A South American Journey

SKU: BT.FORFPJ01

SKU: DY.DO-1522

ISBN 9782897963026.

Francis Bebey est né à Douala en juillet 1929, dans une grande famille où son père, pasteur, luttait pour nourrir ses enfants. Mais Francis a eu l'opportunité d'aller à l'école. Admirant son frère aîné, Marcel Eyidi Bebey, il s'est éduqué, s'est distingué, et a finalement reçu une bourse pour passer son baccalauréat en France.
Nous approchions de la fin des années 1950 lorsqu'il est arrivé à La Rochelle. Plus que jamais, dans cette France où les Africains étaient regardés avec curiosité, condescendance ou dédain, Francis s'appuyait sur ses ressources intellectuelles. Travailleur assidu, il a obtenu son baccalauréat, puis s'est installé à Paris où il a commencé des études d'anglais à la Sorbonne. Un jour, il a su ce qui l'attirait vraiment : il voulait faire de la radio. Francis a appris son métier en France et aux �?tats-Unis.
Après avoir travaillé quelques années comme reporter, il a été embauché en 1961 en tant que fonctionnaire international au Département de l'information de l'UNESCO.
Parallèlement, Francis a toujours été attiré par la création musicale. Son activité diurne très sérieuse ne l'empêchait pas de fréquenter les clubs de jazz le soir. �? Paris, le jazz, la musique à la mode à cette époque, mais aussi la rumba et la salsa l'attiraient. Il collectionnait les disques et assistait à de nombreux concerts. Avec son complice Manu Dibango, Francis montait sur scène et jouait de la musique.
Francis aimait la musique classique depuis son enfance. Il avait grandi en écoutant les cantates et les oratorios de Bach ou Handel que son père chantait au temple. Il s'est passionné pour la guitare, impressionné par les maîtres espagnols et sud-américains, et a décidé d'apprendre à jouer de l'instrument lui-même.
Il a commencé à composer des pièces pour guitare, mêlant les diverses influences qui le traversaient avec la musique traditionnelle africaine qu'il portait en lui depuis son enfance. Son approche a captivé le directeur du Centre culturel américain (alors situé dans le quartier de Saint-Germain à Paris), qui lui a offert l'opportunité de se produire devant un public. Francis y a donné son premier récital de guitare (1963) devant un public hypnotisé. Son premier album solo est sorti peu de temps après.
Progressivement, Francis est devenu reconnu comme musicien et compositeur. Plusieurs albums de l'ambassadeur africain de la guitare, comme le décrivait la presse, sont sortis. Il a également écrit des livres, au point que sa carrière artistique est devenue difficile à concilier avec sa carrière de fonctionnaire. En 1974, même s'il était devenu le directeur général chargé de la musique à l'UNESCO, il a fait le saut audacieux et a démissionné de cette prestigieuse institution pour se consacrer aux trois activités qui l'intéressaient : la musique, la littérature et le journalisme.
Il a exploré le patrimoine musical traditionnel du continent africain, notamment à travers le piano à pouce sanza et la musique polyphonique des pygmées d'Afrique centrale, ou en chantant dans sa langue maternelle et en composant des chansons humoristiques en français !
Le succès a suivi. Francis Bebey a parcouru le monde : de la France au Brésil, du Cameroun à la Suède, de l'Allemagne aux Caraïbes, ou du Maroc au Japon... la liste des pays où il a été invité à se produire, à donner des conférences ou à rencontrer des lecteurs est très longue. En plus de la reconnaissance publique, il bénéficiait de la reconnaissance de ses collègues musiciens, tels que le guitariste John Williams ou le Vénézuélien Antonio Lauro, qui l'ont invité à faire partie du jury d'un concours de guitare classique à Caracas.
Sa vie était le voyage d'un pionnier africain, un homme enraciné dans son patrimoine culturel et portant un message de partage et d'espoir pour le monde. Son originalité continue de résonner dans le monde entier depuis son décès à la fin du mois de mai 2001.

Francis Bebey was born in Douala in July 1929, into a large family where his father, a pastor, struggled to feed his children. But Francis had the opportunity to go to school. Admiring his elder brother, Marcel Eyidi Bebey, he educated himself, distinguished himself, and eventually received a scholarship to go and take his baccalaureate in France.
We approached the end of the 1950s when he arrived in La Rochelle. More than ever, in this France where Africans were looked at with curiosity, condescension, or disdain, Francis relied on his intellectual resources. A diligent worker, he obtained his Baccalaureate, then moved to Paris where he started English studies at the Sorbonne. One day, he knew what truly attracted him: he wanted to do radio. Francis learned his craft in France and in the USA.
After working for a few years as a reporter, he was hired in 1961 as an international civil servant in the UNESCO Information Department.
In parallel, Francis had always been drawn to musical creation. His very serious daytime activity didn�??t prevent him from frequenting jazz clubs in the evenings. In Paris, the Jazz, the trendy music of that time, but also rumba and salsa attracted him. He collected records and attended numerous concerts. With his accomplice Manu Dibango, Francis took the stage and played music.
Francis liked classical music since his childhood. He grew up listening to the cantatas and oratorios of Bach or Handel that his father had sung in the temple. He became passionate about the guitar, impressed by the Spanish and South American masters, and decided to learn to strum the instrument himself.
He started composing guitar pieces, blending the various influences that flow through him with the traditional African music he had carried within since childhood. His approach captivated the director of the American Cultural Center (then located in the Saint-Germain neighborhood of Paris), who offered him the opportunity to perform in front of an audience. Francis gave his first guitar recital there (1963) in front of a mesmerized audience. His first solo album was released shortly thereafter.
Gradually, Francis became recognized as a musician and composer. Several albums of the African guitar ambassador, as described by the press, were released. He also wrote books, to the point that his artistic career became challenging to reconcile with his career as a civil servant. In 1974, even though he had become the General Manager in charge of music at UNESCO, he took the bold leap and resigned from this prestigious institution to dedicated himself to the three activities that interested him: music, literature, and journalism.
He explored the traditional musical heritage of the African continent, notably through the thumb piano sanza, and the polyphonic music of the Central African pygmies, or singing in his native language and composing humoristic songs in French!
Success followed. Francis Bebey traveled the world: from France to Brazil, Cameroon to Sweden, Germany to the Carribean, or Morocco to Japan... the list of countries where he was invited to perform, gives lectures, or meets readers is very long. In addition to public recognition, he enjoyed the recognition of his fellow musicians, such as guitarist John Williams or Venezuelan Antonio Lauro, who invited him to be a part of the jury for a classical guitar competition in Caracas.
His life was the journey of an African pioneer, a man rooted in his cultural heritage and carrying a message of sharing and hope for the world. His originality continues to vibrate around the world since his passing at the end of May 2001.

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.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: BT.WH31517CD

ISBN 9788759824825. International.

About the images in the enclosed book (80 pages)The photographs in this book are taken from The Father Browne SJ Photographic Collection. Frank Browne (1880-1960) sailed with the Titanic on the first part of the luxury ship’smaiden voyage from Southampton to Cobh (Queenstown) in Ireland.The trip was a gift from his uncle who had also given Browne a camera which enabled him to document the journey. Brown befriended a well-to-do American family onboard.They invited him to travel on to New York with them but Browne’s uncleopposed and ordered his nephew to land in Cobh. It was a blow for the young traveler but ended up saving both Browne and his unique photographs.The book isalsoillustrated with Per Nørgård’s scores for Titanic.TitanicMusic by Per NørgårdText by Thorkild BjørnvigChristian Steffensen, recitationEdit, mix and master: Gert Skjød SørensenRecording engineer: Benni BossThe original tapeelement used in the premiereof Titanic on April 14, 1962 has been digitizedand re-used on this CD.Svend Nielsen, violinJens Wilhelm Pedersen (Fuzzy), clarinetErik Norby, trumpetPer Nørgård, pianoBirgit Nielsen, vocalsTechnician:Harry Damgaard.

SKU: SU.80101343

Solstice Sonata (2013) for trumpet and organ was commissioned by the American Guild of Organists for its 2014 Biennial National Convention in Boston, Massachusetts. It was premiered on June 24, 2014 at the Memorial Church, Harvard University, by trumpeter Chris Gekker and organist Christian Lane. At the solstice (summer in the Northern Hemisphere and winter in the Southern), the sun is directly aligned with the tropical latitude lines, and the longest day of the year occurs (marking the start of summer). This sonata is music of celebration and contemplation, taking the inspiration of the longest day as a starting place for both meditation both thoughtful and joyous. Take Flight soars and leaps with vigor-perhaps the image of a hang-glider's journey over a dramatic landscape under the late evening sun. The Dream of Peace is lyrical and passionate; it is perhaps night music of reflection and intensity. Glittering, Aglow begins with quiet, mystical music: a gradual awakening. A vibrant, syncopated dance breaks out, is interrupted by the quiet music again, and returns to push forward to a vibrant conclusion. The new season has begun.Instrumentation: Trumpet and Organ. Composed: 2013 Published by: Zimbel Press.