique
in mind.Bousquet’s
first study can be broken
down into three large
musical sections:Section
1: from the beginning to
the downbeat of m.
26.Section 2: from the
upbeat of 2 in m. 26 to
the downbeat of m.
51.Section 3: from the
downbeat of m. 51 to the
end.Each one of those
sections can be broken
down into two smaller
sections:Section 1a: from
the beginning to the
downbeat of m. 16.Section
1b: from the downbeat of
m. 16 to the downbeat of
m. 26.Section 2a: from
the upbeat of 2 in m. 26
to the end of m.
35.Section 2b: from m. 36
to the downbeat of m.
51.Section 3a: from the
downbeat of m. 51 to the
downbeat of m. 59.Section
3b: from the downbeat of
m. 59 to the end.To get
started playing, choose a
slow tempo that allows
you to play Section 1 all
the way through without
stopping. If that is
problematic, just play
through 1a.Remember to
focus on the music.
Section 1a is light,
moving in four-measure
phrases to the ninth
measure, where it
cadences in G. From
there, retain the
lightness through the
arpeggiation that
concludes with the trill
that brings an arrival
point at Section 1b. Here
the style changes
completely, alternating
two measures of fluid,
connected sixteenth notes
with two measures of
scalar staccato
sixteenths before finally
cadencing on the downbeat
of m. 26.Section 2 begins
with a melodic line of
eighth notes, punctuated
by sixteenths in the
third full measure before
returning to the original
line for only a measure
before driving forward
with a flourish to finish
Section 2a. Section 2b
starts back in C with
four-measure phrases in
which the line moves up
for two measures, then
down for two measures,
ending in G. The last
seven measures of Section
2 stay light as they work
their way back to
C.Section 3 is very
exciting, starting with a
fiery cornet solo-like
passage in 3a. 3b brings
the piece to a dramatic
conclusion outlining C
major for the first four
measures before
arpeggiating C major and
G dominant for two
measures, finally
finishing with the
C-major scale.The next
step is to isolate any of
the parts that proved
troublesome. Examples
could include missed
notes or figuring out
where to breathe. Once
you have practiced the
troublesome sections in
isolation, play the
section all the way
through without stopping
again. Even if there are
still problems, you are
now practicing in a way
that is preparing you to
perform musically.The
next day, play through
Section 1 again, at a
tempo that allows you to
do this without stopping.
Now go on to Section 2,
and follow the same three
steps:Play all the way
through, at a tempo that
allows you to do so
without stopping,Isolate
and practice the
troublesome passages,
thenPlay all the way
through, at a tempo that
allows you to do so
without stopping.Now play
from the beginning to the
end of Section 2.The next
day, play Section 1. Now
play Section 2. Then play
Section 3 and apply the
same three steps outlined
above.Now play the whole
study. At this point you
have spent time on each
section, making musical
decisions and correcting
mistakes. Increase the
tempo as you gain
confidence and control of
the material. As you work
towards performing the
entire study as a piece
of music, record yourself
playing the entire study
as a performance each
day. Review the
recordings to reveal what
still needs work. Be
honest with yourself!
When you are happy with
the recording of your
performance, it’s
time to move on to the
next study.About the
Goldman PrefaceThese
studies will be an
excellent practice,
especially for the lower
register of the Cornet,
which is somewhat
neglected in other
instruction books. It is
recommended that the
pupil should practice one
of this series of Studies
now and then to repose
his lips, and acquire
facility in difficult
fingering.— Edwin
Franko GoldmanIn his
original preface, Edwin
Franko Goldman is
absolutely correct that
these studies are
excellent practice and
will help with the
dexterity demanded of
today’s player.
Although the low register
is certainly explored
throughout the book, it
does not appear to be the
focus of these studies.
There are many books
available now that
concentrate on the low
register. The suggested
fingerings have been
removed. Using alternate
fingerings was more
common to cornet players
to aid in the fluidity of
a passage. This practice
is not nearly as common
today, especially with
trumpet players, as the
difference in timbre
caused by the alternate
fingerings is disruptive
to the musical line.
Published for cornet, as
it was the solo
instrument of choice in
the 1920s, these etudes
are just as useful to
today’s trumpet
player. When playing
these studies on trumpet,
the performer should
strive for a fluid line
while maintaining a full
and clear sound. Because
of the musicianship and
technique demanded, this
book remains as useful
today as it has ever
been.— Joey
TartellAbout Narcisse
Bousquet and the 36
EtudesNarcisse Bousquet
(c. 1800–1869) was
French by birth, active
as a composer, editor and
arranger in both France
and England in the early
nineteenth century.
Bousquet was respected as
an accomplished performer
of the French flageolet,
a high-pitched woodwind
instrument much like a
recorder, although later
outfitted with the Boehm
key system like the
modern flute. Although
obsolete in modern times,
the instrument once
enjoyed great popularity
with a variety of
composers and performers,
both amateur and
professional. Purcell and
Handel composed for the
instrument, and Berlioz
was purportedly an
accomplished amateur
performer of the
flageolet. The Scottish
author Robert Louis
Stevenson, likewise, was
a proficient performer of
the instrument and
composed a number of
pieces for it.Little is
known today of
Bousquet’s life.
He composed a large
variety of music,
including works
specifically for the
flageolet, which were
widely appreciated in
their day. The 36 Etudes
for flageolet are
undoubtedly the most well
known of his works.
Published in 1851, the
Etudes explore a variety
of techniques, such as
scales, arpeggios,
ornamentation, breath
control and expressive
playing, and their
technically demanding
writing confirms
Bousquet’s prowess
as a flageolet performer.
However, the date of the
arrangement of the etudes
for cornet and their
arranger remain
speculative. Edwin Franko
Goldman is credited as
the arranger of the 1890
publication by Carl
Fischer, although Goldman
would have been only
twelve years old at the
time; his work on these
pieces surely came at a
later time. Bousquet
himself may have arranged
these pieces for cornet
at the request of an
accomplished cornet
player at some point
after their
publication.
Théorie de la musique [Livre d'activité] - Facile Theory Time Partners
By Heather Rathnau. Edited by Heather Rathnau. For General Music Theory. This ed...(+)
By Heather Rathnau.
Edited by Heather
Rathnau. For General
Music Theory. This
edition: all instruments.
Music theory for a
student that has
completed the Grade Four
workbook; focuses on key
signatures through 5
sharps and flats; lots of
rhythm drill emphasizing
16th notes and dotted
quarter notes. Level:
Early Intermediate level.
Workbook. 63 pages pages.
Published by Theory Time
Partners.