When the Journey Ends

SKU: PR.140401330

ISBN 9781491134412. UPC: 680160684939.

Nathaniel Dett was among America’s leading composers in the early 20th century, and MAGNOLIA SUITE is a beautiful example of his rich, hybrid style. Deeply inspired by the music and mission of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, Dett’s piano music springs from the late Romantic traditions of florid texture and embellishment, along with programmatic titles and raw emotion. It is notable for melody writing inspired by and paraphrasing African-American song. The 18-minute MAGNOLIA SUITE contains five movements, any of which may also be performed separately. This edition by Lara Downes provides a clean, new engraving that corrects the many errors and unclear indications appearing in the historical printing.
Robert Nathaniel Dett was born in a place that was built on freedom. The little village of Drummondville, Ontario was founded by enslaved Africans – Dett’s ancestors among them – who traveled the Underground Railroad out of the American South into Canada. Their journey brought them to a safe haven, a place where fortunes and futures could be transformed in the span of one generation, to lives full of new possibilities. You could call it “the place where the rainbow ends,” which is the title of the last movement of Dett’s Magnolia Suite.When Dett wrote these pieces, he was a young teacher at Lane College in Tennessee, a historically Black college that had been founded in 1882, the year of his birth. A place built on freedom, with the purpose of educating newly-emancipated slaves – a place designed to nurture the blossoming of ideas, the vibrant flowering of minds set free. This music is inspired by the gorgeous splendor of the magnolia blooms on that college campus, and also by the shared histories, experiences, and aspirations of the community that Dett found there.These five pieces pay affectionate tribute to lineage and legacy. They express gratitude for the bittersweet beauties of the present; nostalgia for the past (a bit romanticized, as the past always is); and an effervescent optimism for the future that awaits us in the place where the rainbow ends.

SKU: PR.41641572L

UPC: 680160636167.

Illuminating Journey is composed to celebrate Maestro Carl St. Clair's 25th Anniversary season with Pacific Symphony. Maestro St. Clair is one of the few conductors who has dedicated his time to new music and support for living composers. I first encountered Maestro St. Clair in 2004 when I was one of the finalists for the Young Composers Competition. After I won that competition, I had an opportunity to work with Maestro St. Clair on the piece that he commissioned for the Pacific Symphony in 2005. That's the beginning of the journey of our friendship. Illuminating Journey is inspired by Maestro St. Clair's personality and the music he loved. The piece is mainly based on the pitch material from Maestro St. Clair's name CARL which can be translated as C = C, A = A, R = Re, and L = La. That pitch material already has the character of Illuminating sound for the open 5th and octave. The piece also incorporates some musical references that have some meaning for Maestro St. Clair, such as the hopefulness of the melodic intervals from West Side Story, There's a Place for Us, composed by Leonard Bernstein, who was also Maestro St. Clair's mentor. Illuminating Journey starts with the rhythmic motion of the pitch C and moves on to create a set of pitches. The note C functions as a center for the endless energy of this piece and creates a triumphant ending. I would personally like to thank Maestro St. Clair for his dedication on my music and his friendship throughout the past 10 years. The work with Maestro St. Clair and the Pacific Symphony was an early step in my career as a composer. I often mentioned that I may not be able to come this far without that part of my life. Thank you very much, Maestro St. Clair and the Pacific Symphony. Let's celebrate our Illuminating Journey together.

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: PR.16400213S

UPC: 680160037636. 8.5 x 11 Landscape inches.

The unusual combination of cello, percussion and piano seems more incongruous than it actually sounds. When I first heard the ensemble Aequalis, in a full evening program I was absolutely astonished at the combination of lyricism, pulse, and color. Something about the mix causes the cello to sound marimba-like, the vibraphone to imitate the cello's harmonics, and the piano to become a kind of proto-orchestra of colors and effects.   Tsunami was written for Aequalis in the summer and fall of 1991 with the assistance of a grant from Chamber Music America. The title, the Japanese word for tidal wave (which is a misnomer -- tsunamis have nothing to do with the tides), refers to the phenomenon of an undersea disturbance causing a huge wall of water to flood the first land in its path. The initial earthquake or volcanic eruption that sends a seismic shock through the water is invisible -- it's only when that shock wave hits land, recoils, and takes ocean swells back with it, that the wave begins to form. In successive landings, recoilings, and re-landings, this force finally spends itself, usually inundating anything in its path, sometimes to a depth of one hundred feet or more.   My piece does not attempt to depict this natural cataclysm -- how could it, with three instruments? -- but the form of the first half of the work is based on it. The initial percussive shock that opens the piece creates a stir in the form of a cello motive marked swelling and employing long portamenti pushing upwards. After a second shock, the cello motive begins an undersea journey -- very slow and lyrical at first -- accompanied by non-pitched percussion only. Eventually the piano joins, first with echoing bass notes, then with a rather mechanical motive high on the keyboard. This force grows, the cello line climbs higher and higher until another double-shock is heard -- perhaps the energy has hit land? Following this, the percussion becomes melodic (marimba), and we now have two lines in canon accompanied by a separate line in the piano. This, too, builds to a climax, and an even louder and more vigorous shock results. Now the texture is a three-way canon with cello, vibraphone, and piano chasing each other in ever faster cycles of sound. The height of this is a triple cadenza in which all three players spend their pent-up energy, one at a time.   The second part of the piece follows after a settling-down, and is marked Dancing. This is a rondo, with a recurring theme (heard first in the marimba) followed by three contrasting sections heard between reiterations of the main tune (the form could be diagrammed A-A-B-A-C-A). The mood is one of joyous kinetic energy, with elements of Eastern or Balinese gamelan sounds, and employing several pentatonic scales (as does the first half of the work). It ends in a vigorous, stomping dance. --Dan Welcher    .

SKU: GI.G-10054

ISBN 9781622774548.

We all need creativity in our lives. It is key to our happiness. Music, according to author Clint Randles, is one of the best ways to feed our longing for self-growth through engagement in creative processes. And music brings us together for the purpose of making beauty with sound. It provides us with a pathway to the good life. In To Create, Randles answers the critical question: What can I do with my time that will give me the best chance at achieving daily happiness? This amazing book unpacks what it means to engage in creative processes. Since story is the best way of feeding our imagination, the book unfolds by way of life stories that express the author’s unique perspective of the hero’s journey. Along the way, Randles inspires us to think about creativity and music as a pursuit that is not only truly worthy, but accessible. He addresses rules for creative performance, what we can learn from exceptional musicians and teachers, the link between spirituality and creativity, understanding our own stories in light of the meta-story, and the art of trust and starting small. To Create is a book that is unlike anything written on the topic—entertaining, wise, inspiring, and layered. It is for anyone who is interested in pursuing creativity through music but can’t quite figure out how or where to start. States Randles: “It is my hope that you will be able to imagine the good life through music, that you will be inspired To Create!” Clint Randles, PhD, is Associate Professor of Music Education at the University of South Florida, husband, father, multi-instrumentalist, and passionate lover of music.   Full of resonating stories, To Create is a profoundly pedagogical book about potential pathways into life’s learnings through and in music. To Create seeks and embraces the value embodied in the multiple, individual, and sociocultural authoring of diverse creativities. By analogising the good life (‘eidaimonia’), with lived-through experiences by which our desire (and drive) to create, to grow, to navigate, and to achieve extraordinary things in life is inextricably linked, Clint Randles stories his own journey of being awakened ‘To Create,’ by creating and living ‘the good life’ in and through the symbiotic domains of music and music education. —Pamela Burnard, Professor of Arts, Creativities and Educations     University of Cambridge, UK To Create is the rare achievement that seamlessly blends how-to curriculum with why-so philosophy, making the case that creative activity is an essential right that all children deserve from an education in music. Randles’ vivid illustrations prod us to think differently about teaching when well-being—when the good life—is both destination and design. —Randall Everett Allsup, Professor of Music Education     Teachers College Columbia University Randles takes readers on a real and figurative road trip during which he demonstrates how to live life to its fullest by embracing creativity and repeating a mantra of possibility. He shows us how the good life is achievable, walking readers through deeply personal accounts of creativity in everyday situations over a lifetime. This book binds the individual and cultural, imaginative and practical, tangible and intangible, light and dark, yin and yang. It’s all about the power of three, weaving through everything the vital, intangible element of spirituality, energy, chi to achieve eudaimonia. Through the lens of his experiences as a musician and teacher, the author celebrates relentlessness and hard work, providing a window into what it means to engage in the good life. Open that window to hear life’s call to adventure! —Gareth Dylan Smith, Assistant Professor of Music Education     Boston University Professor Randles’ stimulating book prompts memory of the seminal work of Joseph Schumpeter who suggested the importance of creative deconstruction in a democracy. Both authors focus on attaining the good life through a fuller understanding of the logic of the process of change—change that is driven by knowledgeable and innovative entrepreneurs. The immediate application of Randles’ suggested dynamic creativity processes applies to both teacher education and professional development, although both he and Schumpeter advance general ideas in creativity designed to achieve the highest level of human growth. —Richard Colwell, Professor Emeritus of Music Education     University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign In recent years, Aristotle’s concept of ‘Eudaimonia’—meaning Happiness in the robust sense of full human flourishing (a life of joy, fellowship, self-growth, meaningfulness, ethical ‘good work,’ and more)—has entered and transformed the philosophy and practice of music education. To Create: Imagining the Good Life through Music is a highly original, emotional, practical, and exciting journey through the natures and values of creativity in/for music education and life itself. —David J. Elliott, Professor of Music and Music Education     New York University.

SKU: PR.16400222S

UPC: 680160037841.

This work follows my Quartet No. 1 by five years. In terms of style and aesthetic aim, however, it seems light years away. Where the first work, a 28-minute, four-movement piece, took aim at cosmic conflicts and heroic resolutions, the present work is intended as a kind of divertissment. Harbor Music lasts a mere eleven minutes, is cast in a single movement with six sections, and should leave both performers and listeners with a feeling of good humor and affection.   The title comes from my experience as a guest in the magnificent city of Sydney, Australia. One of its most attractive features is its unique system of ferry boats: the city is laid out around a large, multi-channeled harbor, with destinations more easily approached by water than by land. Consequently, inhabitants of Sydney get around on small, people-friendly boats that come and go from the central docks at Circular Quay. During a week's visit in 1991, I must have boarded these boats at least a dozen times, always bound for a new location - the resort town of Manley, or the Zoo at Taronga Park, or the shopping district at Darling Harbour.   In casting about for a form for my second string quartet, a kind of loose rondo came to mind. Each new destination would be approached from the same starting-out point (although there are subtle variations in the repeating theme; it's always in a new key, and the texture is never the same). The result, I hope, is a sense of constant new information presented with introductory frames of a more familiar nature.   The embarkation theme, which begins the piece, is a sort of bi-tonal fanfare in which the violins are in G major and the viola and cello are in B-flat major. It is bold, eager, and forward-looking. The first voyage maintains this bi-tonality, beginning as a 9/8 due for second violin and viola in a kind of rocking motion -much as a boat produces when reaching the deeper water in the harbor. A sweet, nostalgic theme emerges over this rocking accompaniment. This music is developed somewhat, then transforms quickly into a much faster and lighter episode, filled with rising and falling scales (again, in differing keys). A scherzando interlude in short notes and changing meters provides contrast, and the episode ends with a reprise of the scales.   The second embarkation follows, this time in A major/C major. It leads quickly into a very warm and slow theme, in wide-leaping intervals for the viola. This section is interrupted twice by solo cadenzas for the cello, suggesting distant boat-horns in major thirds. The end of the episode becomes a transition, with boat-horns leading into the final appearance of the embarkation music, this time in trills and tremolos instead of sharply accented chords. The nostalgic theme of the first episode makes a final appearance, serving now as a coda. The rocking motion continues, in a lullaby fashion, leaving us drowsy and satisfied on our homeward journey.   Harbor Music was written for the Cavani Quartet, and is dedicated to Richard J. Bogomolny. Commissioned by his employees at First National Supermarkets as a gift, it represents a thank you from many of the people (including this composer) who have benefitted from his vision and generosity. An ardent advocate of chamber music (and a cellist himself), Mr. Bogomolny has for many years been Chairman of the Board of Chamber Music America. -- Dan Welcher.