PARTITIONS GRATUITES : CHœUR SATB
- Mathematics

SKU: HL.233291

9.0x12.0x0.44 inches.

Performance Score. Spiral bound.

SKU: HL.49046544

ISBN 9781705122655. UPC: 842819108726. 9.0x12.0x0.224 inches.

I composed the Piano Concerto in two stages: the first three movements during the years 1985-86, the next two in 1987, the final autograph of the last movement was ready by January, 1988. The concerto is dedicated to the American conductor Mario di Bonaventura. The markings of the movements are the following: 1. Vivace molto ritmico e preciso 2. Lento e deserto 3. Vivace cantabile 4. Allegro risoluto 5. Presto luminoso.The first performance of the three-movement Concerto was on October 23rd, 1986 in Graz. Mario di Bonaventura conducted while his brother, Anthony di Bonaventura, was the soloist. Two days later the performance was repeated in the Vienna Konzerthaus. After hearing the work twice, I came to the conclusion that the third movement is not an adequate finale; my feeling of form demanded continuation, a supplement. That led to the composing of the next two movements. The premiere of the whole cycle took place on February 29th, 1988, in the Vienna Konzerthaus with the same conductor and the same pianist. The orchestra consisted of the following: flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn, trumpet, tenor trombone, percussion and strings. The flautist also plays the piccoIo, the clarinetist, the alto ocarina. The percussion is made up of diverse instruments, which one musician-virtuoso can play. It is more practical, however, if two or three musicians share the instruments. Besides traditional instruments the percussion part calls also for two simple wind instruments: the swanee whistle and the harmonica. The string instrument parts (two violins, viola, cello and doubles bass) can be performed soloistic since they do not contain divisi. For balance, however, the ensemble playing is recommended, for example 6-8 first violins, 6-8 second, 4-6 violas, 4-6 cellos, 3-4 double basses. In the Piano Concerto I realized new concepts of harmony and rhythm. The first movement is entirely written in bimetry: simultaneously 12/8 and 4/4 (8/8). This relates to the known triplet on a doule relation and in itself is nothing new. Because, however, I articulate 12 triola and 8 duola pulses, an entangled, up till now unheard kind of polymetry is created. The rhythm is additionally complicated because of asymmetric groupings inside two speed layers, which means accents are asymmetrically distributed. These groups, as in the talea technique, have a fixed, continuously repeating rhythmic structures of varying lengths in speed layers of 12/8 and 4/4. This means that the repeating pattern in the 12/8 level and the pattern in the 4/4 level do not coincide and continuously give a kaleidoscope of renewing combinations. In our perception we quickly resign from following particular rhythmical successions and that what is going on in time appears for us as something static, resting. This music, if it is played properly, in the right tempo and with the right accents inside particular layers, after a certain time 'rises, as it were, as a plane after taking off: the rhythmic action, too complex to be able to follow in detail, begins flying. This diffusion of individual structures into a different global structure is one of my basic compositional concepts: from the end of the fifties, from the orchestral works Apparitions and Atmospheres I continuously have been looking for new ways of resolving this basic question. The harmony of the first movement is based on mixtures, hence on the parallel leading of voices. This technique is used here in a rather simple form; later in the fourth movement it will be considerably developed. The second movement (the only slow one amongst five movements) also has a talea type of structure, it is however much simpler rhythmically, because it contains only one speed layer. The melody is consisted in the development of a rigorous interval mode in which two minor seconds and one major second alternate therefore nine notes inside an octave. This mode is transposed into different degrees and it also determines the harmony of the movement; however, in closing episode in the piano part there is a combination of diatonics (white keys) and pentatonics (black keys) led in brilliant, sparkling quasimixtures, while the orchestra continues to play in the nine tone mode. In this movement I used isolated sounds and extreme registers (piccolo in a very low register, bassoon in a very high register, canons played by the swanee whistle, the alto ocarina and brass with a harmon-mute' damper, cutting sound combinations of the piccolo, clarinet and oboe in an extremely high register, also alternating of a whistle-siren and xylophone). The third movement also has one speed layer and because of this it appears as simpler than the first, but actually the rhythm is very complicated in a different way here. Above the uninterrupted, fast and regular basic pulse, thanks to the asymmetric distribution of accents, different types of hemiolas and inherent melodical patterns appear (the term was coined by Gerhard Kubik in relation to central African music). If this movement is played with the adequate speed and with very clear accentuation, illusory rhythmic-melodical figures appear. These figures are not played directly; they do not appear in the score, but exist only in our perception as a result of co-operation of different voices. Already earlier I had experimented with illusory rhythmics, namely in Poeme symphonique for 100 metronomes (1962), in Continuum for harpsichord (1968), in Monument for two pianos (1976), and especially in the first and sixth piano etude Desordre and Automne a Varsovie (1985). The third movement of the Piano Concerto is up to now the clearest example of illusory rhythmics and illusory melody. In intervallic and chordal structure this movement is based on alternation, and also inter-relation of various modal and quasi-equidistant harmony spaces. The tempered twelve-part division of the octave allows for diatonical and other modal interval successions, which are not equidistant, but are based on the alternation of major and minor seconds in different groups. The tempered system also allows for the use of the anhemitonic pentatonic scale (the black keys of the piano). From equidistant scales, therefore interval formations which are based on the division of an octave in equal distances, the twelve-tone tempered system allows only chromatics (only minor seconds) and the six-tone scale (the whole-tone: only major seconds). Moreover, the division of the octave into four parts only minor thirds) and three parts (three major thirds) is possible. In several music cultures different equidistant divisions of an octave are accepted, for example, in the Javanese slendro into five parts, in Melanesia into seven parts, popular also in southeastern Asia, and apart from this, in southern Africa. This does not mean an exact equidistance: there is a certain tolerance for the inaccurateness of the interval tuning. These exotic for us, Europeans, harmony and melody have attracted me for several years. However I did not want to re-tune the piano (microtone deviations appear in the concerto only in a few places in the horn and trombone parts led in natural tones). After the period of experimenting, I got to pseudo- or quasiequidistant intervals, which is neither whole-tone nor chromatic: in the twelve-tone system, two whole-tone scales are possible, shifted a minor second apart from each other. Therefore, I connect these two scales (or sound resources), and for example, places occur where the melodies and figurations in the piano part are created from both whole tone scales; in one band one six-tone sound resource is utilized, and in the other hand, the complementary. In this way whole-tonality and chromaticism mutually reduce themselves: a type of deformed equidistancism is formed, strangely brilliant and at the same time slanting; illusory harmony, indeed being created inside the tempered twelve-tone system, but in sound quality not belonging to it anymore. The appearance of such slantedequidistant harmony fields alternating with modal fields and based on chords built on fifths (mainly in the piano part), complemented with mixtures built on fifths in the orchestra, gives this movement an individual, soft-metallic colour (a metallic sound resulting from harmonics). The fourth movement was meant to be the central movement of the Concerto. Its melodc-rhythmic elements (embryos or fragments of motives) in themselves are simple. The movement also begins simply, with a succession of overlapping of these elements in the mixture type structures. Also here a kaleidoscope is created, due to a limited number of these elements - of these pebbles in the kaleidoscope - which continuously return in augmentations and diminutions. Step by step, however, so that in the beginning we cannot hear it, a compiled rhythmic organization of the talea type gradually comes into daylight, based on the simultaneity of two mutually shifted to each other speed layers (also triplet and duoles, however, with different asymmetric structures than in the first movement). While longer rests are gradually filled in with motive fragments, we slowly come to the conclusion that we have found ourselves inside a rhythmic-melodical whirl: without change in tempo, only through increasing the density of the musical events, a rotation is created in the stream of successive and compiled, augmented and diminished motive fragments, and increasing the density suggests acceleration. Thanks to the periodical structure of the composition, always new but however of the same (all the motivic cells are similar to earlier ones but none of them are exactly repeated; the general structure is therefore self-similar), an impression is created of a gigantic, indissoluble network. Also, rhythmic structures at first hidden gradually begin to emerge, two independent speed layers with their various internal accentuations. This great, self-similar whirl in a very indirect way relates to musical associations, which came to my mind while watching the graphic projection of the mathematical sets of Julia and of Mandelbrot made with the help of a computer. I saw these wonderful pictures of fractal creations, made by scientists from Brema, Peitgen and Richter, for the first time in 1984. From that time they have played a great role in my musical concepts. This does not mean, however, that composing the fourth movement I used mathematical methods or iterative calculus; indeed, I did use constructions which, however, are not based on mathematical thinking, but are rather craftman's constructions (in this respect, my attitude towards mathematics is similar to that of the graphic artist Maurits Escher). I am concerned rather with intuitional, poetic, synesthetic correspondence, not on the scientific, but on the poetic level of thinking. The fifth, very short Presto movement is harmonically very simple, but all the more complicated in its rhythmic structure: it is based on the further development of ''inherent patterns of the third movement. The quasi-equidistance system dominates harmonically and melodically in this movement, as in the third, alternating with harmonic fields, which are based on the division of the chromatic whole into diatonics and anhemitonic pentatonics. Polyrhythms and harmonic mixtures reach their greatest density, and at the same time this movement is strikingly light, enlightened with very bright colours: at first it seems chaotic, but after listening to it for a few times it is easy to grasp its content: many autonomous but self-similar figures which crossing themselves. I present my artistic credo in the Piano Concerto: I demonstrate my independence from criteria of the traditional avantgarde, as well as the fashionable postmodernism. Musical illusions which I consider to be also so important are not a goal in itself for me, but a foundation for my aesthetical attitude. I prefer musical forms which have a more object-like than processual character. Music as frozen time, as an object in imaginary space evoked by music in our imagination, as a creation which really develops in time, but in imagination it exists simultaneously in all its moments. The spell of time, the enduring its passing by, closing it in a moment of the present is my main intention as a composer. (Gyorgy Ligeti).

ISBN 9781622774333.

Musi c teachers know their students don’t just learn to play music, they are also exposed to universal life skills along the way. But that’s just part of the story. Currently, most students are largely left to learn these universal skills—like problem-solving, patience, focus, collaboration, critical thinking, creativity, and communication—on their own and often not very effectively. The Transposed Musician is a practical guide to teaching these universal skills within the context of a traditional music lesson. The results not only empower students to better confront the challenges of the twenty-first century, they significantly improve musicianship—a double benefit. Author Dylan Savage spent two decades refining his approach to teaching universal skills through music, and he shares them in this book. Each of the eight chapters of The Transposed Musician focuses on a specific universal skill (problem-solving, focus, patience, critical thinking, communication, collaboration, improvisation, and creativity) and shows how students can apply that skill to music. He then shows how teachers can guide those students to “transpose” that skill to life and back again to music with far deeper understanding and musicianship. With practical examples and clear writing, this book is for music educators wishing to help their students become both better musicians and also better-equipped citizens of the world. Students truly become “transposed musicians” for life and for music. Dylan Savage is Associate Professor of Piano at the University of North Carolina–Charlotte . He is also a Bösendorfer Concert Artist, a Capstone Records Recording Artist, and a winner of the Rome Festival Orchestra Competition. https://thetransposedmusi cian.com/ This book is priceless and contains a wealth of music teaching information that every teacher should apply to their studio. Dylan Savage’s use of universal skills transforms music teaching into a viable and essential part of education in the twenty-first-century. This teaching approach of using universal skills can revolutionize teaching music in both the private studio and college level and will give teachers a greater sense of purpose and satisfaction in their work. This book challenges many preconceived ideas about teaching music and mastering performance. Bravo for shaking up the status quo. —Randall Hartsell     Composer, Clinician, Teacher This book asks and explores fascinating questions about what it means to study music in a changing world. Are there skills we can learn in our music lessons which can enrich our lives in other non-musical areas, and then can we bring those expanded skills back into our study of music itself? Too often our conservatories are dead-ends, stuck with outdated, one-dimensional approaches which can lead to stunted personal development. This book suggests ways in which we can break down doors, for students and teachers alike, and celebrate music as something life-affirming, in and out of the studio. —Stephen Hough     Pianist, Composer, Writer Dylan Savage has given us a fresh and creative pedagogy to guide our music students toward life as twenty-first-century musicians. His career as pianist and teacher, and his firsthand experience in the marketplace of business and industry, allow him to forge a systematic approach to teaching universal skills in the music lesson. In each of the eight chapters, skills such as problem-solving, focus, critical thinking, collaboration, and improvisation are defined and applied to musical skills. These in turn are “transposed” to non-musical applications. We observe the music lessons and the active “transposition† or transfer of universal skills exemplified through descriptions of particular lessons. The anxieties, confusions, and ultimate comfort and understanding of students are guided by the questions of the teacher. The book is beautifully organized and is enriched by quotations of artists, musicians and philosophers, and suggested readings and references. I really think this is an important and helpful book with a point of view that is much needed. The empathy and knowledge of the author steer the reader toward the realities of today’s musical world, a world that requires skilled musicians to have universal skills that benefit their lives, regardless of their ultimate career paths. —Phyllis Alpert Lehrer     Professor Emerita, Westminster Choir College of Rider University     Artist Faculty, Westminster Conservatory In The Transposed Musician, Dylan Savage combines a visionary’s deep understanding of the challenges music students and teachers face with an eminently practical way to meet those challenges. Using a master teacher’s insight, Savage “transposes” eight potential stumbling blocks into eight universal skills that can be acquired through a beautifully organized, step-by-step approach. In turn, he shows how these skills can be applied to other areas in our rapidly changing world, helping us lead more satisfying, meaningful, and fulfilling lives, not only as musicians, but as human beings. For students and teachers alike, an inspired and inspiring book. —Barbara Lister-Sink, Ed.D.     Producer, Freeing the Caged Bird The Transposed Musician is an important contribution to our literature on teaching essential life skills including problem-solving, patience, focus, critical thinking, and creativity within the traditional music lesson. Teachers and students both can benefit from the study and application of these skills. Applications are made both to the traditional lesson as well as to non-music applications. —Jane Magrath     Pianist, Author, Teacher     University of Oklahoma Twenty-five hundred years ago Plato recommended music first in his ideal curriculum for potential leaders of Athens—before sport, mathematics, and moral philosophy. None of his candidates, one may assume, aspired to become a professional musician. Nevertheless, throughout centuries, otherwise people have acknowledged that the study and practice of music generates collateral benefits essential to human fulfillment. In his new book The Transposed Musician, Professor Dylan Savage of the University of North Carolina at Charlotte identifies eight of these benefits—Problem Solving, Focus, Patience, Critical Thinking, Communication, Collaboration, Improvisation, and Creativity—and calls them “universal skills” which may be developed consciously and systematically within the context of traditional music lessons. Doing so takes what has been implicit all along and makes it explicit. Music is good for us! Music teachers, even at the highest conservatory level, learn from Professor Savage that they are not so much professional trainers as guides to a happier, more successful life. —Dr. Joseph Robinson     Principal Oboe, New York Philharmonic (1978–2005)     Successful author, teacher, producer, and arts advocate Savage's excellent book couldn't be more timely, unique, clear, full of wisdom, and exactly what we need. As he points out, music teachers have known for generations—in a rather generalized way—that musical skills can strengthen life skills in many ways. Dylan Savage is the first to address this 'transposition' intentionally, with specific exercises in the transferrable skills. What better gift could there be for music students facing an ever-changing world? —William Westney     Award-winning concert pianist (Geneva Competition) and teacher     Author of The Perfect Wrong Note: Learning to Trust Your Musical Self.

SKU: HL.48024788

ISBN 9781784545314. UPC: 888680967536. 9x12 inches.

This characteristically ever-evolving, single (29-minute) movement bears the remarkable title Responses: Sweet Disorder and the Carefully Careless, which is that of a book of essays by Birtwistle's friend Robert Maxwell... The composer must not be “too precisein every part”, a frequent failing of the post-Schoenbergian serial music on which Birtwistle cut his teeth. But his own imaginationhas never subordinated itself to mathematics, and certainly doesn't in this turbulent, scherzo-like, brilliantly multilayered score (a melodic thread always on hand to lead us through the maze of invention)... the soloist-and-tutti relationship, Birtwistle's abiding concern, went into a dazzling new dimension.