Listening Log №11 – Kaija Saariaho – Asteroid 4179, Toutatis (2005)

I’m going to take a break before finishing the assigned series on solo woodwinds from the previous few entries to focus the next few posts on some works from composers I’ve been into recently, outside of the course assignments and just in my general listening. Furthermore, the recent list of assigned compositions for woodwind were completely lacking in any female composers (something which became very evident when I compiled all the portraits I’ve been posting with the entries!). I will keep this in mind by varying more the styles, genres, geographies, periods, instrumentation, etc. to hopefully keep this interesting and fresh for anyone who might read it.

Having said, this log entry features Kaija Saariaho (b. 1952), a contemporary composer from Finland associated with the spectralist movement. Saariaho has been an active explorer in combining electronic and acoustic sound sources for ensembles of varying sizes and instrumentation¹.

The piece for this entry is a short orchestral piece from 2005 titled Asteroid 4179, Toutatis composed in 2005 by Saariaho and inspired by the potentially hazardous asteroid of the same name. The work was comissioned by the Berliner Philharmoniker for a project surrounding a release of Gustav Holst’s The Planets. The composition lasts between 3.5 to 4 minutes and is composed for a large orchestral ensemble. Saariaho was inspired by the unusual tumbling rotation of the asteroid which would mean that the path of any objects viewed from the asteroid would not repeat.

Right off the bat, I will admit that while this piece makes for an intense and engaging listening experience, this is a challenging piece to write about. The piece begins with very soft and sparse instrumentation, with the celesta and woodwinds providing the first hints of movement above a soft pad of strings and percussion. The melodic movement starts to tumble and tangle within itself as the woodwinds, harps, and celesta begin to come in with unrelated clashing melodies. Beneath them the brass enters into the first of a few different climaxes of the piece.

The next section of the piece is dominated by ostinato (obstinate, repeating) patterns in the strings and brass. This might be a cheeky nod to The Planets, it’s hard to tell. The next section has some really interesting notation for the way in which the strings are instructed to enter and exit in a staggered fashion. A really interesting effect is created by these staggered entries set only a beat appart at times, even within sections I have become really interested in meticulous notation choices by composers such as what is shown below:

There are some very intense and unpredictable peaks of energy in the piece. These peaks are brought on by a sudden crescendo from the brass and then ease off to a dynamic only slightly higher than in the previous section. In that sense the piece is continually growing in volume but the illusion of growth is tamed by a sudden pull in the dynamics to give ample room for further growth. Having had the score to read with the piece (which the composer has for free in her website²) made for a really engaging listening experience as many of these nuances can be apreciated with more detail.

On a side note, I find it fantastic and a bit funny that this piece was commissioned from Saariaho to go along with another release of The Planets. In contrast to Holst’s highly personal and jovial view on astrology, listening to Asteroid 4179 brings up a desolate version of outer space, far more consonant with our often-hard-to-swallow lonely existence. I’m not sure how well the different styles in this record fit, I’m also curious to hear how someone who is keen to buy another recording of The Planets would feel about these additions, but it’s interesting to see how the way we musicalize the cosmos has evolved over the years.

References: 
1. https://saariaho.org/biography/
2. https://saariaho.org/works/asteroid-4179-toutatis/

Recording: 
Saariaho, K., Rattle, S., Berliner Philharmoniker. 2006. Holst: The Planets. Berlin: EMI. [online]

Sheet music:
Saariaho, K. 2005. Asteroid 4179 - Toutatis. New York: Chester Music. [online]

Listening Log №10 – Paul Creston – Sonata for Alto Saxophone and Piano, Op.19 (1939)

This is the fifth entry in the series of short log posts about pieces for solo woodwind instruments. The subject of this entry will be the Sonata for alto saxophone and piano composed by the Italian-American composer Paul Creston in 1939.

Born in New York to Italian parents, Paul Creston (1906-1985)_¹ was a self-taught composer, author, pianist and conductor whose vast output of over 150 works remain popular staples of large ensemble repertoire in the USA. This Sonata for Alto Saxophone and Piano is the first work that I have listened to which was composed exclusively for the saxophone. I am guilty of subconsciously slotting the saxophone everywhere and anywhere but the realm of what’s annoyingly called “classical” music, a stereotype for which I still have no explanation. I am aware of the expressive capabilities of the saxophone, in all of timbre, colour, phrasing, flexibility, tonality, etc., yet it is not an instrument that is often seen outside of popular styles like jazz, blues, and pop. I hope this piece inspires me to reach out to more music composed for this instrument and to promote it as it deserves.

The Sonata follows a standard sonata first movement form and features both the piano and saxophone heavily. I was surprised that a piece with “accompaniment” was suggested as part of the list of compositions, however, this was very nice in hindsight. The full expressive potential of the saxophone is explored in this piece, particularly its ability to handle long flowing phrases with quick an subtle jumps in register. The full dynamic palette of the saxophone is also deployed with soft passages to aggressive fortissimo attacks.

The tonality of the piece feels ambiguous at many points throughout, but the heavy emphasis on melodic lines (usually from the sax, but often carried in response by the piano, see image below) means that the ear is easily led in and out of any tonal centres with ease. There is also a heavy amount of chromaticism throughout, but this is never done without a sense of purpose and the piano is often there to guide the chromatic lines and to give them a wider harmonic context. Similarly, the meter of the piece can feel a bit ambiguous as both phrasing and accent are pushed and pulled beyond and before the natural strong beats.

Brief excerpt showing thematic interplay between the saxophone and piano.

Although the focus of this entry is on the saxophone and woodwind instruments in general, an entire post could be done about the virtuosic piano parts. Although this work is regarded for its saxophone writing, the piano sections are very challenging and often feature on their own. The piano often provides really interesting counterpoint in the left hand to the saxophone’s lead, with the piano right hand doing most of the chordal work. Although the piano and saxophone operate in similar register in this piece, there’s never any ambiguity in who carries which section because of the difference in timbre and phrasing from each instrument as well as the contrasting features of the written parts.

This was a tremendously enjoyable piece to listen to, though not very challenging it has many elements which make it a really enjoyable listening experience. I would definitely recommend this as an introduction to compositions for the saxophone.

References: 
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Paul-Creston

Recording: 
Creston, P., Sinta, D., True, N. 2011. American Music. New York: Mark Records. [online]

Sheet music:
Creston, P. 1945. Sonata, Op. 19. Delaware: Shawnee Press. [online]

Listening Log №9 – Alan Hovhaness – Lament (1935)

This is the fourth short entry dedicated to compositions for solo woodwind. I listened to Alan Hovhaness’ short piece for solo clarinet Lament.

Alan Hovhaness (1911-2000) was an influential and prolific 20th century Armenian-American composer. His large output of works for a wide variety of ensembles has famously combined influences of Armenian, Middle Eastern, Indian, and Asian origin¹. Hovhaness studied the musical traditions of India and Japan over a series of trips undertraken between 1959 and 1963, where he immersed himself in the study of Carnatic music in India, the Ah-ak style of Korea, and the gagaku tradition of Japan. In the 1940s, Hovhaness famously destroyed much of his musical output written before his experimentation with these different musical traditions as he was dissatisfied with his early compositions.

The short piece Lament for solo clarinet was composed in 1935, before his trips to India and Asia, but already shows the harmonic influence from these musical traditions. The piece itself makes extensive use of the low register of the clarinet – often referred to as the chalumeau register (from E1-Bb2), named after a precursor to the clarinet. Aside from the use of the chalumeau register, there are some examples of extended techniques for the clarinet including glissandi and register jumps.

The piece itself is a very slow moving largo with a very gradual and limited development in the main thematic idea of the composition. I think the tradition on which this piece is based would not call for a contrasting middle section, as might be the case with other musical forms. From the previous solo pieces I’ve listened to for this listening log this might be first that does not move away from the main theme of the piece, but varies it very subtly throughout the development of the piece. There is variation in the phrasing and dynamics of the piece which hint at dramatic peaks within the composition.

I am a fan of Hovhaness’ music and his extensive musical output means that I’m always finding new pieces to listen to, so I was very happy to see the Lament included in the recommended listening for woodwinds, a piece I’d never heard of before. Hovhaness has been widely recognized for his extensive use of elements from traditions coming from outside of what is commonly called western traditions in classical music. The time from when this piece was written is a good insight into the stylistic development of a young composer who knew the instrument very well.

References: 
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Alan-Hovhaness

Recording: 
Hovhaness, A., Thorsten, G. 2016. 'Lament'. [online]

Listening Log №8 – Benjamin Britten – Six Metamorphoses after Ovid, No. 4: Bacchus (1951)

In the third of the series focusing on solo woodwind pieces I’m looking at the first movement of Benjamin Britten’s Six Metamorphoses after Ovid, a composition for solo oboe.

Benjamin Britten (1913-1976)¹ was a highly influential English composer and pianist, known primarily for his work in opera. Britten composed the Six Metamorphoses after Ovid in 1951 and it premiered at the Aldeburgh Festival, with the premiere performance of the piece taking place with both performer and audience on boats. I had a listen to the piece in its entirety (a total of around 15 minutes) first without the sheet music and then with the sheet music to see how the music was notated and which particularities for the oboe were indicated by the composer. I will focus on the fourth piece, titled Bacchus after the god of wine, fertility, festivity and theatre.

This piece has a very playful and drunken feel to it, and knowing that it is written after Bacchus it makes sense. The main idea of the piece is a bouncy dotted-eigth-sixteenth pattern in which the phrases get slightly longer, as if stumbling to get to a destination.

Britten’s theme development in the Bacchus movement (annotations are my own)

Having listened to different recordings of this movement, this main theme is interpreted with vastly different degrees of flexible time and rubato (or drunkness, to be more descriptive). Some performers even take to theatric swaying to accompany this theme, which is an almost natural tendency when interpreting this. The recording below sticks to a rigid meter, for example:

The composer is very careful to notate articulations for the player, for example the ascending sixteenths in the main theme are rigorously marked marcato to contrast the legato markings of the syncopated rhythm described above. The marcato phrasing is very quick in the piece, so the oboist must change articulations very quickly. This movement makes use of the full register of the oboe and requires the player to play long continuous phrases with a single breath. I’m unsure of the ability of the oboe to allow for long phrases such as those written here for performers, but I would imagine that the difference in pressure between woodwinds with double reeds and those without would mean that phrases of this length might not be feasible with other aerophones.

References:
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Benjamin-Britten

Recording: 
Britten, B., Krejčí, J. 2018. 'Six Metamorphoses after Ovid, No. 4: Bacchus' Britten: Oboe Works. Prague: SUPRAPHON. [online]

Listening Log №7 – Robin Walker – A Rune for St. Mary’s (2003)

In the second of a series focusing on compositions for solo woodwind instruments I’m having a listen to the solo-recorder composition A Rune for St. Mary’s by contemporary English composer Robin Walker (b. York, 1953)¹.

The first impression of the piece, from the opening section, is that it has a very pastoral quality to it. This could be due in part to the choice of instrumentation (a solo descant recorder), but also due to the simple flowing pentatonic and diatonic lines that start off the piece. I find it particularly hard to describe when something sounds pastoral (and it means different things in different regions and traditions), but this piece conjures imagery which matches the way that I imagine the wide English countryside. Similarly, sections of the piece appear to draw a lot from the English folk song tradition (to my ears) and that contributes to the mood of the composition.

Dove Scar, near Leyburn (Wikimedia Commons)

The composition appears begins in the key of A minor and flows in-and-out of a minor locrian tonality within A minor. This is achieved by often incorporating the b6 degree of the A minor scale in both ascending and descending lines. This is done sporadically and it’s a clear shift in the mood of the piece. This tonalities may sound both exotic and familiar, but it is not often that you hear pieces in minor locrian tonality, and juxtaposing this with a natural minor tonality is a very strong effect.

The piece contains a section towards the middle of the piece (from around the 2:58 mark on the link above) where there’s a glissando technique used on the recorder. I don’t have the score for this particular piece, but I would love to see how this is notated. This is quite a jarring short moment in the tune after having been treated to very tonal sections preceding it. After this chromatic-glissandi interlude, the melodic lines continue in a familiar fashion, but the composer makes use of more exotic tonalities which are just subtly different enough to keep the listener engaged.

This particular recording is very interesting for the way the space left in the piece for silences are left to resonate in the naturally reverberant environment in which this was recorded. The piece has lent itself very naturally to these acoustics and I would wonder if the composer had this in mind while composing the piece (given that it was composed in 2003, this seems likely!). With regards to the recording, the label which released this particular version had this to say in the release announcement notes:

While in Stockport, John Turner will record Walker’s solo recorder piece A Rune for St Mary’s. St. Mary’s is the parish church of Stockport and the ‘rune’ the piece is based on is a thousand-year-old stone cross in a field above the farm where the composer lives in the Pennine Hills of Northern England. From some angles it looks like a cross – from other angles it seems to be a primitive stone face presiding over the hillside.

This is a piece I’ve listened to many times since choosing it for an entry in the log, and without having found a score to supplement the listening experience it has been interesting to listen out for the very subtle modifications that the composer colours his composition with. Similarly, this is the first entry dedicated to a contemporary composer, which I hope to do more of in coming entries as this was hugely enjoyable.

Further reading on Robin Walker (from David Matthews – Composer)

References: 
1. https://divineartrecords.com/tag/robin-walker/

Recording: 
Robin, W., Turner, J. 2019. 'A Rune for St. Mary's' Turning Towards You. Barnsley: Divine Art. [online]

Listening Log №6 – Jacques Ibert – Pièce (1936)

This is the first of a series of entries reflecting on compositions for solo woodwind, as suggested in the course material. The reflections dealing with solo woodwind compositions will be slightly shorter, however there will be space dedicated to more in depth reflection in Project 6.

The first piece I’ve chosen is for solo flute and is titled Pièce by eclectic French composer Jacques Ibert (1890-1962)¹ Ibert is known for the variety of his content in terms of style, structure, orchestration, and format, which makes it hard to pin-point an exclusive style.

The Pièce is composed of roughly two contrasting sections (A and B), which are arranged in an ABA format. Section A (Andante) contains the most memorable theme in the composition, however as the piece is not written in any particular key the motif is a series of descending triplets followed by a jump in a register. This movement is very lyrical and the composer introduces numerous variations in the main theme, varying rhythm and subverting harmonic expectations.

Measures 21-26, showing the main thematic content of Section A.

Section B (Vivo) provides significant contrast to the opening section, with a faster tempo and significant chromaticism. The dynamic content of this section is much more varied than that found in section A. While the opening section appears to be in a constant decrescendo, section B features a wider dynamic palate, which the composer uses to great effect to highlight the virtuosic chromatic passages. Thought highly chromatic, this section has passages where a diminished tonality is evident, but it’s for fleeting moments only, and these end up sounding very consonant in contrast with the chromaticism.

I think this is the first piece for solo woodwind I’ve sat down to listen to carefully. As expected of a piece that aims to highlight the features of the instrument its composed for, nearly the entire register of the flute is covered by this composition (db1 to d4). I found it hard to follow the structure originally, as the solo instrument provides its own context. However, after repeated listening the structure and content of the piece made themselves evident and it the image of a self contained composition became clear.

References: 
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Jacques-Ibert

Recording: 
Debost, M. 2013. 'Piece' Flûte Panorama. Paris: Skarbo. [online]

Sheet music:
Ibert, J. 1936. Pièce, pour flûte seule. Paris: Alphonse Leduc. [online]

Listening Log №5 – Heitor Villa-Lobos – Bachianas Brasileiras 6 (1938)

This week’s Listening Log entry is dedicated to the Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos and his sixth suite (of a total of nine) of the ‘Bachianas Brasileiras’, composed in 1938. This will be first of the blog entries that tries to have as a focus the topic of melody corresponding to Part 2 of the course on Composing Music.

Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959)¹ was a prominent Brazilian composer and educator of the first half of the 20th century. His music is rich with elements of Brazilian folk music and has been variously responsible for popularizing the musical tradition of his native country, even before the advent in popularity of samba and bossa-nova in the second half of the 20th century. His music often features intricate contrapuntal features in the manner of Bach, and it is in this context that the pieces titled Bachianas Brasileiras emerge.

Written between 1930 and 1945, upon his return to Brazil after a decade living and working in Paris, the Bachianas (meaning in the style of Bach, in Portuguese) are a homage to the Baroque techniques of counterpoint and of the musical heritage of Brazil. Totalling nine individual works, the focus of this blog entry is on the sixth of these pieces composed for bassoon and flute in two movements (Ária/chôro and Fantasia).

The piece has long, challenging, scalar phrases in the flute, which have a very improvisational feel to them. While I’m not an expert on Bach’s music, this type of exposition would be one of the features that I loosely associate with his music, so this is the first hint I pick up from Villa-Lobos that his source material comes from Bach. The bassoon develops the harmony of the passage with a subtle counterpoint which counters the flute’s virtuosic runs. The choice of notes in the bassoon is very pleasant and melancholic.

I particularly enjoyed searching for the chôro, a traditional Brazilian style of music from the late 19th century, in this composition. To me this was most evident in both the melancholy tone of the interlocking melodic lines, but most interestingly in the syncopated rhythms of the counterpoint introduced by the bassoon. The composer modified his original rhythm with triplets in order to break the expected arrival of the strong beats, which to my ears was an instant draw to traditional Brazilian styles.

Syncopated rhythm of the bassoon’s theme

References: 
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Heitor-Villa-Lobos

Recording: 
Estill C., Cratton E., 2005. 'Bachianas brasileiras No. 6: I. Aria: Choro' Villa-Lobos: Bachianas Brasileiras (Complete). Hong Kong: Naxos. [online]

Sheet music:
Villa-Lobos, A. 1946. Bachianas Brasileiras No. 6 for Flute and Bassoon. New York: Associated Music Publishers. [online]

Listening Log №4 – Alberto Ginastera – Cantata para América Mágica (1960)

The subject of this final Listening Log entry for the series on rhythm and percussion is the Argentine composer Alberto Ginastera, in particular the fourth movement of his piece for soprano voice and percussion titled ‘Cantata para América Mágica’, composed in 1960 and premiered the following year. This Listening Log entry ties up well with the previous entry on Carlos Chávez, as it served as a great introduction to music written for percussion ensemble and it led me to this composition by Ginastera. Having played some of Ginastera’s works on piano in the past, I was aware of the wide reach of Ginastera’s compositions, in terms of style, themes, and instrumentation, yet I was still taken aback by a piece with this particular instrumentation.

Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983) was a leading Argentine composer¹ known for his extensive output of works including numerous operas, chamber pieces, piano sonatas, vocal pieces, as well as film and television music. Though his stylistic output evolved throughout his extensive career, there’s is an underlying traditionalist theme to his work which draws heavily from the folklore traditions of Argentina and, more broadly, from Latin America.

The cantata is made up of six movements, and the score details different 53 percussion instruments performed by 16 players, as well as a dramatic soprano voice. The piano and celesta is classed as a percussion instruments in this composition and two pianos feature in the score. I chose to focus on the fourth movement, titled ‘Interludio Fantástico’, which features percussion without the soprano lead.

Without having looked at the score, the first listen of this movement proved a bit easier to follow the percussion than in the previous movements, where the voice has a prominent leading role. The interaction between the instruments is at its most clear in this movement. However, this is a very challenging piece regardless for both listener and performer.

The score indicates that the piece should be played “sempre ppp” with no additional dynamic markings. However there are sections in the piece where the density of the instrumentation is such that the resulting perceived dynamics are significantly louder. The score includes very detailed descriptions about what mallets to be used and the sizes of drums needed to achieve these effects, but I would need to look further into this as I am not a percussionist myself and am not too familiar with them. This is definitely something to take from this, as I would like to explore percussion further in composition.

In the periods of densest instrumentation, the pitched percussion plays a very prominent role in this movement. There are very angular melodies overlapping in the pitched percussion instruments, where often the leaps are of a 7th or higher. Remarkably, the instruments handling these melodies do not move in parallel motion and seem to have been composed to mirror each other negatively.

Measures 148-151, showing angular and opposite movement.

Within the context of the entire piece, this movement stands out for the textures that are its main feature. The vast array of percussion instruments employed cover all families and includes two pianos, so a wide palette of textures is the result. Although all instruments seem to be played “traditionally” in this movement (as one would imagine them to be played), the compositional style is very modern and any elements of traditional Latin American traditions that form the basis of this composition have been heavily abstracted by the composer.

References: 
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Alberto-Ginastera

Recording: 
Dupuis/Bugalo/Williams/Ensemble S/WDR SO Köln/Asbury, 2013. 'Cantata para América mágica, Op. 27: IV. Interludio Fantastico' Ginastera: Popol vuh - Cantata para América mágica. Munich: NEOS. [online]

Sheet music:
Ginastera, A. 1960. Cantata para América mágica. London: Boosey and Hawkes. [online]

Listening Log №3 – Boris Blacher – Orchestral Variations on a Theme by Paganini, Op. 26: Variation 2 (1947)

This week’s listening log is dedicated to the German composer Boris Blacher (1903-1975) and his Variation 2 from ‘Orchestral Variations on a Theme by Paganini, Op. 26’ composed in 1947. The work consists of 16 variations lasting anywhere from 20 seconds to 2 minutes. Blacher’s variations are built around the theme from the famous 24th Caprice in A-minor by Italian violinist Niccolò Paganini, which has been the subject of multiple notable variations by composers such as Brahms, Liszt, Szymanowski, and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

*Theme from Niccolò Paganini’s 24th Caprice for solo violin – WikimediaCommons*

The theme is introduced by the solo violin at the beginning of the set of variations:

By the time we arrive at Variation 2, the transformed theme has been treated and passed from the clarinet to the solo oboe. The oboe is initially accompanied only by strings playing in pizzicato and then an ascending legato line from a single bassoon, eventually speeding up towards the final measures of the variation leading up to Variation 3.

The oboe melodic line has some chromaticism but it’s mostly tonal, which having heard some of Blacher’s work for piano previously was a bit surprising. There is also some very interesting phrasing on the oboe which is very, well, jazzy. While that word is used so often that it seems to have lost a lot of meaning, the ornaments used by the oboe line as well as the articulations and the off-beat interplay with the bassoon reminded me instantly of music written for the clarinet in the dixieland style. All-in-all this is a big part of the reason why this variation has such a playful feel to it, the way the instruments play off each other’s minimal accompaniment makes it feel almost improvised.

Recording:
G. Herzog, H. Kegel, Dresdner Philharmonie, 1981. 'Blacher: Concertante Musik/Orchestral Variations on a Theme by Paganini/Piano Concerto No.2'. [online] Berlin: Eterna/Edel Germany GmbH.

Listening Log №2 – Carlos Chávez – Toccata for Percussion Instruments (1942)

The focus of my listening log for this week is the second movement (Largo), from Mexican composer Carlos Chávez’ ‘Toccata for Percussion Instruments’, written in 1942. I’m currently working my way through the Exploring Rhythm section of the course and I thought it might be a good idea to explore bits of the repertoire for percussion ensemble. Music composed exclusively for percussion (ensemble or solo) is not something that I’ve listened to a lot of in the past, neither in recordings or in live performance.

Carlos Chávez (1899-1978) was a Mexican composer, conductor, and theorist who championed the blending of traditional Mexican folk songs and rhythms with modern compositional techniques of the 20th century¹. The ‘Toccata’ was composed by Chávez in 1942 at the request of American composer John Cage. The ‘Toccata’ was ultimately premiered 1948 by members of the Symphony Orchestra of Mexico, of which Chávez was the founder and director.

I chose to focus on the second movement of the piece, the Largo movement. Following a violent and fast first movement, the second movement is written in 8/8 time with a tempo marking of ♪ = 58. After the initial tempo indication, the composer indicates an additional four times “Sempre in tempo ♪ = 58“, reminding the players to try and maintain the slow-moving pace of the piece, even with changes in dynamics.

The piece calls for six musicians and the instrumentation for this movement is as follows:

Glockenspiel, Xylophone, Suspended Cymbal, Chimes, Small Gong, and Large Gong.

As can be seen, there are two pitched instruments required for this movement, which are used to provide a subtle melodic element to this movement. The pitched lines stay in a constant pulse on the quaver and don’t stray from this throughout the movement.

The instruments with a longer sustain (small and large gong, and suspended cymbal) often have short articulations notated, meaning that there is often little distinction on the individual attacks on the note. The effect created is often a type of padding effect beneath the pitched percussion.

As with the tempo, Chávez gives incredibly precise indications on the dynamics and expressive qualities he wants for the piece. The musicians are reminded throughout a passage to maintain the dynamics indicated previously even if, given the slow tempo of the piece, these might be expected to fluctuate naturally and gradually. Similarly, Chávez communicates with verbal instructions when and how to choke or let ring notes, using language rather than symbology to get this idea across to the performers.

It’s interesting for me to note how much can be communicated by a percussion ensemble if the directions for the performance and its many nuances are specified to the most minute detail. This involves an understanding of the expressive range of the instrument, which may appear limited, and recategorizing that range into its component parts. This gives a lot of possibility within the physical limits of the percussion ensemble.

References:
1. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Carlos-Chavez#ref215448

Recording:
M-G-M Chamber Orchestra., 2013. 'Toccata for Percussion Instruments: II. Largo' Carlos Chavez: Toccata for Percussion Instruments - Silvestre Revueltas: Ocho por Radio - Heitor Villa-Lobos: Choros No. 7 - Carlos Surinach: Ritmo Jondo'. [online] New York: Soundmark Records.

Franco Giovanetti

Trying to resist the temptation to make this website look like it was made in 1998.