SKU: SU.91580100

A Grateful Tail - Movement by Movement Siriusly, Dog Star Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, has been used by travelers and navigators for thousands of years as a guiding star and so it is here as the opening movement for the symphony. Sirius, the cornerstone to the constellation Canis Maggiore or Big Dog sits at the foot of Orion, the hunter, leading the way. Highly cinematic, the movement evokes both a musical and visual sense of the mythological and mysterious elements of Sirius and its Dog Godstar secrets. From the clarion call of the opening, Sirius theme, the sound is buoyant and frisky emulating the nature of doggy playtime. Puppy pleasures abound as a doggy four-step, my turn on the traditional American two-step dance, is introduced. The movement transforms into an actual orchestrated frolic of small, large and medium dog barks beginning with the winds (smaller dogs) and ultimately, the big dog, brass. The movement climaxes with the coda or, Dog Park, where the winds and the brass bark and play together over the, doggy ostinato four-step rhythm, culminating with the final call of the Sirius theme. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie, Peacefully It's all in a dog's day and life. Tranquility presides over this supremely gentle, intermezzo-like movement. After a day of play, every dog needs rest. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie, is a lyrical andante inspired by the profound serenity and beauty of a dog at rest. The Last Will and Testament of Silverdene Emblem O'Neill Based on a powerful piece of prose written by the American playwright, Eugene O'Neill this text was intended as a consolation piece for Carlotta, his wife, who had become grief-stricken over the loss of their beloved dog, the Dalmatian known as Blemie.Written for a singing actor who personifies the role of Blemie, a dog at the end of his life, the movement plays like a one act, musical drama as we follow Blemie through a wonderfully three-dimensional, emotional and psychological journey writing his Last Will and Testament, for those who have loved him. Wagging the Tail: Ossia Fido's Lament A life-affirming rumba/samba using Blemie's final words from O'Neill's text, this final movement employs the most unique American musical invention, the gospel choir. In order to make the dances come alive, this movement also calls upon the colors of a rhythm section. Creating the spirit of an Irish Funeral, the movement is a joyful and revival-like celebration of a dog's life as its spirit lives on forever in the hearts and minds of dog lovers everywhere. Remember Me, remember me! My spirit is wagging a grateful tail. Published by: Subito Music Publishing Release Date: July 9, 2013.

SKU: BT.YKM570369270

A Hymn to the Thames was commissioned by James Turnbull and the Music Director of the St Paul’s Sinfonia, Andrew Morley. It was begun in 2019 and completed early in 2020. There are four movements played without a break, which follow the Thames from its Cotswold source to the North Sea. As the first performance took place in St ALfege’s Church, Greenwich, this seemed appropriate. The solo oboe represents both a wanderer along the river path and the spirit of the river. The pitch centres of the movements spell out the musical letters of the river (tHAmES—B natural, A, E and E flat) so that the river’s name is projected across the whole work. In addition, the musical letters found in James Turnbull, Andrew Morley and my wife, Teresa Cahill ( who was born in Maidenhead and brought up by the river in Rotherhithe) are entwined in various guises. The first movement grows from the depths, the soloist entering with fanfare-like gestures, followed by lyrical music and breaks into a dance as the river gathers momentum. The third movement is slow and sustained and geographically the Thames flows through Oxford. The music is based on the well-known In Nomine ‘head motif’ from the Gloria tibi Trinitas Mass by the early Tudor composer, John Taverner, who was the first Director of Music at Christ Church, Oxford. The orchestra provides a screen or veil above which the solo oboe dreams and ruminates. This leads directly into the fourth and final movement which begins in the depths once more, interrupting the oboe’s held note from the end of the third movement. The waters’ increasing intensity and power are represented throughout by a moto perpetuo of quick, steady semiquavers. Near the close, the woodwind play O Nata Lux by Thomas Tallis, the great Tudor composer who, with his wife Joan, is buried in St Alfege’s. Beneath this, the lower strings continue the fast semiquaver movement of the river and, above, the violins are heard as a halo of harmonics. At the close, the oboe rises, opening out to the future, and celebrating its voyage, while the orchestra fades as the river meets the sea. A Hymn to the Thames lasts approximately 17 minutes.

SKU: HL.49018099

ISBN 9790001158428. UPC: 884088567347. 8.25x11.75x0.457 inches. Latin - German.

On letting go(Concerning the selection of the texts) In the selection of the texts, I have allowed myself to be motivated and inspired by the concept of 'letting go'. This appears to me to be one of the essential aspects of dying, but also of life itself. We humans cling far too strongly to successful achievements, whether they have to do with material or ideal values, or relationships of all kinds. We cannot and do not want to let go, almost as if our life depended on it. As we will have to practise the art of letting go at the latest during our hour of death, perhaps we could already make a start on this while we are still alive. Tagore describes this farewell with very simple but strikingly vivid imagery: 'I will return the key of my door'. I have set this text for tenor solo. Here I imagine, and have correspondingly noted in a certain passage of the score, that the protagonist finds himself as though 'in an ocean' of voices in which he is however not drowning, but immersing himself in complete relaxation. The phenomenon of letting go is described even more simply and tersely in Psalm 90, verse 12: 'So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom'. This cannot be expressed more plainly.I have begun the requiem with a solo boy's voice singing the beginning of this psalm on a single note, the note A. This in effect says it all. The work comes full circle at the culmination with a repeat of the psalm which subsequently leads into a resplendent 'lux aeterna'. The intermediate texts of the Requiem which highlight the phenomenon of letting go in the widest spectrum of colours originate on the one hand from the Latin liturgy of the Messa da Requiem (In Paradisum, Libera me, Requiem aeternam, Mors stupebit) and on the other hand from poems by Joseph von Eichendorff, Hermann Hesse, Rabindranath Tagore and Rainer Maria Rilke.All texts have a distinctive positive element in common and view death as being an organic process within the great system of the universe, for example when Hermann Hesse writes: 'Entreiss dich, Seele, nun der Zeit, entreiss dich deinen Sorgen und mache dich zum Flug bereit in den ersehnten Morgen' ['Tear yourself way , o soul, from time, tear yourself away from your sorrows and prepare yourself to fly away into the long-awaited morning'] and later: 'Und die Seele unbewacht will in freien Flugen schweben, um im Zauberkreis der Nacht tief und tausendfach zu leben' ['And the unfettered soul strives to soar in free flight to live in the magic sphere of the night, deep and thousandfold']. Or Joseph von Eichendorff whose text evokes a distant song in his lines: 'Und meine Seele spannte weit ihre Flugel aus. Flog durch die stillen Lande, als floge sie nach Haus' ['And my soul spread its wings wide. Flew through the still country as if homeward bound.']Here a strong romantically tinged occidental resonance can be detected which is however also accompanied by a universal spirit going far beyond all cultures and religions. In the beginning was the sound Long before any sort of word or meaningful phrase was uttered by vocal chords, sounds, vibrations and tones already existed. This brings us back to the music. Both during my years of study and at subsequent periods, I had been an active participant in the world of contemporary music, both as percussionist and also as conductor and composer. My early scores had a somewhat adventurous appearance, filled with an abundance of small black dots: no rhythm could be too complicated, no register too extreme and no harmony too dissonant. I devoted myself intensely to the handling of different parameters which in serial music coexist in total equality: I also studied aleatory principles and so-called minimal music.I subsequently emigrated and took up residence in Spain from where I embarked on numerous travels over the years to India, Africa and South America. I spent repeated periods during this time as a resident in non-European countries. This meant that the currents of contemporary music swept past me vaguely and at a great distance. What I instead absorbed during this period were other completely new cultures in which I attempted to immerse myself as intensively as possible.I learned foreign languages and came into contact with musicians of all classes and styles who had a different cultural heritage than my own: I was intoxicated with the diversity of artistic potential.Nevertheless, the further I distanced myself from my own Western musical heritage, the more this returned insistently in my consciousness.The scene can be imagined of sitting somewhere in the middle of the Brazilian jungle surrounded by the wailing of Indians and out of the blue being provided with the opportunity to hear Beethoven's late string quartets: this can be a heart-wrenching experience, akin to an identity crisis. This type of experience can also be described as cathartic. Whatever the circumstances, my 'renewed' occupation with the 'old' country would not permit me to return to the point at which I as an audacious young student had maltreated the musical parameters of so-called contemporary music. A completely different approach would be necessary: an extremely careful approach, inching my way gradually back into the Western world: an approach which would welcome tradition back into the fold, attempt to unfurl the petals and gently infuse this tradition with a breath of contemporary life.Although I am aware that I will not unleash a revolution or scandal with this approach, I am nevertheless confident as, with the musical vocabulary of this Requiem, I am travelling in an orbit in which no ballast or complex structures will be transported or intimated: on the contrary, I have attempted to form the message of the texts in music with the naivety of a 'homecomer'. Harald WeissColonia de San PedroMarch 2009.