Boy Meets Horn

SKU: PR.114420410

UPC: 680160687015.

In one of the dedicatory poems to his verse play The Shadowy Waters (1906), William Butler Yeats asks: Is Eden far away...? Do our woods and winds and verponds cover more quiet woods, More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds? Is Eden out of time and out of space? How do you answer such questions? We have only the vague elusive promptings of our own mysterious, troubled hearts to tell us that the Eden we long for is there, somewhere beyond the physical world which frames our existence, in another realm of different dimensions. And - what is most painful to admit - that it is closed to us in the form in which we live and breathe, even if at times we do have intimations..., Yeats is telling us that this paradise, this Eden we yearn for is here - present even if invisible, palpable even if intangible. In his Second Symphony, Mahler meets an angel who tells him he can't get into heaven, he's locked out. The news is shattering. What follows is an inconsolable sorrowing, the same sorrowing that comes when we wake to the realization that we too are locked out of Eden. Eden is the heaven of our longing and desire for release from pain and suffering. Eden is the image in our restive minds that reflects the reconciled, resolved, quiescent state of soul we hunger for. But Eden eludes -because it is not a place. It is a state of soul which answers none of the illusory, hampering conditions that shape and bind us to the real world of our bodies, our appetites, our passions, and our beliefs. I have turned Yeats' question Is Eden out of time and out of space? into its own answering. However near we may sense its presence at times, Eden remains unreachable, ungraspable, unknowable, unthinkable. It forever eludes us. I wrote this music the way I did to shut out -with quietness and otherworldliness - the clamor and clang of the raucous Garish Day, to turn away its tumult and noise, to negate its stridency and chaos. Perhaps in the cleansing stillness and blessing of this emptied-out state of soul, Eden, through still hidden, may not be so far way; though still unreachable, may be close enough almost to touch.
In one of the dedicatory poems to his verse play “The Shadowy Waters” (1906), William Butler Yeats asks:“Is Eden far away…?Do our woods and windsand verponds cover morequiet woods,More shining winds,more star-glimmeringponds?Is Eden out of timeand out of space?”How do you answer such questions? We have only the vague elusive promptings of our own mysterious, troubled hearts to tell us that the Eden we long for is there, somewhere beyond the physical world which frames our existence, in another realm of different dimensions. And – what is most painful to admit – that it is closed to us in the form in which we live and breathe, even if at times we do have intimations…, Yeats is telling us that this paradise, this Eden we yearn for is here – present even if invisible, palpable even if intangible.In his Second Symphony, Mahler meets an angel who tells him he can’t get into heaven, he’s locked out. The news is shattering. What follows is an inconsolable sorrowing, the same sorrowing that comes when we wake to the realization that we too are locked out of Eden.Eden is the heaven of our longing and desire for release from pain and suffering. Eden is the image in our restive minds that reflects the reconciled, resolved, quiescent state of soul we hunger for. But Eden eludes –because it is not a place. It is a state of soul which answers none of the illusory, hampering conditions that shape and bind us to the real world of our bodies, our appetites, our passions, and our beliefs.I have turned Yeats’ question “Is Eden out of time and out of space?” into its own answering. However near we may sense its presence at times, Eden remains unreachable, ungraspable, unknowable, unthinkable. It forever eludes us.I wrote this music the way I did to shut out –with quietness and otherworldliness – the clamor and clang of the raucous “Garish Day,” to turn away its tumult and noise, to negate its stridency and chaos. Perhaps in the cleansing stillness and blessing of this emptied-out state of soul, Eden, through still hidden, may not be so far way; though still unreachable, may be close enough almost to touch.

SKU: PR.11442041S

UPC: 680160687022.

In one of the dedicatory poems to his verse play The Shadowy Waters (1906), William Butler Yeats asks: Is Eden far away...? Do our woods and winds and verponds cover more quiet woods, More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds? Is Eden out of time and out of space? How do you answer such questions? We have only the vague elusive promptings of our own mysterious, troubled hearts to tell us that the Eden we long for is there, somewhere beyond the physical world which frames our existence, in another realm of different dimensions. And - what is most painful to admit - that it is closed to us in the form in which we live and breathe, even if at times we do have intimations..., Yeats is telling us that this paradise, this Eden we yearn for is here - present even if invisible, palpable even if intangible. In his Second Symphony, Mahler meets an angel who tells him he can't get into heaven, he's locked out. The news is shattering. What follows is an inconsolable sorrowing, the same sorrowing that comes when we wake to the realization that we too are locked out of Eden. Eden is the heaven of our longing and desire for release from pain and suffering. Eden is the image in our restive minds that reflects the reconciled, resolved, quiescent state of soul we hunger for. But Eden eludes -because it is not a place. It is a state of soul which answers none of the illusory, hampering conditions that shape and bind us to the real world of our bodies, our appetites, our passions, and our beliefs. I have turned Yeats' question Is Eden out of time and out of space? into its own answering. However near we may sense its presence at times, Eden remains unreachable, ungraspable, unknowable, unthinkable. It forever eludes us. I wrote this music the way I did to shut out -with quietness and otherworldliness - the clamor and clang of the raucous Garish Day, to turn away its tumult and noise, to negate its stridency and chaos. Perhaps in the cleansing stillness and blessing of this emptied-out state of soul, Eden, through still hidden, may not be so far way; though still unreachable, may be close enough almost to touch.
In one of the dedicatory poems to his verse play “The Shadowy Waters” (1906), William Butler Yeats asks:“Is Eden far away…?Do our woods and windsand verponds cover morequiet woods,More shining winds,more star-glimmeringponds?Is Eden out of timeand out of space?”How do you answer such questions? We have only the vague elusive promptings of our own mysterious, troubled hearts to tell us that the Eden we long for is there, somewhere beyond the physical world which frames our existence, in another realm of different dimensions. And – what is most painful to admit – that it is closed to us in the form in which we live and breathe, even if at times we do have intimations…, Yeats is telling us that this paradise, this Eden we yearn for is here – present even if invisible, palpable even if intangible.In his Second Symphony, Mahler meets an angel who tells him he can’t get into heaven, he’s locked out. The news is shattering. What follows is an inconsolable sorrowing, the same sorrowing that comes when we wake to the realization that we too are locked out of Eden.Eden is the heaven of our longing and desire for release from pain and suffering. Eden is the image in our restive minds that reflects the reconciled, resolved, quiescent state of soul we hunger for. But Eden eludes –because it is not a place. It is a state of soul which answers none of the illusory, hampering conditions that shape and bind us to the real world of our bodies, our appetites, our passions, and our beliefs.I have turned Yeats’ question “Is Eden out of time and out of space?” into its own answering. However near we may sense its presence at times, Eden remains unreachable, ungraspable, unknowable, unthinkable. It forever eludes us.I wrote this music the way I did to shut out –with quietness and otherworldliness – the clamor and clang of the raucous “Garish Day,” to turn away its tumult and noise, to negate its stridency and chaos. Perhaps in the cleansing stillness and blessing of this emptied-out state of soul, Eden, through still hidden, may not be so far way; though still unreachable, may be close enough almost to touch.

SKU: CA.5165109

ISBN 9790007225278. Key: C minor. Language: Latin.

The C Minor Mass K. 427 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is a fascinating work. But to speak of the Mass is inaccurate, for basically it is no more than a musical torso, full of enigmas and problems, yet full of magnificent music. It is hardly surprising that attempts have been made to create a performable version of Mozart's fragment since the 19th century. Depending on the date of reconstruction and background of the arranger, these attempts sound quite different, and often the individual style of the respective arranger can be clearly discerned. Now Frieder Bernius and Uwe Wolf have published a new edition of the Mozart mass which attempts to produce a performing version whilst maintaining the greatest respect for the available material, and without obscuring Mozart's musical manuscript with their own contributions. The joint version by Wolf, a renowned musicologist, and Bernius, an expert in historically-informed performance practice, is based on a thorough knowledge of Mozart's compositions, his notational habits, and church music practice of Mozart's day. At the same time it fully meets the requirements of today's performance practice. As well as the paperback full score, we are publishing a high-quality clothbound full score including a Facsimile Supplement with selected reproductions of the sources. A first recording of this version, with the Kammerchor Stuttgart and the Barockorchester Stuttgart conducted by Frieder Bernius, is also available. Score and parts available separately - see item CA.5165100.