Free to Solo Alto Saxophone

SKU: HL.48183265

UPC: 888680788070. 9x12 inches.

Improvis ations by Ryo Noda is a set of two pieces for solo alto saxophone. Dedicated to Jean Marie Londeix, these pieces over 2 pages are written to give the player freedom of improvisation. This score only features Improvisations 2 and 3. Improvisations 1 exists as a separate volume. Ryo Noda is a Japanese saxophonist with experience in all genres: classical, romantic, and baroque, among others. He is also known for his improvisatory work.

SKU: HL.49045875

The Catalan composer and vihuela player Luis de Milan (1500-1561) ranks among the most important composers of the Spanish Renaissance. His collection El Maestro from 1536 was the first publication of vihuela music in music history (the vihuela is a predecessor of the guitar). The six pavans contained therein are typical examples of the stately processional dance. According to the etymological derivation of'pavo' (Spanish/Latin: 'peacock'), this characteristic bird call which can be performed freely and naturalistically by the saxophoneplayer can sometimes be heard in this 'peacock's dance'. World premiere: 15.2.2017 Ballhaus Berlin, with Domiki Wollenweber (cor anglais) and the saxophone quartet CLAIR OBSCUR. Also published by Schott: a version for alto saxophone (cor anglais) and organ (ED 21260).

SKU: KN.KEN10353

UPC: 822795103533.

This exciting new collection contains 8 grade 3-4 pieces for instrumental solo with piano accompaniment. Free MP3 downloads of the piano accompaniment are available at kendormusic.com. Many of the titles have been published as single pieces and are listed on several state contest lists.

Contents:Mozart Sonatina; Essay In Blue (Edmondson); Harlequinade (Niehaus); Seaside Images (Niehaus); Sonata No. 11 (Haydn); Notturno (Hofmann); Air For Alto (Frackenpohl); The Entertainer (Joplin).

SKU: HL.48186442

UPC: 888680829957. 9x12 inches.

“Prem iered in 2013, Sweet And Go for solo Saxophone elegantly explores the poetic and technical resources of the instrument Armando Ghidoni knows so well (Concerto pour saxophone et orchestre à cordes; Concerto Grosso pour saxophone alto, piano et orchestre). The diptych, approximately five minutes in length, opens with an Adagio, a free deEclamation in recitative that is an oasis of tenderness to which the glissandi bring a whiff of the Orient. In contrast to this voluptuous dream, the second section, marked Vivo brilante ben ritmato, allows the soloist to display a sparkling virtuosity ' slaps included! ' without betraying the underlying spirit of improvisation. Melodies, rhythms, nuances and colours all contribute to this festival of ingenuity.&rdquo.

SKU: AP.1-ADV7675

UPC: 805095076752. English.

This suite was inspired most notably by the saxophone quartets of Phil Woods and was written in a conscious attempt to wed certain stylistic elements of classical and jazz music. The players are not asked to improvise, but the piece does feature sections that sound spontaneous and freely created. The piece is difficult, but no more so than other quartets, like Glazunov and Desenclos, that are standard repertoire for this instrumentation. Talented high school and all college groups will find success working on this piece. Soft Shadows of the Night features the alto saxophone in a quasi Bolero setting. The piece conveys a feeling of a big city in the tranquil pre-dawn hours---hence the title. Arranged for saxophone quartet (SATBar).

SKU: 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.

SKU: 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.

SKU: 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.

SKU: PR.16500104F

ISBN 9781491132159. UPC: 680160681082.

Ever since the success of my series of wind ensemble works Places in the West, I've been wanting to write a companion piece for national parks on the other side of the north American continent. The earlier work, consisting of GLACIER, THE YELLOWSTONE FIRES, ARCHES, and ZION, spanned some twenty years of my composing life, and since the pieces called for differing groups of instruments, and were in slightly different styles from each other, I never considered them to be connected except in their subject matter. In their depiction of both the scenery and the human history within these wondrous places, they had a common goal: awaking the listener to the fragile beauty that is in them; and calling attention to the ever more crucial need for preservation and protection of these wild places, unique in all the world. With this new work, commissioned by a consortium of college and conservatory wind ensembles led by the University of Georgia, I decided to build upon that same model---but to solidify the process. The result, consisting of three movements (each named for a different national park in the eastern US), is a bona-fide symphony. While the three pieces could be performed separately, they share a musical theme---and also a common style and instrumentation. It is a true symphony, in that the first movement is long and expository, the second is a rather tightly structured scherzo-with-trio, and the finale is a true culmination of the whole. The first movement, Everglades, was the original inspiration for the entire symphony. Conceived over the course of two trips to that astonishing place (which the native Americans called River of Grass, the subtitle of this movement), this movement not only conveys a sense of the humid, lush, and even frightening scenery there---but also an overview of the entire settling-of- Florida experience. It contains not one, but two native American chants, and also presents a view of the staggering influence of modern man on this fragile part of the world. Beginning with a slow unfolding marked Heavy, humid, the music soon presents a gentle, lyrical theme in the solo alto saxophone. This theme, which goes through three expansive phrases with breaks in between, will appear in all three movements of the symphony. After the mood has been established, the music opens up to a rich, warm setting of a Cherokee morning song, with the simple happiness that this part of Florida must have had prior to the nineteenth century. This music, enveloping and comforting, gradually gives way to a more frenetic, driven section representative of the intrusion of the white man. Since Florida was populated and developed largely due to the introduction of a train system, there's a suggestion of the mechanized iron horse driving straight into the heartland. At that point, the native Americans become considerably less gentle, and a second chant seems to stand in the way of the intruder; a kind of warning song. The second part of this movement shows us the great swampy center of the peninsula, with its wildlife both in and out of the water. A new theme appears, sad but noble, suggesting that this land is precious and must be protected by all the people who inhabit it. At length, the morning song reappears in all its splendor, until the sunset---with one last iteration of the warning song in the solo piccolo. Functioning as a scherzo, the second movement, Great Smoky Mountains, describes not just that huge park itself, but one brave soul's attempt to climb a mountain there. It begins with three iterations of the UR-theme (which began the first movement as well), but this time as up-tempo brass fanfares in octaves. Each time it begins again, the theme is a little slower and less confident than the previous time---almost as though the hiker were becoming aware of the daunting mountain before him. But then, a steady, quick-pulsed ostinato appears, in a constantly shifting meter system of 2/4- 3/4 in alteration, and the hike has begun. Over this, a slower new melody appears, as the trek up the mountain progresses. It's a big mountain, and the ascent seems to take quite awhile, with little breaks in the hiker's stride, until at length he simply must stop and rest. An oboe solo, over several free cadenza-like measures, allows us (and our friend the hiker) to catch our breath, and also to view in the distance the rocky peak before us. The goal is somehow even more daunting than at first, being closer and thus more frighteningly steep. When we do push off again, it's at a slower pace, and with more careful attention to our footholds as we trek over broken rocks. Tantalizing little views of the valley at every switchback make our determination even stronger. Finally, we burst through a stand of pines and----we're at the summit! The immensity of the view is overwhelming, and ultimately humbling. A brief coda, while we sit dazed on the rocks, ends the movement in a feeling of triumph. The final movement, Acadia, is also about a trip. In the summer of 2014, I took a sailing trip with a dear friend from North Haven, Maine, to the southern coast of Mt. Desert Island in Acadia National Park. The experience left me both exuberant and exhausted, with an appreciation for the ocean that I hadn't had previously. The approach to Acadia National Park by water, too, was thrilling: like the difference between climbing a mountain on foot with riding up on a ski-lift, I felt I'd earned the right to be there. The music for this movement is entirely based on the opening UR-theme. There's a sense of the water and the mysterious, quiet deep from the very beginning, with seagulls and bell buoys setting the scene. As we leave the harbor, the theme (in a canon between solo euphonium and tuba) almost seems as if large subaquatic animals are observing our departure. There are three themes (call them A, B and C) in this seafaring journey---but they are all based on the UR theme, in its original form with octaves displaced, in an upside-down form, and in a backwards version as well. (The ocean, while appearing to be unchanging, is always changing.) We move out into the main channel (A), passing several islands (B), until we reach the long draw that parallels the coastline called Eggemoggin Reach, and a sudden burst of new speed (C). Things suddenly stop, as if the wind had died, and we have a vision: is that really Mt. Desert Island we can see off the port bow, vaguely in the distance? A chorale of saxophones seems to suggest that. We push off anew as the chorale ends, and go through all three themes again---but in different instrumentations, and different keys. At the final tack-turn, there it is, for real: Mt. Desert Island, big as life. We've made it. As we pull into the harbor, where we'll secure the boat for the night, there's a feeling of achievement. Our whale and dolphin friends return, and we end our journey with gratitude and celebration. I am profoundly grateful to Jaclyn Hartenberger, Professor of Conducting at the University of Georgia, for leading the consortium which provided the commissioning of this work.

SKU: ET.TU132D

ISBN 9790207020833.

3 Dances is a Suite in three movements for 2 solo tubas and big band (2 alto saxophones, tenor saxophone, bariton saxophone, 4 trumpets, horn in F, 3 trombones, bass trombone, xylophone, vibraphone, marimba, piano, bass guitar, drum set) written in 3 movements.
It is a typical example of the versatile composing talent of Roland Szentpali. His approach to jazz is well structured, with subtle fast or slow groovy sequences of the different instrumental and rhythm sections, stimulating (and how !) the two solo tubas interacting with each other.
I. Blow On Fire starts with a free cadenza that is an introduction merging into fast elements which appear all along this movement. The two tubas start to play once the melodic elements burn, and from then develop their own dynamic shifts.
II. Oriental Flavors is another kind of groove (as the movement title suggests), beginning with a short opening of the trombone section falling into secco rhythm that beats in contrasts with the stimulating lyrical intervention by the two tubists.
III. Cinder Dance has a specific introduction that leads the musicians and the audience on the path of various trances over several uneven time signatures. At a certain point, the 2 tubas fly through cadencial sequences just over the rhythm section, before ending on a long collective and steamy final progression.

World premiere and recording premiere: May 13-14, 2017 in the L. Austin Weeks Center for Recording and Performance at the Frost School of Music, University of Miami - Coral Gables, Florida, USA with the award winning Frost Concert Jazz Band conducted by John Daversa, and soloists Aaron Tindall and Roland Szentpali on tuba.

SKU: ET.TU132C

ISBN 9790207020826.

3 Dances is a Suite in three movements for 2 solo tubas and big band (2 alto saxophones, tenor saxophone, bariton saxophone, 4 trumpets, horn in F, 3 trombones, bass trombone, xylophone, vibraphone, marimba, piano, bass guitar, drum set) written in 3 movements.
It is a typical example of the versatile composing talent of Roland Szentpali. His approach to jazz is well structured, with subtle fast or slow groovy sequences of the different instrumental and rhythm sections, stimulating (and how !) the two solo tubas interacting with each other.
I. Blow On Fire starts with a free cadenza that is an introduction merging into fast elements which appear all along this movement. The two tubas start to play once the melodic elements burn, and from then develop their own dynamic shifts.
II. Oriental Flavors is another kind of groove (as the movement title suggests), beginning with a short opening of the trombone section falling into secco rhythm that beats in contrasts with the stimulating lyrical intervention by the two tubists.
III. Cinder Dance has a specific introduction that leads the musicians and the audience on the path of various trances over several uneven time signatures. At a certain point, the 2 tubas fly through cadencial sequences just over the rhythm section, before ending on a long collective and steamy final progression.

World premiere and recording premiere: May 13-14, 2017 in the L. Austin Weeks Center for Recording and Performance at the Frost School of Music, University of Miami - Coral Gables, Florida, USA with the award winning Frost Concert Jazz Band conducted by John Daversa, and soloists Aaron Tindall and Roland Szentpali on tuba.

SKU: MH.0-931329-53-1

ISBN 9780931329531.

Jour ney back to ancient Greece and view a place of long-gone legend. Follow the trail to the Kingdom of Ithaca, from the heroic palace, to a place of tranquility, to a reckless dance of abandon, to the return of Odysseus. The melodic material used in 200 B.C. is from a two thousand year old Greek hymn to Apollo. The legendary adventures of Odysseus as described by Homer in the Odyssey (ca. 700 B.C.) provide the programmatic material. The music is freely based upon the First Delphic Hymn (or Paen to Apollo), composed ca. 200 B.C. The source is a transcription appearing on pages 363 - 367 of Ancient and Oriental Music, Edited by Egon Wellesz (Oxford University Press: London, 1957). Each movement of the work depicts a key event in the epic Homeric poem, as described below. Movement I: Intrada - The first four notes of this movement, C - Bb - G - Bb, are the melodic and harmonic foundation for the entire work. These pitches, introduced in a simple and direct manner, are subsequently developed in more complex fashions throughout the suite. Following this stately introduction is a militaristic fanfare that introduces the dotted-eighth and sixteenth-note figure later reprised in the second and fourth movements. Indeed, all the musical ideas which will be central to the remaining movements first appear in the Intrada. This movement depicts the grandeur of Odysseus and his kingdom in Ithaca, and establishes the heroic mood of the entire work. Movement II: Ballad - After a brief restatement of the opening dotted-eighth-and-sixteen th fanfare, the second movement extracts the falling third (Bb to G) from the C - Bb - G - Bb motif and extends it and expands it into a haunting solo for alto saxophone. The C - Bb - G - Bb motif appears again (see measures 23 - 33 in trumpets) as counterpoint to this melody, now pulsing through the thick texture of the band. Many performers have come to view the Ballad as the emotional epicenter of the entire suite; my conception of the Ballad is to achieve a union of pathos and strength. Programmatically, this movement depicts Odysseus's son, Telemachos, as he both longs for Odysseus's return and stoically defends his father's kingdom. Movement III: Dance - It will take Odysseus twenty years to return to Ithaca. During his absence, noblemen besiege his palace, violating the sanctity of the household and seeking the hand of his wife, Penelope. This movement depicts the wanton revelries that result. The original four-note motif is chromatically altered and the meter is made irregular. The rapid tempo, driving percussion, and angular meter and melodies combine in an explosion of reckless abandon. Movement IV: March Building from a delicate woodwind ensemble accompanied by finger cymbals to a fully orchestrated statement replete with thundering percussion, this is a resounding march of victory. Odysseus has returned in triumph to restore dignity to his household and to reclaim the throne of the Kingdom of Ithaca. Ensemble instrumentation: 1 Piccolo, 8 Flute 1 - 2, 2 Oboe 1 - 2, 4 Bb Clarinet 1, 4 Bb Clarinet 2, 4 Bb Clarinet 3, 1 Eb Alto Clarinet, 3 Bb Bass Clarinet, 2 Bassoon 1 - 2, 3 Eb Alto Saxophone 1, 3 Eb Alto Saxophone 2, 2 Bb Tenor Saxophone, 1 Eb Baritone Saxophone, 3 Bb Trumpet 1, 3 Bb Trumpet 2, 3 Bb Trumpet 3, 2 F Horn 1-2, 2 F Horn 3-4, 2 Trombone 1, 2 Trombone 2, 2 Trombone 3, 3 Euphonium (B.C.), 2 Euphonium T.C., 4 Tuba, 1 Timpani, 2 Mallet Percussion: Bells, Xylophone, 2 Percussion 1: Snare Drum, Tambourine, 2 Percussion 2: Crash Cymbals, Suspended Cymbal, Tom-Tom, Finger Cymbals, 1 Percussion 3: Bass Drum.