nothing serious

SKU: AP.36-A929590

UPC: 735816239411. English.

When Max Reinhardt was engaged to direct a German language production of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing at the Vienna Volksbühne in 1918, he asked Korngold to compose the incidental music. The production, under the German title Viel Lärmen um Nichts did not open until May 6, 1920 at the Schönbrunn Palace Theater. In the pit, the composer led members of the Vienna Philharmonic, performing no less than 18 pieces of music. In the meantime, due to the tardy premiere of the play, Korngold had already extracted a five-movement orchestral suite which garnered much praise when performed three months before the play's opening night. The five movements included: 1. the Overture; 2. Scene in the Bridal Chamber; 3. Holzapfel und Schlehwein (a mock-serious scene); 4. Intermezzo (Garden Scene); and 5. Hornpipe. When the play moved to Vienna's Burgtheater (more than 80 performances) and later to the Rezidenz Theater in Munich, the music continued to attract much attention. Demand for the music was such that Korngold arranged the suite into versions for violin and piano (four pieces), and for solo piano (three pieces). German composer-arranger Leo Artok (1885-1935) arranged the most popular three items (1. Hornpipe; 2. Garden Scene; and 3. In the Bridal Chamber) for small orchestra, which were then published by Schott in 1926. This newly engraved edition of the Artok arrangement, offered with a new full score for the first time, has been completed by R. Mark Rogers. All editions noted above are available from the publisher. Instrumentation: 1.1.2.1: 2.2.1.0: Timp.Perc(2).Harm: Str (9.8.7.6.5 in set).

These products are currently being prepared by a new publisher. While many items are ready and will ship on time, some others may see delays of several months.

SKU: PR.16400261S

UPC: 680160038411.

Since the bassoon is my own instrument, many people have asked me why I've written so little for the instrument. Beyond my early Concerto Da Camera for bassoon and small orchestra, written for Leonard Sharrow in 1975, I've not written a single piece that features the bassoon as a solo vehicle (though I have written three woodwind quintets). When I first began composing seriously, critics were quick to point out that my orchestral writing revealed nothing of my roots as a woodwind player--and bassoonists asked why my pieces didn't have more bassoon solos. Perhaps I was so aware that people were looking at me as a bassoonist/composer that I was determined to remove that stigma. Now that my transformation from performer to composer is complete, however, it's time to re-address my instrument. I wanted this new piece to be serious rather than whimsical. The Wind Won't Listen represents my return to the bassoon as the highly expressive, poetic soul that it is.   As such, it shouldn't come as a surprise that the piece is based on a poem, and that the title of the piece as well as both its movement titles come from lines in that poem. I first read Beth Gylys' poem Split at the MacDowell Colony in the summer of 2001, and it made a big impression on me. My personal life had been ruptured by divorce in the preceding year. This poem, with its dry insistence on observation rather than feeling, expressed the wrung-out state of my emotions at the time better than any I had seen. I set it to music, as a song, immediately. In this format, for voice and piano, I was able to put a musical note to every word of the poem. The first lines of the poem, Everyone I know is crying, or should be crying, became a melody that haunted me even without the words.   The work for bassoon and string quartet is an outgrowth of the song. The first movement is labeled Romanza, and has a loose formal arch structure of A-B-C-B-A, with B and C being fast sections framed by the lamenting A music. In addition to hearing the bassoon's first notes attached to the lines Everyone I know is crying, there's a sense of agitation, of loss, of longing, and at times of desperation in the music. At one point, the opening theme from Tristan even appears in the strings.   The second movement follows, without a real pause--the pizzicato final chords of the first movement becoming the increasingly aggressive opening chords of the second. The recitative is actually a foreshadowing of the basic theme that will be varied, again to the words of the song: Life makes itself without us. Don't let me tell you how it is. Go out. Look. The recitative begins in an anguished state, but subsides into more gentle singing by the end, when it simply falls into an ostinato 5/8-3/4 pattern to begin the variations. Marked Very steady tempo; Dancing, this set of variations consists of three dances, each faster than the previous. The first, in the aforementioned 5/8-3/4 meter, gives way to a 3/8 scherzo, which in turn takes on a furious 2/4 scurrying motion. The music becomes breathless, almost pulse-less, and an ethereal theme appears in the violins while the rushing music continues, sotto voce in the bassoon. This new theme is also from the song: Why do I do this? The wind won't listen. The bassoon re-states its Everyone I know is crying melody from the first movement, and at length the 5/8-3/4 music returns, more subdued this time. The piece ends on a major-minor chord, suspended.   The Wind Won't Listen is dedicated to the man who commissioned it, bassoonist Steven Dibner--who shares my passion for poetry and language. --Dan Welcher.

SKU: HL.4008644

ISBN 9798350115024. UPC: 196288189695.

The Passacaglia is a set of instrumental variations based on an ostinato bass. Bach's Passacaglia and Fugue in C-minor for organ represents the pinnacle of what had been achieved in this compositional form at that time. In Franco Cesarini’s arrangement for large wind orchestra, the particularly careful interpretation of the original piece enables him to exploit all the sound colors at his disposal, and in this sumptuous guise Bach's work also takes on a grandiose dimension, albeit tinged with late-Romanticism. The exposition of the beautiful theme begins in the bass part, immediately creating a solemn and serious atmosphere which is accentuated by the intensely pathetic character of the first variations. Up to the tenth variation it remains confined to the bass, but in subsequent ones it also passes to the soprano and alto register. The integrity of the theme is also embellished with elegant arpeggios, in whose lower and higher extensions the theme can be distinguished. Towards the end it returns to the bass in an impressive thickening of the polyphonic texture that swiftly re-establishes the key of C-minor. The “Thema fugatum” which follows immediately does not constitute a Fugue in its own right, rather it is nothing but the twenty-first and most extensive variation of the Passacaglia. This time Bach uses only the first half of the theme, superimposing a rhythmic countersubject that considerably enlivens the entire development of the composition. The polyphonic discourse becomes increasingly dense, until the building tension peaks in a powerful “Neapolitan sixth” chord, followed by a sudden pause. This culminating moment then leads to the coda and final cadence on a bright C-major chord.