Distance (Full Score)

SKU: PR.11440744S

UPC: 680160011490. 9.5 x 13 inches.

The sextet was written for flute (doubling alto flute), clarinet doubling bass clarinet), violin, cello, piano and percussion (triangle, 3 temple blocks, 2 wood blocks, side drum, cymbal, 4 tom-toms, vibraphone, small tam-tam, median tam-tam and big tam-tam). It presents the composer lost in thought about ancient culture and modern civilization and her thinking about the parallels and contrasts between the East and the West. Near Distance takes us through a journey that covers thousands of miles and thousands of years. Contrasting moments of dense, busy activity with sparse, haunting lines the composer bridges the gap between the timeless history of her homeland and the ever-changing, energetic life in the modern society. The work was originally written under the request of Prof. Jacob Druckman, for a composition workshop at the Aspen Music Festival. It is dedicated to his memory with admiration and respect. Near Distance has been featured in Sound and Silence, a series of ten documentary films on contemporary music, which has been broadcast on the European TV network since 1989, produced by the ISCM, Adamov Films and the Polish TV. It has also been recorded on CRI, released in 1999, under the title Sparkle: Chamber Music of Chen Yi. [now available through New World Records] --Chen Yi   Her piece... generates a vivid and wholly radiant color scheme. Harmonically, too, it seems to float enchantingly, its occasional ventures into microtones gracefully bending away from traditional tonality. Gorgeous music, this; one longs to hear more. --Alan Rich, LA Weekly 'Near Distance' evinced some delicate, dramatic sonorities in its fusion of East Asian and Western musical impulses. --John von Rhein, Chicago Tribune.

SKU: CF.YPS16

ISBN 9780825843426. UPC: 798408043421. 9 X 12 inches. Key: Eb major.

An exciting British/Regimental style march by a master of writing for young musicians, Joe Compello's, The Royal Regiment is tuneful and harmonically straight forward. Set in a stately march tempo, the overall effect is of a band on parade approaching from far away and, after a fully-scored climax, receding to the sound of drums fading out in the distance. This is a good alternative march selection for contest or festival. Duration: 3'.

SKU: CF.YPS245F

ISBN 9781491159927. UPC: 680160918515.

In December of 2020, after almost a year of living socially distanced, isolated, and not knowing when we would return to life as we knew it, I began to think about what life used to look like. I realized that I sometimes might have taken all the beautiful things in my life for granted. Personally, the year 2020 was a time of loss where someone close to me left, and at the same time, I was also able to have other successes. This dichotomy inspired me to realize that there is hope in all that we do; it is how we perceive life. Boundless Hope represents my thoughts, feelings, and emotions during this time. The piece is roughly based on the Lydian mode, introducing the raised fourth degree in m. 2 of the mallet percussion and then at m. 15 in the main melody. The Lydian mode naturally gives a sense of positivity, hopefulness, inspiration, and heavenly colors. That was my exact intention with this piece: using the mode to define the mood showing gratitude for all that we have, and yearning to return to normalcy with a new and fresh perspective. Measure 30 should be slightly faster, followed by a rit. into the grandiose recapitulation of the theme in m. 38. At m. 45, the wind chimes should start before the clarinet entrance, with the subsequent measures representing dark and warm colors. This piece is very personal to me, and I appreciate you playing the composition.
In December of 2020, after almost a year of living socially distanced, isolated, and not knowing when we would return to life as we knew it, I began to think about what life used to look like. I realized that I sometimes might have taken all the beautiful things in my life for granted. Personally, the year 2020 was a time of loss where someone close to me left, and at the same time, I was also able to have other successes. This dichotomy inspired me to realize that there is hope in all that we do; it is how we perceive life. Boundless Hope represents my thoughts, feelings, and emotions during this time. The piece is roughly based on the Lydian mode, introducing the raised fourth degree in m.  2 of the mallet percussion and then at m. 15 in the main melody. The Lydian mode naturally gives a sense of positivity, hopefulness, inspiration, and heavenly colors. That was my exact intention with this piece: using the mode to define the mood showing gratitude for all that we have, and yearning to return to normalcy with a new and fresh perspective. Measure 30 should be slightly faster, followed by a rit. into the grandiose recapitulation of the theme in m. 38. At m. 45, the wind chimes should start before the clarinet entrance, with the subsequent measures representing dark and warm colors.This piece is very personal to me, and I appreciate you playing the composition.

SKU: PE.EP14547

ISBN 9790014137090. German.

Hard Boiled Variations by Arnulf Herrmann is a 41-minute work for ensemble and dance. Two aspects are at the centre of it: on the one hand, the piece addresses different facets of acceleration or the different ways of creating the impression of acceleration, and on the other hand, the play of proximity and distance or sharpness and blurriness. The reference to visual perception and the visual arts is quite intentional---comparable to the gradual receding from a canvas, the details fade with increasing distance (or acceleration) and the overriding contours come to the fore until finally only the overall impression of the picture remains recognisable.

The piece was premiered on 6 May 2022 at the Wittener Tage für Neue Kammermusik by Ensemble Modern and CocoonDance under the direction of Elena Schwarz.

The full score (EP 14547) is available for sale as part of the Peters Contemporary Library. The performance material can be hired. This product is printed on demand and may take several weeks to fulfill. Please order from your favorite retailer.

SKU: PR.16500103F

ISBN 9781491131763. UPC: 680160680290.

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: CF.YPS242F

ISBN 9781491159682. UPC: 680160918270.

I love the winter season, perhaps because I was born in February. My hometown is known for its cold weather in winter. In fact, my first name Yukiko means snow girl. My parents gave me this name because it was snowing on the day I was born. Before I started to write the piece, various images depicting the scenery of a snowy morning developed in my mind. Imagine that there is no wind, no sound, and it is a very clear morning. I heard the sound of an organ playing a traditional chorale somewhere from a distance. This is the scenery of my imagination for this piece. You will find many inner melodies, dialogues and conversations between the instruments throughout the piece. Listen carefully to the other instruments and stay in tune while you play.
I love the winter season, perhaps because I was born in February. My hometown is known for its cold weather in winter. In fact, my first name “Yukiko” means snow girl. My parents gave me this name because it was snowing on the day I was born.Before I started to write the piece, various images depicting the scenery of a snowy morning developed in my mind. Imagine that there is no wind, no sound, and it is a very clear morning.  I heard the sound of an organ playing a traditional chorale somewhere from a distance. This is the scenery of my imagination for this piece.  You will find many inner melodies, dialogues and conversations between the instruments throughout the piece. Listen carefully to the other instruments and stay in tune while you play.

SKU: PR.16500101F

ISBN 9781491131725. UPC: 680160680252.

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: BR.EB-9243

ISBN 9790004185438. 9 x 12 inches.

It was the practice of Khoomii (throat singing) - following several workshops with Michael Ormiston - that first attracted me to Tuvan music. Composing this Songbook, the first in a series commissioned by the Ligeti Quartet, I took the chance to reflect on compositional questions around transcription and arrangement of existing music, and frequently found myself asking: where is the boundary between the source material and the new substance? Of course the relationship varies from piece to piece, and moment to moment: sometimes we seem to glimpse the pure source, but most of the time there are differing degrees of distance, working towards or away from it. This new version for string orchestra corresponds closely to the original quartet version, with an additional part for double basses.The traditional Tuvan songs that I have transcribed and recomposed are all known to me from the Ay Kherel CD The Music of Tuva: Throat Singing and Instruments from Central Asia (2004, Arc Music). According to the notes from that CD, this is what the songs are about:1. Dyngylday: If you have come on a horse in blue, it doesn't mean that you are the best. My heart tells me something else: my sweetheart doesn't have such a beautiful horse, but he is my darling.An alternative interpretation from Alash Ensemble (alashensemble.com): The word dyngylday is a nonsense term with no translation. The song makes good-humored fun of somebody for being a good-for-nothing.2. Eki Attar (The Best Steeds): The horse is the basis of our life. It is a magic creature. Even its step is full of music and rhythm. You may not be a horse rider, but when you hear this song you will always remember horses.3. Kuda Yry: This wedding song glorifies the strength of the groom and the beauty of his Horse.4. Ezir-Kara ('Black Eagle'): This was the name of a horse, who became a legend through his remarkable strength and speed.It is not just overtones that abound here: there are galloping rhythms aplenty, and though I am no horse rider I tried to keep the horses galloping in my imagination while composing these pieces.Christian Mason (with quotes from Ay Kherel and Alash Ensemble)

World premiere of the original version: London/UK, May 10, 2016, World premiere of the string orchestra version: Clermont-Ferrand/France, October 8, 2020.