As a Wind from the North

SKU: CL.012-3748-01

This brilliant concert band work from the pen of composer Ayatey Shabazz is the perfect choice for contest or festival use. An all-out action piece, full of propulsive rhythms and soaring harmonies, this one is pure musical adrenaline! Excitement abounds from start to finish. Very highly recommended!

SKU: CL.012-2541-01

A brilliant piece by noted Canadian composer, Andre Jutras. This exciting work will challenge your group and introduce them to harmonic and rhythmic concepts not often found in traditional band literature.

About C.L. Barnhouse Classics Series

Under the editorial supervision of Dr. Alfred Reed, these classics from master composers have been adapted and arranged for concert band. A perfect way to acquaint concert band performers and audiences with some of the greatest classical music of all time!

SKU: HL.48024054

UPC: 888680678678. 9x12 inches.

A century ago, James Causley Windram, then band director of the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers (and later the Coldstream Guards) asked Gustav Holst if he would transcribe some of the composer's Hymns from the Rig Veda for military band. Always a band advocate, Holst readily agreed. In this thoroughly characteristic suite, two of Windram's settings (Hymn of the Travellers and Battle Hymn) have been edited for modern instrumentation, while a third (Hymn to Manas) has been arranged by Jon Ceander Mitchell from Holst's original choral setting.

SKU: BT.GOB-000283-120

Composed during the summer of 1988. Commissioned by The Norwegian Brass Band Club First performed in the Grieg Hall¬? at the 10th Anniversary Concert for the Norwegian Championship, Bergen, February 1989. EBML conducted by Michael Antrobus.

The work is important for me because it was my first piece to be played outside Norway. Black Dyke/David King performed it and did a recording of it in 1991.

The composer:
In the original score I quote a Swedish bishop (Olaus Mangnus) who lived in the 15th century. He travelled around Scandinavia and drew maps - very important historic material.

When he came to the north of Norway (where I come from) hedescribed the wind from the north as Ciricus: (something like) Worst of all winds is Circius, that revolves(?= turn upside down) heaven and earth. (Well, not a good translation I¬?m afraid).

The fast sections reflects the mighty winds from the north. In the middle section, I borrowed a folksong-like tune (by C. Elling, a norwegian composer).
The text (by Kristoffer Janson) tells about old times when the fishermen used open boats: they had to put their lives in the hands of God. De opening en het slot van dit werk beschrijven 'Circius' de wind die hemel en aarde verwoest.
Het middendeel is een bewerking van het Noorse volkslied 'The fisherman's speech to his son'. De inhoud van het lied komt overeen met Circius. De vader verzoekt zijn zoon de krachten van de natuur te trotseren, maar bovenal te respecteren.
Een kort doch spectaculair concertwerk dat het gehele orkest in de greep heeft.

Gobelin Music Publications.

SKU: BT.GOB-000037-130

Composed during the summer of 1988. Commissioned by The Norwegian Brass Band Club First performed in the Grieg Hall¬? at the 10th Anniversary Concert for the Norwegian Championship, Bergen, February 1989. EBML conducted by Michael Antrobus.

The work is important for me because it was my first piece to be played outside Norway. Black Dyke/David King performed it and did a recording of it in 1991.

The composer:
In the original score I quote a Swedish bishop (Olaus Mangnus) who lived in the 15th century. He travelled around Scandinavia and drew maps - very important historic material.

When he came to the north of Norway (where I come from) hedescribed the wind from the north as Ciricus: (something like) Worst of all winds is Circius, that revolves(?= turn upside down) heaven and earth. (Well, not a good translation I¬?m afraid).

The fast sections reflects the mighty winds from the north. In the middle section, I borrowed a folksong-like tune (by C. Elling, a norwegian composer).
The text (by Kristoffer Janson) tells about old times when the fishermen used open boats: they had to put their lives in the hands of God. De opening en het slot van dit werk beschrijven 'Circius' de wind die hemel en aarde verwoest.
Het middendeel is een bewerking van het Noorse volkslied 'The fisherman's speech to his son'. De inhoud van het lied komt overeen met Circius. De vader verzoekt zijn zoon de krachten van de natuur te trotseren, maar bovenal te respecteren.
Een kort doch spectaculair concertwerk dat het gehele orkest in de greep heeft.

Gobelin Music Publications.

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.GOB-000248-140

In Greek mythology, Boreas is the God of the North Wind.
When thinking of the north wind we particularly think of the bleak wind coming from the freezing cold north, but in Homers' work we see a more varied picture.
As shown in the following two stories, Boreas often does play the role of a storm wind that blows forth heavy dark clouds while whipping up the dark waves of the tempestuous sea to mountainous heights.
When the stake of the fallen Patroclos refuses to burn, Achilles begs for some wind.
When Iris, the swift messenger of the Gods, asks the winds for assistance, they raise themselves up with tremendous roaring and rush to Troy.
Upon theirarrival they blow the divine fire of Patroclos' stake far up into the sky.
When Troy was destroyed, the Greeks returned home. After many wanderings, Odysseus, however, ends up with the beautiful nymph, Calypso, who keeps him as a prisoner. As ordered by Zeus, Calypso frees him and sends him off on a handmade wooden raft.
At sea, Odysseus is threatened by the aggressive sea god, Poseidon, who stirs up the winds and thrashes the waves with his trident. The goddess, Athena, stems the violence of all the winds except for the north wind, and thus it is Boreas, who sends Odysseus to the land of the hospitable Phaiakes.

Jan Bosveld composed Boreas for OLTO, a music association in Loenen, The Netherlands, for which he had served as conductor for many years.
Turbulent movement in both tempo and dynamics characterize this composition. The result is a whirling piece that races by in a positive manner. Boreas is in de Griekse mythologie de god van de noordenwind.
Bij noordenwind denken wij vooral aan de gure wind uit het ijskoude noorden, bij Homerus echter zien we een meer gevariëerd beeld.
Natuurlijk speelt Boreas, zoals uit de twee onderstaande verhalen blijkt, meestal de rol van de stormwind die de zware zwarte wolken voor zich uit blaast en de donkere golven van de onstuimige zee torenhoog opzwiept.


Gobelin Music Publications.

SKU: GI.G-1039

Conte • Stephenson • Grantham • Cuong • Kozlevnikov • Dooley North Texas Wind Symphony Eugene Migliaro Corporon, Conductor The latest release from the GIA WindWorks label, Taylor Made, features compositions by David Conte, James M. Stephenson, Donald Grantham, Viet Cuong, Boris Kozhevnikov, and Paul Dooley. Under the direction of Eugene Migliaro Corporon, the North Texas Wind Symphony continues the tradition of superior recordings of some of the best works written for wind symphony. Winds magazine writes “This series has immense historic value in documenting the best of the repertoire…as well as providing much sheer listening pleasure for the level of artistry in the performances….these discs represent the standards to which all must aspire.” GIA Publications, Inc. is proud to partner with Eugene Corporon and the North Texas Wind Symphony to provide first-class recordings that accentuate the comprehensiveness, depth, and value of the wind symphony medium and its music. Contents 1. A Copland Portrait (1999) (8:44) David Conte (b. 1955)/trans. Ryan Nowlin • Copyright © E.C. Schirmer Music Three Bones Concerto (2013)  (15:31) James M. Stephenson (b. 1969) • Copyright © Stephenson Music Cuban (2:52) Lazy (4:19)  Hip (8:20) • Tony Baker, Natalie Mannix, Steven Menard – Trombone Soloists Symphony No. 2, “after Hafiz” (2016) (18:08) Donald Grantham (b. 1947) • Copyright © Piquant Press Listen to This Music (4:38) Greeting God (5:46) I Hold the Lion's Paw (7:44) Moth (2013) (8:38) • Viet Cuong (b. 1990) • © Viet Cuong Music Symphony No. 3, “Slavyanskaya” (1950) (15:22) Boris Kozhevnikov (1906–1985)/ed. John R. Bourgeois • Copyright © Wingert-Jones Music Allegro, decisively (5:45) Slow Waltz (2:46) Vivace (2:16) Moderato, joyously (4:35) 13. Mavericks (2016) (8:02) Paul Dooley (b. 1983) • Copyright © Paul Dooley Music Total Time (75:00)   The creation of the WindWorks label represents an expanded relationship between the North Texas Wind Symphony and GIA Publications. GIA’s generous support and ongoing dedication to wind music has made it possible for the ensemble to continue producing recordings of the highest quality that are a testament to the perseverance and work ethic of everyone involved. While the first 34 releases in the series, initiated in 1989, remain with the Klavier label, this broadened alliance with GIA affords the opportunity to consolidate all of the current projects under one publishing roof. The diverse set of offerings consists of WindWorks (which includes the CD and DVD series), the Composer’s Collection, and the Teaching Music through Performance in Band resource recordings. Partnering in this way creates exciting possibilities that allow the imaginative output to stay focused on the ongoing mission: to provide first-class recordings that accentuate the comprehensiveness, depth, and value of the wind symphony medium and its music.  .