Matériel : Conducteur
SKU: CF.W2682
ISBN 9781491144954. UPC: 680160902453. 9 x 12 inches. Key: E major.
Edited by Elisa Koehler, Associate Professor and Chair of the Music Department at Goucher College, this new edition of Johann Nepomuk Hummel's Concerto in E Major for trumpet in E and piano presented in its original key.The concerto by Johann Nepomuk Hummel (1778–1837)holds a unique place in the trumpet repertoire. Like theconcerto by Joseph Haydn (1732–1809) it was written forthe Austrian trumpeter Anton Weidinger (1766–1852) andhis newly invented keyed trumpet, performed a few timesby Weidinger, and then forgotten for more than 150 yearsuntil it was revived in the twentieth century. But unlikeHaydn’s concerto in Eb major, Hummel’s Concerto a Trombaprincipale (1803) was written in the key of E major for atrumpet pitched in E, not E≤. This difference of key proved tobe quite a conundrum for trumpeters and music publishersin the twentieth century. The first modern edition, publishedby Fritz Stein in 1957, transposed the concerto down onehalf step into the key of E≤ to make it more playable on atrumpet in Bb, which had become the standard instrumentfor trumpeters by the middle of the twentieth century.Armando Ghitalla made the first recording of the Hummel in1964 in the original key of E (on a C-trumpet) after editinga performing edition in 1959 in the transposed key of E≤ (forBb trumpet) published by Robert King Music. Needless tosay, the trumpet had changed dramatically in terms of design,manufacture, and cultural status between 1803 and 1957, andthe notion of classical solo repertoire for the modern trumpetwas still in its formative stages when the Hummel concertowas reborn.These factors conspired to create confusion regarding thenumerous interpretative challenges involved in performingthe Hummel concerto according to the composer’s originalintentions on modern trumpets. For those seeking the bestscholarly information, a facsimile of Hummel’s originalmanuscript score was published in 2011 with a separatevolume of analytical commentary by Edward H. Tarr,1 whoalso published the first modern edition of the concertoin the original key of E major (Universal Edition, 1972).This present edition—available in both keys: Eb and Emajor—strives to build a bridge between scholarship andperformance traditions in order to provide viable options forboth the purist and the practitioner.Following the revival of the Haydn trumpet concerto, acase could be made that some musicians were influencedby a type of normalcy bias that resulted in performancetraditions that attempted to make the Hummel morelike the Haydn by putting it in the same key, insertingunnecessary cadenzas, and adding trills where they mightnot belong.2 Issues concerning tempo and ornamentationposed additional challenges. As scholarship and performancepractice surrounding the concerto have become betterknown, trumpeters have increasingly sought to performthe concerto in the original key of E major—sometimes onkeyed trumpets—and to reconsider more recent performancetraditions in the transposed key of Eb.Regardless of the key, several factors need to be addressedwhen performing the Hummel concerto. The most notoriousof these is the interpretation of the wavy line (devoid of a “tr†indication), which appears in the second movement(mm. 4–5 and 47–49) and in the finale (mm. 218–221). InHummel’s manuscript score, the wavy line resembles a sinewave with wide, gentle curves, rather than the tight, buzzingappearance of a traditional trill line. Some have argued that itmay indicate intense vibrato or a fluttering tremolo betweenopen and closed fingerings on a keyed trumpet.3 In Hummel’s1828 piano treatise, he wrote that a wavy line without a “trâ€sign indicates uneigentlichen Triller oder den getrillertenNoten [“improper†trills or the notes that are trilled], andrecommends that they be played as main note trills that arenot resolved [ohne Nachschlag].4 Hummel’s piano treatisewas published twenty-five years after he wrote the trumpetconcerto, and his advocacy for main note trills (rather thanupper note trills) was controversial at the time, so trumpetersshould consider all of the available options when formingtheir own interpretation of the wavy line.Unlike Haydn, Hummel did not include any fermatas wherecadenzas could be inserted in his trumpet concerto. The endof the first movement, in particular, includes something likean accompanied cadenza passage (mm. 273–298), a featureHummel also included at the end of the first movement ofhis Piano Concerto No. 5 in Ab Major, Op. 113 (1827). Thethird movement includes a quote (starting at m. 168) fromCherubini’s opera, Les Deux Journées (1802), that diverts therondo form into a coda replete with idiomatic fanfares andvirtuosic figuration.5 Again, no fermata appears to signal acadenza, but the obbligato gymnastics in the solo trumpetpart function like an accompanied cadenza.Other necessary considerations include tempo choicesand ornamentation. Hummel did not include metronomemarkings to quantify his desired tempi for the movements,but clues may be gleaned through the surface evidence(metric pulse, beat values, figuration) and from the stratifiedtempo table that Hummel included in his 1828 piano treatise,where the first movement’s “Allegro con spirito†is interpretedas faster than the “Allegro†(without a modifier) of the finale.6In the realm of ornamentation, Hummel includes severalturns and figures that are open to interpretation. This editionincludes Hummel’s original symbols (turns and figuration)along with suggested realizations to provide musicians withoptions for forming their own interpretation.Finally, trumpeters are encouraged to listen to Mozart pianoconcerti as an interpretive context for Hummel’s trumpetconcerto. Hummel was a noted piano virtuoso at the end ofthe Classical era, and he studied with Mozart in Vienna asa young boy. Hummel also composed his own cadenzas forsome of Mozart’s piano concerti, and the twenty-five-year-oldcompo ser imitated Mozart’s orchestral gestures and melodicfiguration in the trumpet concerto (most notably in the secondmovement, which resembles the famous slow movement ofMozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21 in C Major, K. 467).
SKU: CF.MXE219
ISBN 9781491157794. UPC: 680160916399. 9 x 12 inches.
Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about HoffmeisterAs awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterA3despite scruples about treading on hallowed groundA3I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak MozartAs language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialA3MozartAs friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such A!improvementsA(r)A3I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were MozartAs A!blueprintsA(r) of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to A!flesh outA(r) the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composerAs dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the A!rightA(r) one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my BognerAs CafA recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888A+-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as A!a kind of keyboard chamber music.A(r) Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: A!The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldA3the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.A(r) That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called A!the crowning work of its kindA(r) by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of MozartAs mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltoA3an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementAs declamatory A!opera chorusA(r) persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The A!love duetA(r) between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned A!duettingA(r) between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the AndanteAs middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8a time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the A!Swiss clockA(r) section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my A!newA(r) Mozart Quintet endeavorsA3and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. A3Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeisteris awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winterodespite scruples about treading on hallowed groundoI grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozartis language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic materialoMozartis friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such iimprovementsioI always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozartis iblueprintsi of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to iflesh outi the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composeris dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the irighti one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogneris CafE recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888n1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as ia kind of keyboard chamber music.i Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: iThe F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another worldothe world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.i That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martin Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called ithe crowning work of its kindi by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozartis mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di moltooan F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movementis declamatory iopera chorusi persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The ilove dueti between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned iduettingi between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andanteis middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8+time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the iSwiss clocki section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martin Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my inewi Mozart Quintet endeavorsoand most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. oCompiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.Preface In 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister's awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter--despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground--I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart's language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings. With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material--Mozart's friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such improvements--I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart's blueprints of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to flesh out the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer's dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the right one then became a most absorbing study. On the eve of releasing my Bogner's Cafe recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888-1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as a kind of keyboard chamber music. Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world--the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music. That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet. Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinu Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called the crowning work of its kind by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart's mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue. The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto--an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement's declamatory opera chorus persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro. The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E<= Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The love duet between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned duetting between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante's middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement. In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the Swiss clock section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability. I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinu Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my new Mozart Quintet endeavors--and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990. --Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallman by Hannah Woods Stallman, February 2, 2020.PrefaceIn 1990, during an intense rehearsal of a Mozart Quartet transcription for flute and strings by Franz Anton Hoffmeister, at the Marblehead Summer Music Festival, a disgruntled violist friend complained about Hoffmeister’s awkward string writing, suddenly daring me to create my own arrangement. I balked. But the following winter—despite scruples about treading on hallowed ground—I grew curious and began to experiment. Soon I was hooked on the challenge of learning to speak Mozart’s language with conviction. This fascination, encouraged by pianist Richard Goode and other Mozarteans, would eventually generate a total of thirty-nine recreations of Mozart piano sonatas as works for flute and strings.With zero tolerance for alteration of melodic or harmonic material—Mozart⠙s friend Hoffmeister had regrettably attempted such “improvements†—I always tried to envision what Mozart himself would have desired. Many of the sonatas can be heard as if they were Mozart’s “blueprints†of imagined chamber works. Hence my task was to “flesh out†the keyboard versions as Mozart might have done, had a commission or performance opportunity arisen. I spent hours pondering how Mozart might have set these sonatas in four- or five-part form, providing the needed textural or contrapuntal enhancements. With immersion in the composer’s dialect, various apt solutions presented themselves. The search for the “right†one then became a most absorbing study.On the eve of releasing my Bogner’s Café recording of Mozart-Stallman New Quintets (2006), I discovered to my delight that a prominent scholar had long before endorsed such an effort. Eric Blom (1888–1959), author of Mozart (1935), had taken note of the four-hand piano works as “a kind of keyboard chamber music.†Regarding Sonata, K. 497, Mr. Blom had observed that Mozart is often dealing with, not the expected four voices (one to a hand), but five. Blom states: “The F major Sonata (K. 497) removes us to another world—the world of the great chamber music, especially of the string quintets. Indeed an arrangement of some sort for a combination of instruments would make a magnificent concert work of this almost uncomfortably great piece of domestic music.†That Mozart was in 1786 writing for piano duo from a quintet perspective makes sense, as we find him returning to the quintet form with keen interest in his last years, writing four String Quintets, the Clarinet Quintet, rearranging a wind serenade for String Quintet, and leaving several other quintets incomplete. My arrangement presented here is made for flute and strings but is also intended for string quintet.Quintet in F Major for Flute and Strings, K. 497, was completed in 1999 and performed with the Martinů Quartet in the Czech Republic prior to recording it in 2004. Mozart had finished the original Sonata in F Major for Piano, Four-Hands, K. 497, on August 1, 1786. It shows the unmistakable influence of Figaro, completed and premiered exactly three months prior. As signaled by the imposing introductory Adagio, the conception is on a grand symphonic scale, all three movements being richly developed with contrapuntal episodes and an abundance of marvelously contrasting textures and themes throughout. Called “the crowning work of its kind†by Alfred Einstein, the Sonata is laden with examples of Mozart’s mercurial originality. Here we have a perfect synthesis of concertante brilliance, operatic intensity and intimate dialogue.The work opens in unison with a probing, minor-tinged Adagio, whose question comes to a pause on the dominant, before being answered with jaunty certainty by the opening theme of the Allegro di molto—an F-major tune as sunny and confident as an aria from Figaro itself. This movement’s declamatory “opera chorus†persistently intones its rhythmic motto over a swirling scale figure. The amorous second theme (initially presented in the first viola) also seems to be plucked from Figaro.The Andante opens with a heavenly melody, which takes as its springboard the Romanza theme from the Horn Concerto in E≤ Major, K. 495, written only five weeks before. The “love duet†between flute and first viola seems to anticipate the impassioned “duetting†between violin and viola in the Andante of the String Quintet in C Major, K. 515, written about nine months later. The ingenious stretto canon of the Andante’s middle section requires the precision of a Swiss clock (which its chiming thirds recall). Affecting bucolic codettas close each of the main sections of the movement.In the final Allegro, a rondo in 6/8 time, the puckish, yet aristocratic character of the opening theme contrasts with the bumptious, popular tune used for the second theme (heard first in the violin and then the flute, over pizzicato cello). Lilting hymn-like episodes in three, four- and finally five-part counterpoint are repeatedly interrupted by startling scale figures that rise up in furioso episodes throughout the movement. As in the “Swiss clock†section of the Andante, Mozart uses a stretto imitation treatment with this tempest theme, thereby heightening both intensity and sense of instability.I am most grateful to the adventuresome Martinů Quartet for their warm support and collaboration over the years with several of my arrangements, and to my friend Edwin Swanborn for the original typesetting of this score. Gratitude is also due Weekend Edition, Performance Today and innumerable classical stations across the United States for their enthusiastic and repeated airings of my “new†Mozart Quintet endeavors—and most of all, to violist Katherine Murdock for that dare in 1990.—Compiled from the writings of Robert Stallmanby Hannah Woods Stallman,February 2, 2020.
SKU: PR.160000280
ISBN 9781491137185. UPC: 680160034154.
SKU: HL.48181417
UPC: 888680855727. 9.0x12.0x0.114 inches.
Having won many prizes at the Paris Conservatoire during the 1920s-1930s, Eugene Bozza went on to conduct the orchestra of the Opera-Comique and to become Head of the Conservatoire in Valenciennes. As a major figure on the classical music frontline, Bozza's compositions were well-received by audiences, particularly those for wind instruments, and his Clarinet Concerto is no exception. This Bozza piece for Clarinet is expressive and virtuosic, displaying the entire range of the instrument, accompanied by an equally virtuosic Piano reduction. The Concerto comprises three movements and is one of 19 Concertos written by the composer. As music educationalist, Paul Griffiths has written of Bozza's compositions, his works reveal melodic fluency, elegance of structure and a consistenly sensitive concern of instrumental capabilities. Clarinet Concerto is a suitable and significant addition to the advanced clarinetist's repertoire..
SKU: HL.49046544
ISBN 9781705122655. UPC: 842819108726. 9.0x12.0x0.224 inches.
I composed the Piano Concerto in two stages: the first three movements during the years 1985-86, the next two in 1987, the final autograph of the last movement was ready by January, 1988. The concerto is dedicated to the American conductor Mario di Bonaventura. The markings of the movements are the following: 1. Vivace molto ritmico e preciso 2. Lento e deserto 3. Vivace cantabile 4. Allegro risoluto 5. Presto luminoso.The first performance of the three-movement Concerto was on October 23rd, 1986 in Graz. Mario di Bonaventura conducted while his brother, Anthony di Bonaventura, was the soloist. Two days later the performance was repeated in the Vienna Konzerthaus. After hearing the work twice, I came to the conclusion that the third movement is not an adequate finale; my feeling of form demanded continuation, a supplement. That led to the composing of the next two movements. The premiere of the whole cycle took place on February 29th, 1988, in the Vienna Konzerthaus with the same conductor and the same pianist. The orchestra consisted of the following: flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn, trumpet, tenor trombone, percussion and strings. The flautist also plays the piccoIo, the clarinetist, the alto ocarina. The percussion is made up of diverse instruments, which one musician-virtuoso can play. It is more practical, however, if two or three musicians share the instruments. Besides traditional instruments the percussion part calls also for two simple wind instruments: the swanee whistle and the harmonica. The string instrument parts (two violins, viola, cello and doubles bass) can be performed soloistic since they do not contain divisi. For balance, however, the ensemble playing is recommended, for example 6-8 first violins, 6-8 second, 4-6 violas, 4-6 cellos, 3-4 double basses. In the Piano Concerto I realized new concepts of harmony and rhythm. The first movement is entirely written in bimetry: simultaneously 12/8 and 4/4 (8/8). This relates to the known triplet on a doule relation and in itself is nothing new. Because, however, I articulate 12 triola and 8 duola pulses, an entangled, up till now unheard kind of polymetry is created. The rhythm is additionally complicated because of asymmetric groupings inside two speed layers, which means accents are asymmetrically distributed. These groups, as in the talea technique, have a fixed, continuously repeating rhythmic structures of varying lengths in speed layers of 12/8 and 4/4. This means that the repeating pattern in the 12/8 level and the pattern in the 4/4 level do not coincide and continuously give a kaleidoscope of renewing combinations. In our perception we quickly resign from following particular rhythmical successions and that what is going on in time appears for us as something static, resting. This music, if it is played properly, in the right tempo and with the right accents inside particular layers, after a certain time 'rises, as it were, as a plane after taking off: the rhythmic action, too complex to be able to follow in detail, begins flying. This diffusion of individual structures into a different global structure is one of my basic compositional concepts: from the end of the fifties, from the orchestral works Apparitions and Atmospheres I continuously have been looking for new ways of resolving this basic question. The harmony of the first movement is based on mixtures, hence on the parallel leading of voices. This technique is used here in a rather simple form; later in the fourth movement it will be considerably developed. The second movement (the only slow one amongst five movements) also has a talea type of structure, it is however much simpler rhythmically, because it contains only one speed layer. The melody is consisted in the development of a rigorous interval mode in which two minor seconds and one major second alternate therefore nine notes inside an octave. This mode is transposed into different degrees and it also determines the harmony of the movement; however, in closing episode in the piano part there is a combination of diatonics (white keys) and pentatonics (black keys) led in brilliant, sparkling quasimixtures, while the orchestra continues to play in the nine tone mode. In this movement I used isolated sounds and extreme registers (piccolo in a very low register, bassoon in a very high register, canons played by the swanee whistle, the alto ocarina and brass with a harmon-mute' damper, cutting sound combinations of the piccolo, clarinet and oboe in an extremely high register, also alternating of a whistle-siren and xylophone). The third movement also has one speed layer and because of this it appears as simpler than the first, but actually the rhythm is very complicated in a different way here. Above the uninterrupted, fast and regular basic pulse, thanks to the asymmetric distribution of accents, different types of hemiolas and inherent melodical patterns appear (the term was coined by Gerhard Kubik in relation to central African music). If this movement is played with the adequate speed and with very clear accentuation, illusory rhythmic-melodical figures appear. These figures are not played directly; they do not appear in the score, but exist only in our perception as a result of co-operation of different voices. Already earlier I had experimented with illusory rhythmics, namely in Poeme symphonique for 100 metronomes (1962), in Continuum for harpsichord (1968), in Monument for two pianos (1976), and especially in the first and sixth piano etude Desordre and Automne a Varsovie (1985). The third movement of the Piano Concerto is up to now the clearest example of illusory rhythmics and illusory melody. In intervallic and chordal structure this movement is based on alternation, and also inter-relation of various modal and quasi-equidistant harmony spaces. The tempered twelve-part division of the octave allows for diatonical and other modal interval successions, which are not equidistant, but are based on the alternation of major and minor seconds in different groups. The tempered system also allows for the use of the anhemitonic pentatonic scale (the black keys of the piano). From equidistant scales, therefore interval formations which are based on the division of an octave in equal distances, the twelve-tone tempered system allows only chromatics (only minor seconds) and the six-tone scale (the whole-tone: only major seconds). Moreover, the division of the octave into four parts only minor thirds) and three parts (three major thirds) is possible. In several music cultures different equidistant divisions of an octave are accepted, for example, in the Javanese slendro into five parts, in Melanesia into seven parts, popular also in southeastern Asia, and apart from this, in southern Africa. This does not mean an exact equidistance: there is a certain tolerance for the inaccurateness of the interval tuning. These exotic for us, Europeans, harmony and melody have attracted me for several years. However I did not want to re-tune the piano (microtone deviations appear in the concerto only in a few places in the horn and trombone parts led in natural tones). After the period of experimenting, I got to pseudo- or quasiequidistant intervals, which is neither whole-tone nor chromatic: in the twelve-tone system, two whole-tone scales are possible, shifted a minor second apart from each other. Therefore, I connect these two scales (or sound resources), and for example, places occur where the melodies and figurations in the piano part are created from both whole tone scales; in one band one six-tone sound resource is utilized, and in the other hand, the complementary. In this way whole-tonality and chromaticism mutually reduce themselves: a type of deformed equidistancism is formed, strangely brilliant and at the same time slanting; illusory harmony, indeed being created inside the tempered twelve-tone system, but in sound quality not belonging to it anymore. The appearance of such slantedequidistant harmony fields alternating with modal fields and based on chords built on fifths (mainly in the piano part), complemented with mixtures built on fifths in the orchestra, gives this movement an individual, soft-metallic colour (a metallic sound resulting from harmonics). The fourth movement was meant to be the central movement of the Concerto. Its melodc-rhythmic elements (embryos or fragments of motives) in themselves are simple. The movement also begins simply, with a succession of overlapping of these elements in the mixture type structures. Also here a kaleidoscope is created, due to a limited number of these elements - of these pebbles in the kaleidoscope - which continuously return in augmentations and diminutions. Step by step, however, so that in the beginning we cannot hear it, a compiled rhythmic organization of the talea type gradually comes into daylight, based on the simultaneity of two mutually shifted to each other speed layers (also triplet and duoles, however, with different asymmetric structures than in the first movement). While longer rests are gradually filled in with motive fragments, we slowly come to the conclusion that we have found ourselves inside a rhythmic-melodical whirl: without change in tempo, only through increasing the density of the musical events, a rotation is created in the stream of successive and compiled, augmented and diminished motive fragments, and increasing the density suggests acceleration. Thanks to the periodical structure of the composition, always new but however of the same (all the motivic cells are similar to earlier ones but none of them are exactly repeated; the general structure is therefore self-similar), an impression is created of a gigantic, indissoluble network. Also, rhythmic structures at first hidden gradually begin to emerge, two independent speed layers with their various internal accentuations. This great, self-similar whirl in a very indirect way relates to musical associations, which came to my mind while watching the graphic projection of the mathematical sets of Julia and of Mandelbrot made with the help of a computer. I saw these wonderful pictures of fractal creations, made by scientists from Brema, Peitgen and Richter, for the first time in 1984. From that time they have played a great role in my musical concepts. This does not mean, however, that composing the fourth movement I used mathematical methods or iterative calculus; indeed, I did use constructions which, however, are not based on mathematical thinking, but are rather craftman's constructions (in this respect, my attitude towards mathematics is similar to that of the graphic artist Maurits Escher). I am concerned rather with intuitional, poetic, synesthetic correspondence, not on the scientific, but on the poetic level of thinking. The fifth, very short Presto movement is harmonically very simple, but all the more complicated in its rhythmic structure: it is based on the further development of ''inherent patterns of the third movement. The quasi-equidistance system dominates harmonically and melodically in this movement, as in the third, alternating with harmonic fields, which are based on the division of the chromatic whole into diatonics and anhemitonic pentatonics. Polyrhythms and harmonic mixtures reach their greatest density, and at the same time this movement is strikingly light, enlightened with very bright colours: at first it seems chaotic, but after listening to it for a few times it is easy to grasp its content: many autonomous but self-similar figures which crossing themselves. I present my artistic credo in the Piano Concerto: I demonstrate my independence from criteria of the traditional avantgarde, as well as the fashionable postmodernism. Musical illusions which I consider to be also so important are not a goal in itself for me, but a foundation for my aesthetical attitude. I prefer musical forms which have a more object-like than processual character. Music as frozen time, as an object in imaginary space evoked by music in our imagination, as a creation which really develops in time, but in imagination it exists simultaneously in all its moments. The spell of time, the enduring its passing by, closing it in a moment of the present is my main intention as a composer. (Gyorgy Ligeti).
Kohaut was a contemporary of Dittersdorf, Vanhal and Hoffmeister. This three movement concerto, published here for the first time, offers musical and technical challenges of Grade 8 standard and above. Scored for Double Basswith a Piano reduction of the original Orchestral Score
SKU: HL.50601598
8.0x11.75 inches.
The catalogue of Edison Denisov's works includes 16 concertos. It was a genre to which he returned time and again throughout his life, from the Concerto for Cello and Orchestra of 1972 to the Double Concerto for Flute, Clarinet and Orchestra of 1996.In Denisov's music the role of the soloist, or rather the protagonist, is extraordinarily important, not so much for its virtuosity as for its confessional character. The solo part is a monologue distinguished by poetic diction and a very personal message from thecomposer. The dramaturgical conception of the Concerto for Saxophone and Orchestra, a reworking of the Viola Concerto of 1986, draws on traditional sonata form, thereby reaffirming the ubiquitous classicism in Denisov's thought. In this late work, we find all the typical features of his style: sinuous melodic lines layered into dense contrapuntal textures, and an interplay of orchestral colours, with pure sonorities contrasting with complex mixtures of sounds. It is a perfect dramaturgy that governs the evolution of the music to the very end. The first movement assumes the role of a sonata-allegro, with the standard formal sections of exposition, development,recapitulatio n and coda. The second movement is an Adagio for strings. The third takes the form of a little contrasting intermezzo that introduces both new thematic material and a new range of colours. Here tunefulness gives way to pointillism enriched with soniceffects. The only movement with a virtuosic solo part, its nervousness and inner tension set it worlds apart from the second and fourth movements that surround it. The fourth movement assumes the traditional form of a final set of variations. It is the dramaturgical and semantic heart of the concerto. The theme of the variations is Franz Schubert's Impromptu in B-flat major, op. 142, which in this case is 'born' from the celesta as the product of a dodecaphonic string cluster. This finale represents Denisov's homage to his great mentor, Schubert's music being for him a symbol of eternal and universal beauty. 'The attentive listener', Denisov stressed, 'will recognise that the Impromptu theme is already suggested very slowly in the course of the three preceding movements, not only thematically, but also psychologically. That's what makes the appearance of the Schubert theme sound so natural.' The variations relate to the variation genre less in their form than in their spiritual and conceptual metamorphoses. It is, one might say, 'music round about Schubert'. (Ekaterina Kouprovskaia-Denisova).
SKU: HL.14008425
ISBN 9780711933545.
Davi es's feeling for the potency and bravura of the clarinet goes back to works of the 1960s; his concerto for the instrument is predictably a big, ranging piece, in two linked movements. The first, fast with a brief slow introduction, has the soloist in propulsive melodic flights slipping over into florid runs, but it is a virtuoso piece for the orchestra, especially for the marimba and pair of horns. The Adagio that follows is in the spare, cold, birdcall-riven style of other recent Davies slow movements, exploiting first the clarinet's low register and then, at its climax, the instrument's high extremes. A cadenza leads to the coda, where Davies introduces a Scots tune, previously hinted at, with which he brings the work to an end in F sharp major. Clarinet part with piano reduction of the orchestral score.
SKU: BR.OB-4867-16
ISBN 9790004323304. 10 x 12.5 inches.
Carl Maria von Weber wrote the present concerto in 1811 for the Munich bassoon player Georg Friedrich Brandt. The date of the world premiere is not known; what is ascertained, however, is a performance in Prague on 19 February 1813 by Brandt, to whom the work was dedicated.Along with Mozarts B-flat major Concerto K. 191 (186e), Webers bassoon concerto is one of the most popular and frequently played concertos for this low woodwind instrument. Weber illustrates the instruments qualities by using a different form in each movement, as we can see in its primary themes: the opening movement is dominated by a rhythmically striking theme; cantabile passages set the tone for the more lightly scored Adagio; and in the closing Rondo. Allegro, the soloist can demonstrate his virtuosity from the very beginning through large intervallic leaps and rapid runs.Along with Mozart's B-flat major Concerto K. 191 (186e), Weber's bassoon concerto is one of the most popular and frequently played concertos for this low woodwind instrument.
SKU: BR.OB-4867-26
ISBN 9790004323328. 10 x 12.5 inches.
SKU: BR.OB-4867-19
ISBN 9790004323311. 10 x 12.5 inches.
SKU: PR.11641373S
UPC: 680160680344.
The concerto has always seemed an especially attractive medium to me, not necessarily because of its expectations of virtuosity (although flaunting it when you've got it certainly has its place), and emphatically not because of the perception of a concerto as a contest, but because so much of what I write feels song-like; I'm very much at home with the age-old texture of melody and accompaniment. I hope, before I move on, to have the opportunity to write concertos for all the major instruments, and perhaps some of the rarer ones as well. The oboe is not only one of the major instruments, it is one of my favorite instruments. I've always loved its sound, but since moving to New York I have gotten to hear and, in some cases, know some extremely fine oboists who broadened my appreciation of the instrument's possibilities. I especially remember a concert, probably in the late 1960's, in which Humbert Lucarelli played a Handel concerto, filling out large melodic leaps with cascading scale passages in a way that raised the hair on the back of your neck, somewhat in the way that John Coltrane's sheets of sound did. The sweeping scales in the second movement of my concerto were definitely inspired by Bert Lucarelli's performance. The first, third and fifth movements of the Concerto for Oboe and Orchestra are song-like, whereas the second and fourth have strong scherzo and dance qualities, including a couple of sections that sound like out-and-out pirate dances to me. The hymn-like tune at the beginning of the middle movement was originally begun as a vocal piece to be sung by my wife, son and daughter at my brother's wedding, but I couldn't come up with good works for it, so it ended up as an instrumental chant. The opening and closing of the concerto make use of the oboe's uniquely soulful singing. I had not heard Pamela Woods Pecha's solo playing in person when she approached me about writing a concerto, but I had heard her fine recording of chamber music for oboe and strings by the three B's (English, that is: Bliss, Bax and Britten) with the Audubon Quartet. I actually already had some oboe concerto ideas in my sketchbooks; although I didn't end up using any of those earlier ideas, it's interesting that most of them tended to share the general feeling and tonality of the eventual opening of the concerto. The work was completed on October 13, 1994. I hate the compromises involved in making piano reductions -- perhaps I would feel differently if I were a more accomplished pianist -- so I often decide to make piano reductions for four hands rather than two. My good friend Jon Kimura Parker is a terrific sight-reader, and I roped him into coming over to my place on February 17, 1995, to help me accompany Pamela on the first read-through of the piece. The first performance of the work took place on July 21, 1995, at the American Music Festival in Duncan, Oklahoma, with Mark Parker conducting the Festival Orchestra.
SKU: PR.11641373L
UPC: 680160680337.
