Solo and Chamber
select a title below for audio sample, score sample, and more information
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
Nikki Chooi, violin
Natalie Helm, violoncello
Commissioned by Music from Angel Fire
Premiered Sept. 4, 2011 by Nikki Chooi, violin, and Natalie Helm, violoncello, Angel Fire Community Center, Angel Fire, NM
My favorite time of day is the late afternoon, when the sun's light turns golden and I often find my mind wandering in daydreams. I decided to write a serires of miniatures inspired by these thoughts -- a set of small pieces of distinct and contrasting characters. After finishing one of them, however, I realized that the turbulent nature of what I'd written seemed a little at odds with my original idea, and when the second piece also turned out darker than I'd anticipated, I decided to amend the title to reflect the dual nature of the work.
I. A bold, declamatory movement with extensive canonic writing.
II. A sprightly dance in which the violin and cello trade melodic and accompanimental roles.
III. An introspective movement, full of quiet sadness.
IV. Agitated, the most nightmarish of the set.
V. Begins as a proper, elegant dance. This mood gradually unravels, leading to an impassioned climax in the cello, and then recedes to a shadow of the initial material.
VI. A wild, folk-inflected finale, full of highly virtuosic writing.
Music Box
The Garden Hedge
Snow on Snow
Russian Dance
Scene after Boccaccio
Madeline Blood, harp
No recording of S'io credesse is currently available.
Commissioned by the Lyra Society for harpist Madeline Blood
Premiered May 26, 2011 by Madeline Blood, harp, Curtis Institute of Music, Philadelphia, PA
As a child, I was fascinated by the old jukebox in our neighborhood pizza parlor. Even though I hardly knew any of the songs on its list, I would always beg my parents for a quarter so I could choose one and punch in the corresponding number on the little neon keypad. It was exciting to think I was choosing the music that everyone in the restaurant would listen to.
The six movements of Salzedo's Jukebox cover a wide variety of musical and dramatic territory. Some are deliberately simple, others comparatively complex, but each of them occupies only a few short pages, and like the songs in the pizza parlor, each lasts for but a short space of time. Any or all of them can be played in any order the harpist desires.
In naming this piece, I wanted to pay respect to harpist Carlos Salzedo, whose work in codifying, clarifying, and creating a number of techniques specific to the instrument has profoundly influenced composers for almost a century now. Each time I work with harpists, I'm impressed by their fearless attitude toward exploring their instrument's unique capabilities, and I'm certain this is due in part to Salzedo's explorations, which made otherwise "extended techniques" into part of a harpist's standard practice.
Elizabeth Fayette, violin
Commissioned by the Curtis Institute of Music for violinist Elizabeth Fayette
Premiered April 26, 2011 by Elizabeth Fayette, violin, Curtis Institute of Music, Philadelphia, PA
My Caprice was written at the request of Elizabeth Fayette for a solo recital marking her graduation from the Curtis Institute of Music. During the time we were students there together, Libby had performed a number of my pieces, and it was a joy to write this virtuosic, bravura work for a brilliant musician friend. Just before the end of the piece, there's a quick nod to a famous violinist-composer, somebody whose writing for the instrument never ceases to amaze this non-string-player.
Edward Schultz, flute
Marc Rovetti, violin
John Koen, violoncello
Commissioned by Network for New Music (Philadelphia)
Premiered Nov. 21, 2010 by Edward Schultz, flute, Marc Rovetti, violin, John Koen, violoncello, Philadelphia Ethical Society, Philadelphia, PA
Written for a Network for New Music concert entitled “Trade Winds from Tibet,” this work was inspired by listening to recordings of Nepalese court singer Tashi Tsering as made by composer Andrea Clearfield and anthropologist Katey Blumenthal while on a trek to the remote Himalayan region of Lo Monthang in late May, 2010.
Of the many recordings that Andrea sent me, one piece in particular stuck out as my favorite: "Shuktar Ki Gar Lu." I had been asked to compose a work based in some way upon the Nepalese music, but after repeated listenings, I came to realize that without doing some serious study, I couldn't hope to understand what was truly important or intrinsic to the music, especially as someone coming from outside the culture that had produced it. When I read the translation of the lyrics, though, I felt an immediate resonance with their message: a kind of vigorous "call to action," balanced by a recognition of the ephemeral nature of all life.
From that point, I simply wrote a brief piece that reflected that feeling, a kind of personal musical response to one of Tashi Tsering’s recordings. I did choose to cast the piece in ABA form (which is also how the original song was structured), but beyond that, there is very little resemblance between the two pieces. My work's title comes from the lyrics at the end of the original song's first verse:
The rays of the sun shine brightly
The party goers are wearing golden dresses
Take a round to the right
Take a round to the left
Mother's daughters take a round to the right
And sing and dance with energy
Boys, dance actively for the brave ladies
We only have one life,
As fleeting as the flowers' three months.
Charlotte Blake Allston, narrator
Loren Lind, flute
Jeffrew Curnow, trumpet
Lloyd Smith, violoncello
Anthony Orlando, percussion
Bonnie Wagner, piano
Commissioned by the Philadelphia Orchestra Association for performance on its educational outreach concert series, Sound All Around
Premiered February 27, 2010 by the musicians of Sound All Around, with Charlotte Blake Allston, narrator, at the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, PA
Commissioned by saxophonist Christopher Creviston and harpist Francis Duffy
Premiered January 15, 2009 by Creviston and Duffy, Greenwich House Music School, New York, NY
The Languedoc is a region in southern France that I had the opportunity to visit late in the summer of 2008. Rather overshadowed by its cousin Provence just to the east, it is not a common travel destination or even terribly well known, but I found it to be a remarkable area of surprising diversity. Two of the many places I explored there made such an impression upon me that they found their way into my music, though I don’t claim that these two movements in any way accurately or objectively depict the settings that inspired their composition. Instead, they reflect my personal reactions to these landscapes, focusing on and perhaps magnifying what I found most striking about these beautiful places.
L’Espiguette is a long stretch of Mediterranean coastline which has been protected as a natural area. As a result, the area is completely undeveloped and thus incredibly peaceful; gazing down the shore, one sees nothing but an endless succession of sand dunes stretching down the edge of the water. Despite the pristine condition of the area, there were very few people on the beach the day I was there.
Saint-Jean-de-la-Blaquière is the name of the tiny village where I spent my nights in the Languedoc, sleeping at the house of a friend. The roughness of the natural environment there astonished me: massive sheer cliff faces, scrubby, twisted vegetation, and everywhere one looked, the deep, rusty color of exposed earth. If certain parts of the second movement strike the listener as wild or harsh, it is certainly a reflection of the village’s incredible natural surroundings, and not at all of the warm hospitality I experienced while staying there.
Christopher Creviston, alto saxophone
Oren Fader, electric guitar
Commissioned by the Cavatina Duo (Chicago)
Premiered by Christopher Creviston, alto saxophone, Oren Fader, guitar, Greenwich House Music School, New York, NY
Recorded by Mimi Stillman, flute, Charles Abramovic, piano – Odyssey: 11 American Premieres for Flute and Piano, Innova Recordings, 2011
This work is a free setting of a traditional sevdalinka folk song from the Balkan region. In creating this instrumental version of a vocal work, I tried to preserve the spirit of the original lyrics, which deal with universal themes of love and loss. These are the traditional themes of sevdalinka songs, a genre which originated through contact with the Turks, and fuses elements of European, Middle Eastern, and Sephardic music. The original song's structure was preserved in making this transcription, but I treated the harmony and the melodic line more freely, taking advantage of the extended range and agility of both instruments.
| Sejdefu majka buđaše: Ustani, kćeri moja Sejdefo! Zar misliš, majko, da ja spim! Ja ti se mlada s dušom dijelim. Zovni mi, majko, komšije, I prvo moje gledanje. Što smo se, majko, gledali, U šajku, lađu na more. |
Sejdefa's mother wakes her: Rise, dear daughter Sejdefa! Do you think, mother, that I'm asleep? I'm parting with my soul. Call all the neighbors And my first love. The one whose eyes met mine Last summer by the sea. |
Elizabeth Fayette, violin
Dayna Anderson, violin
Hyobi Sim, viola
Jiyoung Lee, violoncello
Commissioned by the New York Youth Symphony Chamber Music Program
Premiered April 30, 2008 by the Harmonnia String Quartet, Weill Hall, Carnegie Hall, New York, NY
Quentin Kim, piano
Commissioned by pianist Quentin Kim
Premiered in October 2006 by Kim, Paul Recital Hall, the Juilliard School, New York, NY
Commissioned by David and Carol Lui for the handbell choir of St. Odilia Catholic Church, Shoreview, Minnesota
Premiered April 2006 by the St. Odilia Handbell Choir, St. Odilia Catholic Church, Shoreview, MN
Saxophone version
Brian Sacawa, alto saxophone
Michael Djupstrom, piano
Viola version
Milena Pajaro-van de Stadt, viola
Michael Djupstrom, piano
Commissioned by the Michigan Music Teachers Association and saxophonists Donald Sinta and Brian Sacawa
Premiered October 16, 2005 by Sacawa and Wenli Zhou, MMTA Annual Conference, Ann Arbor, MI
Viola version premiered
May 8, 2011 by Milena Pajaro-van de Stadt, viola, and Michael Djupstrom, piano, Curtis Institute of Music, Philadelphia
Recorded by Jonathan Wintringham, saxophone, Michael Djupstrom, piano – Walimai, Equilibrium, 2010
Recorded by Jeremy Justeson, saxophone, Michael Djupstrom, piano – Pimpin', American Modern Records, 2011
Much of Walimai inhabits the dark, mysterious world that lies concealed beneath the rainforest canopy. This vast, timeless landscape is also the setting for the powerful short story of the same name found in Isabel Allende’s fascinating collection “Cuentos de Eva Luna.” Allende’s work first provided the inspiration for this piece, and to some extent, suggested its dramatic and emotional trajectory, which traces a path from clarity and freedom through a terrible loss toward an eventual release from suffering and return to peace.
Allende’s Walimai is one of the Children of the Moon, a tribe of indigenous people who live deep in the forest, just beyond the reach of the outside world – a world with which contact is fleeting and often violent. In the course of the story, Walimai is responsible for the death of a woman, thus violating the first fundamental law of his people. As she dies, the woman’s soul enters his body, forcing Walimai to carry with him the tremendous weight of her earthbound spirit and the knowledge of his actions.
For more than a month, the two are bound to one another, and with each day, the woman’s spirit weighs more heavily upon Walimai. As they move deeper into the forest, talking, singing to each other, sharing their histories and legends, a powerful love develops between them, only increasing Walimai’s suffering; he knows that very soon, he must help her to leave the earth. Finally, they arrive at the appropriate site, and in the dense, black stillness of the jungle, Walimai begins the ritual fast.
As his strength slowly deteriorates, their spiritual connection weakens, and the woman’s soul begins to break away from his embrace. Days later, she takes her first steps alone, returning quickly but venturing farther out with each successive attempt. On the twelfth day of the fast, when the pain of their separation has reached a terrible intensity, Walimai dreams she is flying, soaring high above the forest canopy, and he wakes, his body shaken and nearly weightless. She is gone. All around him, the eternal forest waits in silence.
Walimai rises and walks for hours until he arrives at a small river. After snaring a fish, he goes to hunt, so as not to return to his village empty-handed.
Daria Binkowski, flute
Micah Heilbrunn, clarinet
Stephen Miahky, violin
Elinor Frey, violoncello
Sydney Hodkinson, conductor
Premiered July 14, 2005 by the Aspen Contemporary Ensemble, conducted by Sydney Hodkinson, Harris Hall, Aspen, CO
This work was inspired by thoughts and images of the Amazonian rainforest. The incredible profusion of life that exists in even the smallest segment of a rainforest suggested to me a music that was highly energetic and rhythmic from nearly start to finish. Something inhabits almost every square inch of the rainforest environment, and I’d like to imagine that my piece is a kind of dance music for all of those creatures, for everything that’s alive in the rainforest.
Near the end of the work, I attempted to translate into music the image of one lone bird bursting through the treetops and being able to float effortlessly above the canopy, looking down at the enormous sea of green below.Written for July/August 2003 productions by Shakespeare & Company, Lenox, Massachusetts
John Holland, violin
Chi-Yuan Chen, viola
Tomoko Fujita, violoncello
Jacob Greenberg, piano
First Prize & Audience Prize, Great Wall International Composition Competition, Chinese Fine Arts Society, 2006
Victor Herbert/ASCAP Young Composer Award, 2005
Morton Gould Young Composer Award, ASCAP, 2004
Commissioned by the Sylvan Quartet
Premiered in May 2003 by the Sylvan Quartet, Ann Arbor, MI
Of the many popular Chinese tales and legends associated with the Great Wall, one of the most beautiful and affecting must be the story of Meng Jiang Nu. During the reign of Emperor Qin Shi huangdi, many thousands of laborers were conscripted to aid in the construction of the Wall. When her husband was taken to join the workforce, Meng Jiang was crushed. She waited anxiously for some word from him, but nothing ever came. Slowly, the seasons passed; the flowers blossomed, withered and died. Winter came, and Meng Jiang had still received no news. And so she set off in search of her husband.
Meng Jiang left her home in Shaanxi province and headed north toward the cold border region where the Great Wall was being built. All alone, she traveled thousands of miles through the wilderness, crossing river after river and climbing mountain after mountain. Despite the enormous difficulty, she continued unwaveringly on her journey, led always onward by her sincere love and devotion to her husband. At last, she arrived at her destination: an enormous, snakelike construction that disappeared into the mountains. But her initial relief quickly gave way to anxiety, for when Meng Jiang asked every worker she met about her husband’s whereabouts, nobody seemed to know him. Day after day she persisted, and finally, she heard that he was working not far to the east. With great excitement, she hurried to meet him.
A tremendous shock awaited Meng Jiang upon her arrival at the worksite, where she learned that only days ago, her husband had died from the backbreaking toil. Grief-stricken, she let out a terrible cry, one filled with such bitter anguish that the sky turned black and the Great Wall itself shook and then shattered. Meng Jiang was left with an immense sadness.
News of the event reached the Qin court, and the Emperor himself demanded to see the woman responsible for the destruction. When he confronted her, he was so struck by her beauty that he ordered her to make a choice: she could remain with him as a lady of his court or be killed upon the spot. Meng Jiang, ever faithful to her husband, had an idea, and consented to stay upon three conditions: first, that her husband be given a state funeral, second, that all the military officers and officials of the court go into mourning, and finally, that the funeral ceremony itself take place on the shores of the Eastern Sea. The Emperor, pleased by Meng Jiang’s submission, agreed readily to her wishes.
The funeral was exactly as Meng Jiang had requested it. Behind a golden coffin followed the Emperor and all his ministers and generals, walking in formal procession to the cliff overlooking the Eastern Sea which Meng Jiang had chosen as the funeral site. When the ceremony was over, Meng Jiang thanked the Emperor and his court for their presence at the funeral, and, kneeling before the tomb, she prayed, “My husband, wait for me in the other world, so that we may go before the king of that place together.” Then she rose to her feet and jumped into the foaming sea.
The Great Wall, for all its majesty, stands today as a silent monument to the thousands of laborers who perished during its construction, working in a climate of terrible suffering, cruelty, and starvation. But it is also a powerful reminder of the great love of Meng Jiang Nu, whose absolute loyalty and courage in the face of tyranny has inspired people for many generations.Aglaope was one of the Sirens, creatures from Greek mythology who dwelt on the flowery island of Anthemoessa, where they lured men to their deaths with irresistible music – music so beautiful that passing sailors leapt from their ships or crashed heedlessly into the rocks surrounding the island in a desperate attempt to draw nearer. It was prophesied that when any ship was able to sail past the island without succumbing to the sweet song, the Sirens would leap into the sea and drown.
Odysseus is thought to be one of the only travelers who was able to hear the voices of the Sirens and yet withstand their deadly allure. By plugging his crew’s ears with beeswax and ordering himself bound to the mast of his ship so tightly that he could not move, Odysseus and his vessel sailed safely past Anthemoessa. The Sirens, defeated, flung themselves into the depths of the sea and perished.
Erik Rönmark, soprano saxophone
Jonathan Kammer, alto saxophone
Jacob Chmara, tenor saxophone
A.J. Lockwood, baritone saxophone
Morton Gould Young Composer Award, ASCAP, 2003
Premiered in November 2001 by Erik Rönmark, Jonathan Kammer, Jacob Chmara, A.J. Lockwood, Britton Recital Hall, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MISuite (2001)
bassoon, trombone, 13’
I. Andante rubato
II. Allegro vivace
III. Slow, lirico -- Presto
Premiered November 7, 2000 by Brave New Works (Maria Sampen, violin, Timothy Christie, viola, Andrea Yun, violoncello), Britton Recital Hall, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI
Boundaries (1999)
mixed chamber ensemble, 10’
Premiered in February 1999 by Kelly Crandell, flute, Bonnie Wagner, piano, Britton Recital Hall, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI