Clearing some dust

After the manner of social media, I read a broad invitation for saxophone choir pieces. Since I already have three new works on the burner, my mind turned to possibilities for arrangement.

As a result, I have, for the first in a great, great long while, cast my eyes on Night the First from White Nights. Under such circumstances (reviewing after a long interval, a piece left in a state of roughly 60% completion), it is very heartening indeed to find that one is happy still to own the music. More than that, it is thrilling to feel that one's musical mind is still perfectly attuned to the score, not only in terms of sympathy with the music's goal, purpose & character, but with an eye (yes, I shall say it) to eventual completion.

That, in addition to feeling that the first Intermezzo will work very nicely for an ensemble of saxophones. Perhaps supplemented by a contrabassoon....

in memoriam

I learnt last night of the passing of William A. Goodwin, for many years organist, music director, and the guy who kept all the infrastructure together, at the First Congregational Church in Woburn. A son of the kindly middle west, Bill departed from this vale of tears and committees this past Saturday.

First among those who mourn Bill's passing must be the sweet-voiced E. & G. G. Hook organ at First Congo. Now that Bill is gone, there is no knowing if any organist will step up who might be half the caretaker of this magnificent instrument that Bill was. It is a beautiful instrument, whose glorious sound was wont to fill a beautiful space.

In a world of complainers and finger-pointers, Bill was ever the quiet fellow who kept his own counsel, rolled up his sleeves, and got the job done; and if thereby there was some peace made between two contentious individuals, so much the better.

His was a modest soul in a gracious, small-town way. It is his wish that there be no memorial service for his passing. Those whose lives he touched do not really require such a service, for the memory of his many selfless, generous deeds is incense enough, praying for divine succor to his spirit. When we were new to Massachusetts, Bill's quiet gift to us for our first Thanksgiving was a gift card redeemable at a local supermarket. When we were hungry, he gave to us to eat.

It was one of the first of innumerable, generally small (so as not to draw too much attention), although in the aggregate substantial, acts on Bill's part which through the years aided the material sustenance of our family.

He was a musical friend. When I first came to the Boston area (and was thus Just Another Composer in Town), Bill took the brave step of inviting me to write something for use in the church; more than that (and in spite of the at times time-consuming musical demands), he liked what he heard and played. A list of pieces which I wrote either on Bill's specific request, or in the environment of his musical welcome, includes:

Fantasy on a Tallis Hymn, Op.30 (clarinet & organ)
Exultate Deo, Op.31 (brass septet)
Bless the Lord, O my soul, Op.32 (unaccompanied choir)
Three Short Pieces, Op.34 (organ solo)
Kingsfold, Op.35 (choir and piano)
My Times Are in Your Hand, Op.36 (unaccompanied choir)
Festive Voluntary, Op.37 (brass quintet, tiompani & organ)
Sinfonietta, Op.38 (brass quintet)
Bless the Lord at All Times, Op.42 (choir unaccompanied)
Four Silent Prayers, Op.43 (piano solo)
Danse antique, Op.44 (brass quintet and organ)
Danby, Op.45 (choir and organ)
Voluntary on « Exaltabo Te Deus », Op.47a (clarinet and organ)
Alleluia in D, Op.48 (choir unaccompanied)
Trumpet Call Voluntary, Op.51 (flute, clarinet, trumpet, bassoon & organ)
Born on Earth to Save Us, Op.52 (tenor solo, unison choir, organ, optional handbells)
Joseph and Mary, Op.53 (flute, clarinet, trumpet, bassoon, handbells, unison choir and piano)
All Glory, Laud and Honor, Op.56 (soprano, violin & organ)
I Look from Afar, Op.60 (choir, brass quintet, timpani & organ)
Reflections on a French Carol, Op.61 (clarinet, trumpet, bassoon & organ)
Pascha nostrum, Op.62 (choir, brass quintet & organ)
Fragments of « Morning Has Broken », Op.64 (clarinet, violin & piano)
Prelude on « Kremser », Op.66 (trumpet or clarinet & organ)
Sweetest Ancient Cradle Song, Op.67 (choir, brass quintet & organ)
The Snow Lay on the Ground, Op.68 (clarinet, trumpet, bassoon, handbells, choir and piano)
Postlude on « Wie lieblich es », Op.69 (clarinet & organ)
Canzona & Gigue, Op.77 (clarinet & organ)

Bill, you were one in a million, and you were a true and steady friend. Many times ere now I have thanked you, and now you have gone where I can send thanks only as a prayer. God give your soul rest.

Toccata launched

The concluding toccata section of Plotting, I now have mentally schemed, and have worked on for a couple of days now.

While overall I am content with the last couple of variations for the passacaglia, there has been just the shade of a nagging sensation ... and I've now had the eureka! moment for which I had unconsciously waited. A slightly quicker tempo for variation XXXIX, and then a stepped relaxation through the 'unwinding' of variation XL, will not only sharpen their profile, but will set up the change of pace for the toccata.

Passacaglia complete

The passacaglia which is the heart of the new violin-&-harpsichord piece, Plotting (y is the new x), has wound up at a nice round 40 variations on the theme, and I worked out variations XXXVIII, XXXIX & XL on this morning's train.

And there will be room for a brief toccata in the capacity of a coda . . . as the passacaglia just kept motoring on, I was starting to think that maybe that would be the piece, and that I should need to abandon my original idea of Introduction, Passacaglia & Toccata. Now that I have shaped the whole passacaglia . . . well, I know where the matter rests.

(I think I mentioned ere now that when Paul & I talked about it, he wanted a piece between 7 and 12 minutes; and you know that means that I would write a 12-minute piece . . . .)

I have that same feeling I had when I had done writing both Counting Sheep, and the St John Passion - that I have written my best music to date.

The Plan

...for, well, not tonight, for tomorrow perhaps...wrap up the passacaglia, and then see to the Squirrels.

Hello again, blog

In an extension of the Thanksgiving season, we had a wonderfully productive choir rehearsal last night, so that even with a rescheduling of next week's rehearsal to a different day of the week (which at this season, is bound to conflict with other events, so that attendance will perforce be down somewhat), we are reasonably well prepared for both this Sunday and the following, and are well on track with the actual Christmas anthem.

Checking the info for "The Quijote Project," I find that word of a decision does not come until the end of January . . . coinciding nicely with the brace of concerts we are cooking up astride the January/February divide.

For those two concerts, I have started a quartet for flute, clarinet, guitar and bass, Jazz for Nostalgic Squirrels; pleased with the start I've made, looking forward to further work this weekend.

The passacaglia in Plotting continues to expand. There was a stretch of two-three days in which it was allowed to 'cool', and my thinking while working away was, I might wind up shifting things around; but in reviewing The State of the Passacaglia last night, I was astonished to find just how pleased I was with it, as is. The scheme for this grand heart of the piece is three roughly equal sections: in the first, the theme remains in a 'home key' (a kind of c minor); in the second, the theme moves about, pitch-wise; in the third . . . I've been planning on another 8-10 variations, and my present work (continued at length this morning) has been devising the harmonic underpinning of 1) the continued moving-about, against 2) various contrapuntal applications of the theme. Probably I will wind up with 2-3 codetta-ish variations returning to the kind-of-c-minor.

Nor have I completely forgotten My Island Home . . . though I seem to be itching to whip up a Christmas-ish duet for clarinet and violin.

Plotting, mostly

I have been delinquent in blogging. So what to catch up with?

The passacaglia in Plotting expands nicely, and sprouted a fresh eleven variations yesterday. (And I scribbled three more on the train this morning.)

The piece (Plotting, i.e.) is invited to an outing on 5 April, hence the focus.

Our composers' collective concert has become a brace of concerts, Friday 31 January and Saturday 1 February. I think I want to write something new for that.