PARTITIONS GRATUITES : 3 SAXOPHONES (TRIO)
- Eight movements for wind quartet - CS229

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

SKU: CF.MXE219

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

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

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

(Revised Edition Woodwind Quintet Playing Score). By Gyorgy Kurtag (1926-). EMB. Book only. 17 pages. Editio Musica Budapest #Z14638. Published by Editio Musica Budapest

Tenor & String Quartet

SKU: PE.EP72822

Composed by Jonathan Dove. Voice(s) & Various Instruments. Edition Peters. Living Composer. Score and Part(s). 164 pages. Duration 00:30:00. Edition Peters #98-EP72822. Published by Edition Peters (PE.EP72822).

ISBN 9790577011769. 232 x 303mm inches. English.

I have only visited Damascus once, twenty years ago, on the way to Palmyra.  I had a purpose (I was writing music for a play about Palmyra’s Queen Zenobia) but essentially I was a tourist.  Like any visitor, I was thrilled to step out of the noisy modern city into the magical ancient world of the walled Old City, its vibrant souk leading to the magnificent mosque, and a labyrinth of winding, narrow streets filled with the smell of unleavened bread.

In Palmyra, I was met with extraordinary kindness everywhere.  On one occasion, a little Bedouin boy noticed that I was risking sunstroke wandering bare-headed among the spectacular ruins: he showed me how to tie a turban, then took me to have tea with his family in their tent.

Since then, I have watched helplessly as these places of wonder have been devastated and their inhabitants scattered and killed.  When the Sacconi Quartet suggested that I might choose a Syrian poet for our collaboration, I welcomed the idea.

I searched for a long time to find a contemporary poet whose work might gain from any music I could imagine.  I felt it was important to find first-hand accounts of the Syrian experience – but, of course, I was always reading them in translation.  In an anthology called Syria Speaks, I was astonished to read something that looked like prose, but was full of poetry.  It was Anne-Marie McManus’s fine translation of Ali Safar’s A Black Cloud in a Leaden White Sky – an eloquent, thoughtful, contained yet vivid account of life in a war-torn country, all the more moving for its restraint.

In setting these words, I have not attempted to imitate Syrian music.  However, there is what might be called a linguistic accommodation in my choice of scale, or mode.  Several movements are in a mode that I first discovered while writing a cantata commemorating the First World War: it has a tuning that I associate with war, its violence and desolation.  This eight-note mode is similar to scales found in Syrian music.  I did not choose it in the abstract: it emerged from the harmonies I was exploring in the earlier work, and emerged again as I was looking for the right musical colours to set Ali Safar’s words.  In this work, its Arabic aspect is more prominent. - Jonathan Dove

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Chamber Music

SKU: PR.164002120

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

UPC: 680160037582.

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

SKU: PR.16400212S

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

UPC: 680160037605.

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

Dan Welcher’s most enduringly and frequently played orchestral work, Prairie Light is a fascinating musical companion to three of Georgia O’Keeffe’s most unusual paintings, Light Coming on the Plains, Canyon with Crows, and Starlight Night. This work is ideal for performances using visual projections of the paintings, and is frequently programmed for subscription concerts as well as those for educational settings. Duration: 14’ Parts available on rental.
This work for full orchestra was inspired by three paintings of the noted Americanartist Georgia O’Keeffe. These three watercolors were done in 1917 while the artist was living in Canyon, Texas (near Amarillo), and deal primarily with color and shape. Consequently, the music is primarily concerned with broad lines and shapes rather than rhythms, with subtle washes of color rather than constant harmonic movement, and with arching melody instead of linear counterpoint.The first movement, Light Coming on the Plains, is an elliptical-shaped painting, deep blue to indigo with a “horizon” at the bottom that seems flat and unchanging. The sun hasn’t risen yet, although it does in the course of this movement, but it seems instead to be providing light from behind the canvas. The music is unmoving in terms of rhythm or harmony (although there is a modulation midway through), a color-infused mantra of sound that is almost Eastern.At the height of the sun, we proceed to the second movement, entitled Canyon with Crows. The canyon is red-orange, with black crows circling above friendly unfolding hills. The music is gentle but lively and more rhythmic, with the birds represented by solo oboe, clarinet, and sometimes flute. Halfway through, the brass have a chorale version of the opening motive, played very slowly, over the unending triplets of woodwinds and strings. At the end of the movement, the birds return for a duo-cadenza, accompanied by the dying rays of the sun in muted strings and the ongoing triplets of the solo quartet.The stage is set for the final movement, Starlight Night. In O’Keeffe’s painting, the stars are represented by regularly-spaced rectangles of bright pale yellow on a blue-black sky, with the same shape to the field of vision and the horizon that is found in Light Coming on the Plains. The stars become audible: harp, celesta, glockenspiel, and string pizzicati all lend a sparkle while a solo flute introduces a slowly unfolding theme. After this theme has been heard twice and the sky has begun to really brighten, there is a sudden interruption: a xylophone and a piano begin another “mantra” in brittle staccato chords. This is the same mechanical eternity as O’Keeffe’s regularly-spaced square stars, and it continues on its own as the night progresses. The music builds and grows as the moon rises and arcs, then falls as the pre-dawn light that opened the work returns to bring it to a close. Acycle of light, changing with the movements of sun, moon, and stars, appearing differently from various points of view