Consort Music Of Five and Six Parts: Ensemble

SKU: ST.MB101

ISBN 9790220224898.

Complementing their achievements as composers of Italianate vocal music represented elsewhere in the series, this volume brings together consort works by two English Catholics who left England for the continent. Philips belonged to a generation that focused on stylised dance rather than fantasia, and many of his five-part consort dances exist also as keyboard pieces. Dering was born a generation later. Whereas his five-part fantasias were core repertoire for early 17th-century viol players, interest in the stylised dance had by then begun to wane. Several of Dering's pavans and almaines survive in a single source only, and lack outer parts, which have been completed by the editor.

SKU: ST.MB67

ISBN 9790220217784.

A contemporary of Gibbons and a noted madrigalist, Ward was also a prolific composer of consort music in the madrigalian style. This volume of extant instrumental works of five and six parts complements the collection of four-part fantasias and ayres for two bass viols and organ published in MB83.

SKU: ST.MB83

ISBN 9790220221323.

John Ward's music for four viols shows less consistency of style than his work for five- or six-part consort. The smooth madrigalian lines of the six Oxford fantasias most clearly approach the accomplishment of his characteristic pieces for larger ensembles. The Paris fantasias, which with the In nomines also included in the collection feature uniquely in a single source in the Bibliotheque Nationale de France, are more variable in texture and idiom. The volume also includes six ayres for two bass viols and organ, brief, tuneful compositions in dance-like rhythm redolent of the almain.

SKU: PR.165001000

ISBN 9781491129241. UPC: 680160669776. 9 x 12 inches.

Commissioned for a consortium of high school and college bands in the north Dallas region, FOR THEMYSTIC HARMONY is a 10-minute inspirational work in homage to Norwood and Elizabeth Dixon,patrons of the Fort Worth Symphony and the Van Cliburn Competition. Welcher draws melodic flavorfrom five American hymns, spirituals, and folk tunes of the 19th century. The last of these sources toappear is the hymn tune For the Beauty of the Earth, whose third stanza is the quatrain: “For the joy of earand eye, For the heart and mind’s delight, For the mystic harmony, Linking sense to sound and sight,”giving rise to the work’s title.
This work, commissioned for a consortium of high school bands in the north Dallas area, is my fifteenth maturework for wind ensemble (not counting transcriptions). When I asked Todd Dixon, the band director whospearheaded this project, what kind of a work he most wanted, he first said “something that’s basically slow,” butwanted to leave the details to me. During a long subsequent conversation, he mentioned that his grandparents,Norwood and Elizabeth Dixon, were prime supporters of the Fort Worth Symphony, going so far as to purchase anumber of high quality instruments for that orchestra. This intrigued me, so I asked more about his grandparentsand was provided an 80-page biographical sketch. Reading that article, including a long section about theirdevotion to supporting a young man through the rigors of the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition fora number of years, moved me very much. Norwood and Elizabeth Dixon weren’t just supporters of the arts; theywere passionate lovers of music and musicians. I determined to make this work a testament to that love, and tothe religious faith that sustained them both. The idea of using extant hymns was also suggested by Todd Dixon,and this 10-minute work is the result.I have employed existing melodies in several works, delving into certain kinds of religious music more than a fewtimes. In seeking new sounds, new ways of harmonizing old tunes, and the contrapuntal overlaying of one tunewith another, I was able to make works like ZION (using 19th-century Revivalist hymns) and LABORING SONGS(using Shaker melodies) reflect the spirit of the composers who created these melodies, without sounding likepastiches or medleys. I determined to do the same with this new work, with the added problem of employingmelodies that were more familiar. I chose five tunes from the 19th century: hymns, spirituals, and folk-tunes.Some of these are known by differing titles, but they all appear in hymnals of various Christian denominations(with various titles and texts). My idea was to employ the tunes without altering their notes, instead using aconstantly modulating sense of harmony — sometimes leading to polytonal harmonizations of what are normallysimple four-chord hymns.The work begins and ends with a repeated chime on the note C: a reminder of steeples, white clapboard churchesin the country, and small church organs. Beginning with a Mixolydian folk tune of Caribbean origin presentedtwice with layered entrances, the work starts with a feeling of mystery and gentle sorrow. It proceeds, after along transition, into a second hymn that is sometimes connected to the sea (hence the sensation of water andwaves throughout it). This tune, by John B. Dykes (1823-1876), is a bit more chromatic and “shifty” than mosthymn-tunes, so I chose to play with the constant sensation of modulation even more than the original does. Atthe climax, the familiar spiritual “Were you there?” takes over, with a double-time polytonal feeling propelling itforward at “Sometimes it causes me to tremble.”Trumpets in counterpoint raise the temperature, and the tempo as well, leading the music into a third tune (ofunknown provenance, though it appears with different texts in various hymnals) that is presented in a sprightlymanner. Bassoons introduce the melody, but it is quickly taken up by other instruments over three “verses,”constantly growing in orchestration and volume. A mysterious second tune, unrelated to this one, interrupts it inall three verses, sending the melody into unknown regions.The final melody is “For the Beauty of the Earth.” This tune by Conrad Kocher (1786-1872) is commonly sung atThanksgiving — the perfect choice to end this work celebrating two people known for their generosity.Keeping the sense of constant modulation that has been present throughout, I chose to present this hymn in threegrowing verses, but with a twist: every four bars, the “key” of the hymn seems to shift — until the “Lord of all, toThee we praise” melody bursts out in a surprising compound meter. This, as it turns out, was the “mystery tune”heard earlier in the piece. After an Ivesian, almost polytonal climax, the Coda begins over a long B( pedal. At first,it seems to be a restatement of the first two phrases of “For the Beauty” with long spaces between them, but it soonchanges to a series of “Amen” cadences, widely separated by range and color. These, too, do not conform to anykey, but instead overlay each other in ways that are unpredictable but strangely comforting.The third verse of “For the Beauty of the Earth” contains this quatrain:“For the joy of ear and eye, –For the heart and mind’s delightFor the mystic harmonyLinking sense to sound and sight”and it was from this poetry that I drew the title for the present work. It is my hope that audiences and performerswill find within it a sense of grace: more than a little familiar, but also quite new and unexpected.

SKU: PR.165000970

ISBN 9781491100462. UPC: 680160626717. 9x12 inches.

Commissioned by a consortium of 20 high school and university bands coordinated by Scott Hanna of the University of Texas at Austin, Downshifting is inspired by Welcher’s joy of bicycle riding. Welcher explains in the program note: When I decided to write a piece for band that was basically entertaining and uplifting, it made perfect sense to call it Downshifting... With three gears on the front sprocket and seven on the rear, it’s possible to keep one’s legs going at a constant speed (for me, q = 126) while the bike itself may be moving very slowly or very quickly. I determined to capitalize on this in writing Downshifting, which keeps the same mathematical inner pulse, ‘shifting’ (with a ratchet) as the terrain changes..
One of the joys of life for me is riding my 21-speed bicycle.  As a basically non-athletic person who nonetheless likes to stay in shape, I have found that riding my bike provides just the exercise I need.  The workout is strenuous, but pleasant—and the infinite variety of scenery I pass keeps me alert and wide awake.  When I decided to write a piece for band that was basically entertaining and uplifting, it made perfect sense to call it Downshifting.With three gears on the front sprocket and seven on the rear, it’s possible to keep ones legs going at a constant speed (for me, that’s 126 to the quarter note) while the bike itself may be moving very slowly or very quickly.  I determined to capitalize on this in writing the music, which manages to keep the same mathematical inner pulse, “shifting” (with a ratchet) as the terrain changes.  So Downshifting begins with that steady pulse, on a grid of eighth notes in 2/4 to propel the little vehicle forward.  There’s a joyous little tune in our heads as we begin our ride.  As the initial thrill of riding on the flat gives way to monotony, we stay in that pulse for the first minute or so of the ride.  Then, as the first hill becomes visible, we shift the bike down: even though the eighths are equal, the pulse feels slower (and we’re now in 6/8 time).  Ultimately the compound meter shifts again as the climb begins, and we’re now plodding doggedly up the hill.  (The music reflects all of these changes, with subtitles such as “Working harder—Seeing the climb, ahead”, “Steady and committed…the climb begins!”, “Straining against the grade”, etc.).There are two hills, and two long climbs (but in different keys, reflecting the change in scenery).  When at last the summit of the second hill is reached (“Flying, Over the Top”), we coast at last down the other side at breakneck speed.  The initial joyous melody returns, but now in a spread-out coasting pulse.  At the end of the ride, we slow to a stop—then take one last sprint (shifting five times in the process) in order to end on a biker’s high.Downshifting was commissioned by a consortium of fourteen high school and college bands, overseen by my longtime colleague at the University of Texas, Scott Hanna.  The piece is dedicated to him (and to all bicycle enthusiasts).