Ligne De Mélodie, Paroles et Accords [Fake Book] - Facile Hal Leonard
For voice and C instrument. Format: fakebook (spiral bound). With vocal melody, ...(+)
For voice and C
instrument. Format:
fakebook (spiral bound).
With vocal melody,
lyrics, piano
accompaniment, chord
names and leadsheet
notation. Hymn. Series:
Hal Leonard Fake Books.
494 pages. 9x12 inches.
Published by Hal Leonard.
(Words and Chords to Nearly 1200 Songs 9x12 Spiral Bound). Edited by Annie Patte...(+)
(Words and Chords to
Nearly 1200 Songs 9x12
Spiral Bound). Edited by
Annie Patterson and Peter
Blood. For Vocal. Vocal.
Softcover. 304 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard
(Words and Chords to Nearly 1200 Songs Spiral-Bound). Edited by Annie Patterson ...(+)
(Words and Chords to
Nearly 1200 Songs
Spiral-Bound). Edited by
Annie Patterson and Peter
Blood. For Vocal. Vocal.
Softcover. 304 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard
Fakebook (spiral bound) for voice and C instrument. With vocal melody, lyrics, c...(+)
Fakebook (spiral bound)
for voice and C
instrument. With vocal
melody, lyrics, chord
names, leadsheet notation
and guitar chord chart.
Series: Hal Leonard Fake
Books. 813 pages.
Published by Hal Leonard.
(Easy Piano). Arranged by Dan Coates. For Piano. This edition: Easy Piano. B...(+)
(Easy Piano). Arranged by
Dan
Coates. For Piano. This
edition: Easy Piano.
Book;
Piano - Easy Piano
Collection.
The Giant Book of Sheet
Music.
Movie; TV. Easy Piano.
168
pages. Published by
Alfred
Music
Chamber Music String Quartet SKU: PR.114410380 Composed by Lowell Lieberm...(+)
Chamber Music String
Quartet
SKU:
PR.114410380
Composed
by Lowell Liebermann.
Saddle, Tape Junction.
Set of Score and Parts.
With Standard notation.
Composed 1998. Opus 60.
48 + 92 pages. Duration
30 minutes. Theodore
Presser Company
#114-41038. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(PR.114410380).
UPC:
680160015160. 9.5 x 13
inches.
My second
String Quartet was
written twenty years
after the first, Opus 4
from 1978. The First
Quartet is an obsessively
contrapuntal work in one
movement, which was no
doubt influenced by my
studies with David
Diamond. I had always
intended to return to the
medium once I left the
astringency of my earlier
style, but it was only
when the National
Federation of Music Clubs
commissioned a major
chamber work, with
unspecified
instrumentation, to
celebrate their 100th
Anniversary that I was
enabled to do so. The
Second Quartet is in four
movements: Moderato,
Allegro isterico, an
Andante theme with 11
variations, and the
closing Allegro, which
then returns to the tempo
of the first movement. An
audience member at the
premiere told me that she
heard echoes of recent
tragic events such as the
Oklahoma bombing in this
work. While I had no such
programmatic intent while
writing the quartet, it
was not an entirely
incorrect assessment of
the work's intended
emotional impact. The
quartet is pervaded by a
sense of seriousness,
even mournfulness. The
second movement's scherzo
is an aggressively
animated piece of musical
machinery. The third
movement's Variations
unfold into a greater
variety of moods than the
others - but the moments
of lyricism are countered
by aggressive or ironic
outbursts. The final
movement's attempt at
triumph quickly subsides
into a return of the
first movement, before
being transformed onto a
sense of resignation and
acceptance as the
chromaticism of the
opening theme is
transformed into a pure
and diatonic C-Major. The
work received its world
premiere by the Shanghai
Quartet at the 100th
Anniversary Congress of
the National Federation
of Music Clubs at the
Congress Hotel in Chicago
on August 19th
1998. My second String
Quartet was written
twenty years after the
first, Opus 4 from
1978. The First
Quartet is an obsessively
contrapuntal work in one
movement, which was no
doubt influenced by my
studies with David
Diamond. I had always
intended to return to the
medium once I left the
astringency of my earlier
style, but it was only
when the National
Federation of Music Clubs
commissioned a major
chamber work, with
unspecified
instrumentation, to
celebrate their 100th
Anniversary that I was
enabled to do so.The
Second Quartet is in four
movements:Â Moderato,
Allegro isterico, an
Andante theme with 11
variations, and the
closing Allegro, which
then returns to the tempo
of the first movement.An
audience member at the
premiere told me that she
heard echoes of recent
tragic events such as the
Oklahoma bombing in this
work. While I had no
such programmatic intent
while writing the
quartet, it was not an
entirely incorrect
assessment of the
work’s intended
emotional impact. The
quartet is pervaded by a
sense of seriousness,
even mournfulness.Â
The second
movement’s scherzo
is an aggressively
animated piece of musical
machinery. The third
movement’s
Variations unfold into a
greater variety of moods
than the others –
but the moments of
lyricism are countered by
aggressive or ironic
outbursts. The final
movement’s attempt
at triumph quickly
subsides into a return of
the first movement,
before being transformed
onto a sense of
resignation and
acceptance as the
chromaticism of the
opening theme is
transformed into a pure
and diatonic C-Major.The
work received its world
premiere by the Shanghai
Quartet at the 100th
Anniversary Congress of
the National Federation
of Music Clubs at the
Congress Hotel in Chicago
on August 19th 1998.
Performed by Pat Metheny. For guitar (no tablature). Format: fake book. With lea...(+)
Performed by Pat Metheny.
For guitar (no
tablature). Format: fake
book. With leadsheet
notation and chord names.
Jazz and jazz fusion. 448
pages. 9x12 inches.
Published by Hal Leonard.
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.
Band Concert Band SKU: PR.465000130 For Large Wind Ensemble. Compo...(+)
Band Concert Band
SKU:
PR.465000130
For
Large Wind Ensemble.
Composed by Dan Welcher.
Sws. Contemporary. Full
score. With Standard
notation. Composed 2010.
Duration 14 minutes.
Theodore Presser Company
#465-00013. Published by
Theodore Presser Company
(PR.465000130).
ISBN
9781598064070. UPC:
680160600144. 9x12
inches.
Following a
celebrated series of wind
ensemble tone poems about
national parks in the
American West, Dan
Welcher’s Upriver
celebrates the Lewis &
Clark Expedition from the
Missouri River to
Oregon’s Columbia
Gorge, following the
Louisiana Purchase of
1803. Welcher’s
imaginative textures and
inventiveness are freshly
modern, evoking our
American heritage,
including references to
Shenandoah and other folk
songs known to have been
sung on the expedition.
For advanced players.
Duration:
14’. In 1803,
President Thomas
Jefferson sent Meriwether
Lewis and William
Clark’s Corps of
Discovery to find a water
route to the Pacific and
explore the uncharted
West. He believed woolly
mammoths, erupting
volcanoes, and mountains
of pure salt awaited
them. What they found was
no less mind-boggling:
some 300 species unknown
to science, nearly 50
Indian tribes, and the
Rockies.Ihave been a
student of the Lewis and
Clark expedition, which
Thomas Jefferson called
the “Voyage of
Discovery,†for as
long as I can remember.
This astonishing journey,
lasting more than
two-and-a-half years,
began and ended in St.
Louis, Missouri —
and took the travelers up
more than a few rivers in
their quest to find the
Northwest Passage to the
Pacific Ocean. In an age
without speedy
communication, this was
akin to space travel out
of radio range in our own
time: no one knew if,
indeed, the party had
even survived the voyage
for more than a year.
Most of them were
soldiers. A few were
French-Canadian voyageurs
— hired trappers
and explorers, who were
fluent in French (spoken
extensively in the
region, due to earlier
explorers from France)
and in some of the Indian
languages they might
encounter. One of the
voyageurs, a man named
Pierre Cruzatte, also
happened to be a
better-than-average
fiddle player. In many
respects, the travelers
were completely on their
own for supplies and
survival, yet,
incredibly, only one of
them died during the
voyage. Jefferson had
outfitted them with food,
weapons, medicine, and
clothing — and
along with other
trinkets, a box of 200
jaw harps to be used in
trading with the Indians.
Their trip was long,
perilous to the point of
near catastrophe, and
arduous. The dream of a
Northwest Passage proved
ephemeral, but the
northwestern quarter of
the continent had finally
been explored, mapped,
and described to an
anxious world. When the
party returned to St.
Louis in 1806, and with
the Louisiana Purchase
now part of the United
States, they were greeted
as national heroes.Ihave
written a sizeable number
of works for wind
ensemble that draw their
inspiration from the
monumental spaces found
in the American West.
Four of them (Arches, The
Yellowstone Fires,
Glacier, and Zion) take
their names, and in large
part their being, from
actual national parks in
Utah, Wyoming, and
Montana. But Upriver,
although it found its
voice (and its finale) in
the magnificent Columbia
Gorge in Oregon, is about
a much larger region.
This piece, like its
brother works about the
national parks,
doesn’t try to
tell a story. Instead, it
captures the flavor of a
certain time, and of a
grand adventure. Cast in
one continuous movement
and lasting close to
fourteen minutes, the
piece falls into several
subsections, each with
its own heading: The
Dream (in which
Jefferson’s vision
of a vast expanse of
western land is opened);
The Promise, a chorale
that re-appears several
times in the course of
the piece and represents
the seriousness of the
presidential mission; The
River; The Voyageurs; The
River II ; Death and
Disappointment; Return to
the Voyage; and The River
III .The music includes
several quoted melodies,
one of which is familiar
to everyone as the
ultimate “river
song,†and which
becomes the
through-stream of the
work. All of the quoted
tunes were either sung by
the men on the voyage, or
played by
Cruzatte’s fiddle.
From various journals and
diaries, we know the men
found enjoyment and
solace in music, and
almost every night
encampment had at least a
bit of music in it. In
addition to Cruzatte,
there were two other
members of the party who
played the fiddle, and
others made do with
singing, or playing upon
sticks, bones, the
ever-present jaw harps,
and boat horns. From
Lewis’ journals, I
found all the tunes used
in Upriver: Shenandoah
(still popular after more
than 200 years),
V’la bon vent,
Soldier’s Joy,
Johnny Has Gone for a
Soldier, Come Ye Sinners
Poor and Needy (a hymn
sung to the tune
“Beech
Springâ€) and
Fisher’s Hornpipe.
The work follows an
emotional journey: not
necessarily step-by-step
with the Voyage of
Discovery heroes, but a
kind of grand arch.
Beginning in the mists of
history and myth,
traversing peaks and
valleys both real and
emotional (and a solemn
funeral scene), finding
help from native people,
and recalling their zeal
upon finding the one
great river that will, in
fact, take them to the
Pacific. When the men
finally roar through the
Columbia Gorge in their
boats (a feat that even
the Indians had not
attempted), the
magnificent river
combines its theme with
the chorale of
Jefferson’s
Promise. The Dream is
fulfilled: not quite the
one Jefferson had
imagined (there is no
navigable water passage
from the Missouri to the
Pacific), but the dream
of a continental
destiny.
(Piano/Vocal/Guitar). For Guitar; Keyboard; Piano; Voice. This edition: Piano/Vo...(+)
(Piano/Vocal/Guitar). For
Guitar; Keyboard; Piano;
Voice. This edition:
Piano/Vocal/Guitar. Book;
P/V/C Mixed Folio;
Piano/Vocal/Chords. The
Giant Sheet Music
Collection. Movie; TV.
240 pages. Published by
Alfred Music Publishing