We Have All the Time in the World is the classic James Bond theme featuring the warm, graceful vocals of Louis Armstrong. Beloved for its sophisticated, smooth sound, the track - written by John Barry and Hal David - has transcended its tie to cinema, becoming one of the most requested songs at weddings, anniversaries and other celebrations. This brand new arrangement by Thomas Lydon for SATB choir brings this standard to the Novello Choral Pops series - the perfect number for choirs seeking a stylish, soulful number to add to their repertoire. / Choeur Mixte (SATB) Et Piano
SKU: FP.FBS03
ISBN 9790570500192.
Sarah Baker is Vocal Composer in Residence at Education Music Services, an ABRSM examiner and a well known composer of songs and musicals for primary schools and massed-choral events.All this experience has come together in the creation of this album of piano pieces, inspired by growing up in the Chiltern Hills. Suitable for players of around grade 4-5 standard, her evocative sound pieces describe a crash-landing hot air balloon, garden invading cows and a even a snake in a pond!Air Balloon!: One vivid memory I have as a child is of the day that a hot air balloon passed over our house and made an emergency landing on the road in front! The sound of the gas being blown into the balloon to try to keep it high enough to pass the house sounded so loud and intimidating, and then there was the bustle of the neighbours as we all went out into the street to watch. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to watch the balloon float past and then land so near by.Buzzards Circling: There is something so calming and restful about watching birds of prey circling in the thermal currents of a summer sky. Growing up in the Chilterns gave me plenty of opportunity to watch buzzards and red kites. This piano solo captures the beauty of their flight as they glide so effortlessly through the air.There’s A Cow In The Garden Eating The Flowers: Inspired by the memory of seeing an unexpected cow in the garden! This surreal image is captured in a quirky waltz, as I portray both the absurdity of the moment and the sense of wonder I felt as a child, looking out of the window and seeing the cow walking round and eating the flowers. The final phrase articulates my longing: ‘I wish it would come again’.Watching The World Go By: A short, reflective piece, remembering what it was like to have time to just sit and watch the world go by from my bedroom window.Autumn Skies: A miniature about the beauty of Autumn skies and the poignant sense of loss for a summer gone. Friends I was fortunate to have several children of my own age living close by. We seemed to be forever making dens, playing out in the street and generally enjoying each other’s company. This piece reflects that sense of well-being.Snake In The Pond: One hot summer I was astonished and scared to see a grass snake cooling off in our garden pond! I watched, both horrified and fascinated, as it rose up from the depths and then disappeared again. Here I portray the sense of the hazy summer afternoon as I peacefully watched the tiny movements of fish in the pond, contrasted with the fear and excitement of seeing the snake appear.Morning Commute: I recollect many mornings stuck in traffic as my Dad took me to school on his way to work. There is one main road out of the village where I grew up, and that got more and more congested the closer we got to the town. We may not have chatted a lot, but it was always good to be together with my Dad, lost in our own thoughts.The Witch’s Cottage: My siblings and I had a fascination with a small cottage nearby. It was set back from the road in a dark part of the woods and we called it 'the witch's cottage’. Every time we passed, I imagined I heard the distant cackle of the witch and wished I could catch a glimpse of her.These pieces are written to complement my other collection, Night Time Impressions, which also draw on childhood recollections, particularly of the woods behind the house where I grew up. - Sarah Baker 2023.
SKU: PR.114420410
UPC: 680160687015.
In one of the dedicatory poems to his verse play The Shadowy Waters (1906), William Butler Yeats asks: Is Eden far away...? Do our woods and winds and verponds cover more quiet woods, More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds? Is Eden out of time and out of space? How do you answer such questions? We have only the vague elusive promptings of our own mysterious, troubled hearts to tell us that the Eden we long for is there, somewhere beyond the physical world which frames our existence, in another realm of different dimensions. And - what is most painful to admit - that it is closed to us in the form in which we live and breathe, even if at times we do have intimations..., Yeats is telling us that this paradise, this Eden we yearn for is here - present even if invisible, palpable even if intangible. In his Second Symphony, Mahler meets an angel who tells him he can't get into heaven, he's locked out. The news is shattering. What follows is an inconsolable sorrowing, the same sorrowing that comes when we wake to the realization that we too are locked out of Eden. Eden is the heaven of our longing and desire for release from pain and suffering. Eden is the image in our restive minds that reflects the reconciled, resolved, quiescent state of soul we hunger for. But Eden eludes -because it is not a place. It is a state of soul which answers none of the illusory, hampering conditions that shape and bind us to the real world of our bodies, our appetites, our passions, and our beliefs. I have turned Yeats' question Is Eden out of time and out of space? into its own answering. However near we may sense its presence at times, Eden remains unreachable, ungraspable, unknowable, unthinkable. It forever eludes us. I wrote this music the way I did to shut out -with quietness and otherworldliness - the clamor and clang of the raucous Garish Day, to turn away its tumult and noise, to negate its stridency and chaos. Perhaps in the cleansing stillness and blessing of this emptied-out state of soul, Eden, through still hidden, may not be so far way; though still unreachable, may be close enough almost to touch.In one of the dedicatory poems to his verse play “The Shadowy Waters†(1906), William Butler Yeats asks:“Is Eden far away…?Do our woods and windsand verponds cover morequiet woods,More shining winds,more star-glimmeringponds?Is Eden out of timeand out of space?â€How do you answer such questions? We have only the vague elusive promptings of our own mysterious, troubled hearts to tell us that the Eden we long for is there, somewhere beyond the physical world which frames our existence, in another realm of different dimensions. And – what is most painful to admit – that it is closed to us in the form in which we live and breathe, even if at times we do have intimations…, Yeats is telling us that this paradise, this Eden we yearn for is here – present even if invisible, palpable even if intangible.In his Second Symphony, Mahler meets an angel who tells him he can’t get into heaven, he’s locked out. The news is shattering. What follows is an inconsolable sorrowing, the same sorrowing that comes when we wake to the realization that we too are locked out of Eden.Eden is the heaven of our longing and desire for release from pain and suffering. Eden is the image in our restive minds that reflects the reconciled, resolved, quiescent state of soul we hunger for. But Eden eludes –because it is not a place. It is a state of soul which answers none of the illusory, hampering conditions that shape and bind us to the real world of our bodies, our appetites, our passions, and our beliefs.I have turned Yeats’ question “Is Eden out of time and out of space?†into its own answering. However near we may sense its presence at times, Eden remains unreachable, ungraspable, unknowable, unthinkable. It forever eludes us.I wrote this music the way I did to shut out –with quietness and otherworldliness – the clamor and clang of the raucous “Garish Day,†to turn away its tumult and noise, to negate its stridency and chaos. Perhaps in the cleansing stillness and blessing of this emptied-out state of soul, Eden, through still hidden, may not be so far way; though still unreachable, may be close enough almost to touch.
