PARTITIONS GRATUITES :
- Fanfare For The Common Man - Violin 1

Band Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3, Contrabass Clarinet, Contrabassoon, Double Bass, English Horn, Euphonium, Flute 1, Flute 2, Horn 1, Horn 2, Horn 3, Horn 4, Oboe 1, Oboe 2, Percussion 1 and more.

SKU: PR.16500101F

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 Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3, Contrabass Clarinet, Contrabassoon, Double Bass, English Horn, Euphonium, Flute 1, Flute 2, Horn 1, Horn 2, Horn 3, Horn 4, Oboe 1, Oboe 2, Percussion 1 and more.

SKU: PR.16500103F

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.

Band Bass Clarinet, Bassoon 1, Bassoon 2, Clarinet, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3, Contrabass Clarinet, Contrabassoon, Double Bass, English Horn, Euphonium, Flute 1, Flute 2, Horn 1, Horn 2, Horn 3, Horn 4, Oboe 1, Oboe 2, Percussion 1 and more.

SKU: PR.16500102F

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.

Concert band - Grade 3

SKU: MH.1-59913-054-8

Composed by Bob Margolis. Suitable for advanced middle school, high school, community and college bands. Conductor score and set of parts. Duration 4:45. Published by Manhattan Beach Music (MH.1-59913-054-8).

ISBN 9781599130545.

Roya l Coronation Dances is the first sequel to the Fanfare Ode & Festival, both being settings of dance music originally arranged by Gervaise in the mid 16th-century (the next sequel is The Renaissance Fair, which uses music of Susato and Praetorius). Fanfare Ode & Festival has been performed by many tens of thousands of students, both in high school and junior high school. I have heard that some of them are amazed that the music they are playing was first played and danced to over 400 years ago. Some students tend to think that music started with Handel and his Messiah to be followed by Beethoven and his Fifth Symphony, with naught in between or before of consequence. Although Royal Coronation Dances is derived from the same source as Fanfare Ode & Festival, they are treated in different ways. I envisioned this new suite programmatically -- hence the descriptive movement titles, which I imagined to be various dances actually used at some long-ago coronation. The first movement depicts the guests, both noble and common, flanked by flag and banner bearers, arriving at the palace to view the majestic event. They are festive, their flags swirling the air, their cloaks brightly colored. In the second movement, the queen in stately measure moves to take her place on the throne as leader and protector of the realm. In the third movement, the jesters of the court entertain the guests with wild games of sport. Musically, there are interesting sonorities to recreate. Very special attention should be given to the tambourine/tenor drum part in the first movement. Their lively rhythms give the movement its power. Therefore they should be played as distinctly and brilliantly as possible. The xylophone and glockenspiel add clarity, but must not be allowed to dominate. Observe especially the differing dynamics; the intent is to allow much buzzing bass to penetrate. The small drum (starting at meas. 29) should be played expressively, with attention to the notated articulations, with the brass light and detached, especially in a lively auditorium. It is of some further interest that the first dance is extremely modal. The original is clearly in G mixolydian mode (scale: G-A-B-C-D-E-F-G). However, other editors might put in F-sharps in many places (changing the piece almost to G major), in the belief that such ficta would have been automatically put in by the 16th-century performers as they played. I doubt it. I have not only eschewed these within the work, but even at the cadences. So this arrangement is most distinctly modal (listen to the F-naturals in meas. 22 and 23, for instance), with all the part-writing as Gervaise wrote it. In the second movement, be careful that things do not become too glued together. In the 16th century this music might have been played by a consort of recorders, instruments very light of touch and sensitive to articulation. Concert band can easily sound heavy, and although this movement has been scored for tutti band, it must not sound it. It is essential, therefore, that you hear all the instruments, with none predominating. Only when each timbre can be heard separately and simultaneously will the best blend occur, and consequently the greatest transparency. So aim for a transparent, spacious tutti sound in this movement. Especially have the flutes, who do this so well, articulate rather sharply, so as to produce a chiffing sound, and do not allow the quarter-notes to become too tied together in the entire band. The entrance of the drums (first tenor, then bass) are events and as such should be audible. Incidentally, this movement begins in F Major and ends in D Minor: They really didn't care so much about those things then. The third movement (one friend has remarked that it is the most Margolisian of the bunch, but actually I am just getting subtler, I hope) again relies upon the percussion (and the scoring) to make its points. Xylophone in this movement is meant to be distinctly audible. Therefore, be especially sure that the xylophone player is secure in the part, and also that the tambourine and toms sound good. This movement must fly or it will sink, so rev up the band and conduct it in 1 for this mixolydian jesting. I suppose the wildly unrelated keys (clarinets and then brass at the end) would be a good 16th-century joke, but to us, our put-up-the-chorus-a-half- step ears readily accept such shenanigans. Ensemble instrumentation: 1 Full Score, 1 Piccolo, 4 Flute 1, 4 Flute 2 & 3, 2 Oboe 1 & 2, 2 Bassoon 1 & 2, 1 Eb Clarinet, 4 Bb Clarinet 1, 4 Bb Clarinet 2, 4 Bb Clarinet 3, 2 Eb Alto Clarinet, 1 Eb Contra Alto Clarinet, 3 Bb Bass & Bb Contrabass Clarinet, 2 Eb Alto Saxophone 1, 2 Eb Alto Saxophone 2, 2 Bb Tenor Saxophone, 2 Eb Baritone Saxophone, 3 Bb Trumpet 1, 3 Bb Trumpet 2, 3 Bb Trumpet 3, 4 Horn in F 1 & 2, 2 Trombone 1, 4 Trombone 2 & 3, 3 Euphonium (B.C.), 2 Euphonium (T.C.), 4 Tuba, 1 String Bass, 1 Timpani (optional), 2 Xylophone & Glockenspiel, 5 Percussion.

SKU: CY.CC2360

Composed by I Tromboni. Arranged by Jim Tranquila. Audio CD with inserts. Published by Cherry Classics (CY.CC2360).

A landmark audio/video CD-Rom recorded in 2003. The dynamic and always entertaining group of five of Canada's finest young Trombonists is the Team Canada of Trombones. This recording is crammed with 15 great tracks of music including:

1. Fanfare for the Common Man; 2. The Flight of the Bumblebee; 3. La Primavera from the Four Seasons; 4. Sondheim's Send in the Clowns; 5. Verdi's Overture to Nabucco; 6 Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho; 7. Tommy Pederson's Wishing Well; 8. Dango's Tango; 9. Transcendance; 10. Danny Elfman's Simpsons Theme; 11. Vivaldi Concerto for Two Trumpets; 12. Barumba by Pearce; 13. Elsa's Procession to the Cathedral trans. by Cherry; 14. O Canada & Hockey Night in Canada Theme; 15. Mission Impossible Theme.

Choral Cello, Piano, alto 1, alto 2, soprano 1, soprano 2

SKU: CF.CM9750

Composed by Z. Randall Stroope. Duration 4 minutes, 48 seconds. Carl Fischer Music #CM9750. Published by Carl Fischer Music (CF.CM9750).

ISBN 9781491162385. UPC: 680160921133. Key: F major. English. Robert Frost.

About the workFew American poems are as well known as The Road Not Taken. Robert Frost, the author, is an international icon, not unlike Pablo Picasso, Winston Churchill or Mark Twain in their own disciplines. The poem is full of contradictions and quirks of form and structure. Perhaps that illusiveness is part of the poem's intrigue. But beyond all of the literary devices that only a few scholars may fully appreciate, this poem has taken on a sort of fanfare for the common person credo - a challenge to individualism, stepping out on one's own, and breaking the mold out of sheer determination if nothing else. Frost connects to the core of the human spirit in just a few stanzas using the analogy of a fork in a road. The message super cedes geography, culture, race or creed. Rather, it is part of the DNA of most every person on the planet - the inner desire to feel empowered to create one's own destiny, to forge a road not taken, and ultimately in doing so, to make a difference.Rehearsal notesResearch strongly suggests that there is a direct connection between the first rehearsal and the performance. First impressions last. I find it helpful to immediately lock three concepts into place - mechanics (notes/rhythms), text/phrasing (intent and motivation) and color (timbre). Performers need to think musically from the first reading forward (first impression). The cello is very much a collaborative instrument in this work, and should be located in front of the ensemble (not to side). Lastly, let the text speak. The simplest melodic lines are often the most exposed. Keep the voices clear and transparent, floating over the top in softer passages, and singing with vibrancy and forward focus throughout.Z. Randall Stroope.

Volume 1. By Various. Arranged by Roger Brison, Brison. (Piano). Boosey and Hawkes Piano. Book only. Size 9x12 inches. 46 pages. Published by Boosey and Hawkes.

Band Bass Clarinet, Bass Drum, Bassoon, Bells, Chimes, Clarinet 1, Clarinet 2, Clarinet 3, Crash Cymbals, Euphonium, Euphonium T.C., Flute 1, Flute 2, Horn, Mallet Percussion, Oboe, Percussion 1, Percussion 2, Percussion 3, Snare Drum and more. - Grade 3

SKU: CF.CPS234

Composed by Travis Weller. Folio. Cps. Set of Score and Parts. 8+8+4+8+8+8+4+4+8+4+4+8+8 +8+8+6+6+6+4+8+6+2+4+4+6+ 32 pages. Duration 3 minutes, 10 seconds. Carl Fischer Music #CPS234. Published by Carl Fischer Music (CF.CPS234).

ISBN 9781491156346. UPC: 680160914883. 9 x 12 inches.

Mercury - the Roman god of financial gain, commerce, travelers, boundaries, luck, trickery, merchants, and thieves. A popular deity in Roman culture, he was instantly recognized by his unique winged shoes (talaria) and hat (petasos). With its close proximity to the sun and faster orbit than all other planets, the Romans named this small celestial body after the swift-winged messenger of their culture. It is not surprising that in Holst's major orchestral suite The Planets that Mercury utilizes such light and swift themes. There is some duality to the title of the work. Part of it involves my impression of what a playful chase of the winged messenger sounds like. The other part is the opening motif chasing two themes of Holst around the rest of the work. It was only after developing the first few ideas that I recognized some of the commonalities with some of those same themes from Holst's orchestral work. There are several quotations from that famous piece by Holst (notably as both are stated successively at mm. 13-20). The idea of someone having to chase the Winged Messenger struck me as a unique title around which to craft a work. One of my core beliefs about music is that it can be imbued with meaning by a composer, and as the sonic story unfolds an ensemble, director, and audience members can draw out their own meaning from the experience. Who exactly is chasing Mercury? I leave that up to the wonderfully creative minds of the young ladies and gentlemen who have the opportunity to bring this work to life. The opportunity to compose music and allow student musicians to give this piece new life and draw out different meanings is a humbling experience. Rehearsal Notes and Suggestions As stated earlier, the opening motif (a range of a seventh) comes back frequently in the work in a variety of settings and textures. Throughout the work, it is important for students to recognize the two themes from Holst when they are present in the sound canvas. If the solos (clarinet and alto saxophone) are utilized, the supporting parts around and underneath those lines must be sensitive and play in such a way to properly balance those parts. There are number of muted sections for the trumpet section, and I would advocate for all trumpets acquiring the same mute to contribute to unity in timbre. The bold fanfare sections (the first occurs at m. 37) must be presented with a unified articulation style. As the texture intensifies prior to m. 169, it is crucial for the ensemble to play within themselves and exercise musical courtesy to allow all voices to be heard as they arrive at m. 181. My thanks in advance for your support of this music, and I wish you well as you and your ensemble begin Chasing Mercury!.
Mercury – the Roman god of financial gain, commerce, travelers, boundaries, luck, trickery, merchants, and thieves. A popular deity in Roman culture, he was instantly recognized by his unique winged shoes (talaria) and hat (petasos). With its close proximity to the sun and faster orbit than all other planets, the Romans named this small celestial body after the swift-winged messenger of their culture. It is not surprising that in Holst’s major orchestral suite The Planets that Mercury utilizes such light and swift themes.There is some duality to the title of the work. Part of it involves my impression of what a playful chase of the winged messenger sounds like. The other part is the opening motif chasing two themes of Holst around the rest of the work. It was only after developing the first few ideas that I recognized some of the commonalities with some of those same themes from Holst’s orchestral work. There are several quotations from that famous piece by Holst (notably as both are stated successively at mm. 13–20). The idea of someone having to chase the Winged Messenger struck me as a unique title around which to craft a work.One of my core beliefs about music is that it can be imbued with meaning by a composer, and as the sonic story unfolds an ensemble, director, and audience members can draw out their own meaning from the experience. Who exactly is chasing Mercury? I leave that up to the wonderfully creative minds of the young ladies and gentlemen who have the opportunity to bring this work to life. The opportunity to compose music and allow student musicians to give this piece new life and draw out different meanings is a humbling experience.Rehearsal Notes and SuggestionsAs stated earlier, the opening motif (a range of a seventh) comes back frequently in the work in a variety of settings and textures. Throughout the work, it is important for students to recognize the two themes from Holst when they are present in the sound canvas. If the solos (clarinet and alto saxophone) are utilized, the supporting parts around and underneath those lines must be sensitive and play in such a way to properly balance those parts. There are number of muted sections for the trumpet section, and I would advocate for all trumpets acquiring the same mute to contribute to unity in timbre. The bold fanfare sections (the first occurs at m. 37) must be presented with a unified articulation style. As the texture intensifies prior to m. 169, it is crucial for the ensemble to play within themselves and exercise musical courtesy to allow all voices to be heard as they arrive at m. 181. My thanks in advance for your support of this music, and I wish you well as you and your ensemble begin Chasing Mercury!