Together Apart (2020) | guitar quartet | 16:00
Commissioned by Musica Canis Avem for the Atlantic Guitar Quartet, and premiered by them, May 2021, Baltimore MD.
A Song from the Corners
I saw you dancing in the snowfall, but you could not see me
After JSB
The work can be purchased here: Guitar Chamber Music Press
Program notes:
The title is a reference to the conditions at the time I was commissioned to compose this work, the time of covid-19. As it was being discussed, one of the possibilities for the performance was with the performers several feet apart. So, the title reflects that possible reality – playing together, but also separated. It also refers to the fact that ensembles work essentially that way – practice alone, and only on the occasions of a rehearsal come together in a single space.
The first movement is a reference to the idea of the “four corners” of the earth – a nice metaphor for a quartet. There is a simple melody that is introduced in a kind of hocket manner, each guitar playing part of the phrase; reiterations have the same melody embellished by the other guitars, quietly, and from a from a distance. There is a more vigorous contrasting middle section.
The second movement is a result of an author whose work I adore: Rachel Joyce. I won’t turn this into a book review, but she is a wonderful writer. In her third novel, The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy, the title character thinks back on a time in her past when she was deeply in love with a co-worker, who was married. She admires him from a distance, and at one point she sees him from several stories above in the factory where they work: he is taking something out to the trash, it is snowing, and he begins to dance alone – unaware that anyone is watching. The movement has reference to snow which functions as the accompaniment, while a dance unfolds underneath in guitars 3 and 4. After a central section that includes a chorale, the dance returns with both parts playing the same material, but one beat apart, and never in sync. Close, but ultimately never connected. It struck me as a metaphor for how we have lived during the pandemic – watching from our windows, our computer screens; close, but not in quite the same moment as those we wish to see.
I wanted the last movement to be a joyful one – either in anticipation of the pandemic having ended/controlled (in which case the concert is live), or at least a hopeful view of its end on the horizon. At the time I started writing it, I was playing through the 6thCello suite by Bach. The mood of the Prelude struck me as the kind of emotion I was looking for, so I used it as a springboard. I utilize a number of motives from the prelude, and hopefully have fashioned a movement that will be fun to play, and exuberant. The title is a double meaning – “after” in the sense of using a previous composers work as a springboard, and “after” in the very real meaning that we are all musicians who come after Bach, historically, and by ranking. There is Bach. Then, there are the rest of us.
Commissioned by Musica Canis Avem for the Atlantic Guitar Quartet, and premiered by them, May 2021, Baltimore MD.
A Song from the Corners
I saw you dancing in the snowfall, but you could not see me
After JSB
The work can be purchased here: Guitar Chamber Music Press
Program notes:
The title is a reference to the conditions at the time I was commissioned to compose this work, the time of covid-19. As it was being discussed, one of the possibilities for the performance was with the performers several feet apart. So, the title reflects that possible reality – playing together, but also separated. It also refers to the fact that ensembles work essentially that way – practice alone, and only on the occasions of a rehearsal come together in a single space.
The first movement is a reference to the idea of the “four corners” of the earth – a nice metaphor for a quartet. There is a simple melody that is introduced in a kind of hocket manner, each guitar playing part of the phrase; reiterations have the same melody embellished by the other guitars, quietly, and from a from a distance. There is a more vigorous contrasting middle section.
The second movement is a result of an author whose work I adore: Rachel Joyce. I won’t turn this into a book review, but she is a wonderful writer. In her third novel, The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy, the title character thinks back on a time in her past when she was deeply in love with a co-worker, who was married. She admires him from a distance, and at one point she sees him from several stories above in the factory where they work: he is taking something out to the trash, it is snowing, and he begins to dance alone – unaware that anyone is watching. The movement has reference to snow which functions as the accompaniment, while a dance unfolds underneath in guitars 3 and 4. After a central section that includes a chorale, the dance returns with both parts playing the same material, but one beat apart, and never in sync. Close, but ultimately never connected. It struck me as a metaphor for how we have lived during the pandemic – watching from our windows, our computer screens; close, but not in quite the same moment as those we wish to see.
I wanted the last movement to be a joyful one – either in anticipation of the pandemic having ended/controlled (in which case the concert is live), or at least a hopeful view of its end on the horizon. At the time I started writing it, I was playing through the 6thCello suite by Bach. The mood of the Prelude struck me as the kind of emotion I was looking for, so I used it as a springboard. I utilize a number of motives from the prelude, and hopefully have fashioned a movement that will be fun to play, and exuberant. The title is a double meaning – “after” in the sense of using a previous composers work as a springboard, and “after” in the very real meaning that we are all musicians who come after Bach, historically, and by ranking. There is Bach. Then, there are the rest of us.
1st movement:
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2nd movement:
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3rd movement.
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