PIANO TWO HAND:

Albion's Shore — Paul Cox
(CrossSound commission)

"The Reverend A.B. Scott, in his 1918 book The Pictish Nation, its People and its Church gives an interesting dissertation on the origins of ancient names for Britain and Scotland. According to him and various other authors, the early Basque seafarers from the north of Spain, as well as Greek shipmasters navigated around the British isles and referred to them as Alba or Albion (meaning "white"). Ptolemy spells it as Alouion around 127 AD, and later on Pliny refers to the island as Albion. It was the Greek seafarer Pytheas, who as early as 300 BC refers to the islands Pretanikai Nesoi (meaning "Pretanic Islands"), which Scott claims is based on the native name for Britain Ynis Prydain, which literally means Picts' Island. Another scholar, Kenneth Jackson derives the name "Pritanic" from the Pictish tribe called Pritani, meaning "The People of the Designs."

Across the water, early Irish writers echo the "Albion" name and refer to Scotland as Alba or Alban, although the later Annals of Ulster refer to Scotland as Cruithintuait - the word Cruithni (meaning "the tribe of the designs") being the Irish word for the Picts and tuath for people, land or nation. The Vikings, upon landing in the north of Scotland at the beginning of the 9th century, called the country Pictland. The name Pentland Firth is derived from the Norse name Pettaland Fjord, literally "Pictland Fjord." In Britain, the P-Celtic speaking Britons spelled the Irish name "Cruithni" (Pict) as Pryten; this eventually becomes Briton in the tongue of the Teutonic invaders." (http://members.tripod.com/~Halfmoon/pict3.html)

Cox writes of his piece Albion's Shore:

"The color and the inanimate texture of emotion is what drives Albion's Shore. The work begins with an exploration of darkness and the timbres produced in the piano's low range. Dense and contrapuntal, the opening is a surreal boogie-woogie that descends into a murky underworld of shadows. Musical lines combine and multiply eventually growing into a cataclysmic orgy of sound. The second part is in direct contrast to the first. The simple, chorale-like textures are light and remain in the upper range of the piano leaving. The two parts together create ample space for metaphor and varied interpretation: mystery/truth, vice/virtue, sin/redemption, darkness/light, lies/truth, etc. As we know through experience, the world is rarely so black and white (blanc et noir, was the working title of the piece!). Hints of the brooding opening of the piece return in the coda just as night follows day, and day night. The title is taken from an engraving by Blake and few poetic lines he appended:

Albion rose from where he labour'd at the Mill with Slaves:
Giving himself for the Nations he danc'd the dance of Eternal Death."

Below: William Blake. The Dance of Albion, also called Glad Day, and Albion Rose c. 1794

This plate was once part of the Large Book of Designs which William Blake (1757-1827), English artist, poet & mystic, printed in 1796 for the miniature painter Ozias Humphrey. The design possibly dates back to a pencil drawing of 1780 (Victoria and Albert Museum), the date inscribed on the plate for Albion Rose. Blake executed the same subject in about 1804 as a black and white etching and engraving, to which he added the inscription referred to by Cox above: 'Albion rose from where he labourd at the Mill with Slaves /Giving himself for the Nations he danc'd the dance of Eternal Death'. The inscription recalls lines from Blake's illuminated book, Milton, a Poem, begun in 1803, and from Milton's own work, Samson Agonistes (1671). The figure of Albion, a personification of humanity and of Britain, is freeing himself from the shackles of materialism.

Right: William Blake, "Milton," from "Milton: A Poem." The Illuminated Blake (Anchor Press, 1974), page 232

Milton, inspired, is shown as he "took off the robe of the promise, & ungirded himself from the oath of God," in lines suggesting that the poet is one who casts away all he possesses.

Variations on a Scottish Folk Tune — Allen Larsen

Heather Dawn Janes, piano

PIANO FOUR HAND:

Selections from Jatékók (Games) — György Kurtág

The years 1963-1968 include a period when Kurtág was not composing, but studied afresh the works of Beethoven, Schubert, Debussy and Bartók (among others) alongside working as an accompanist for the Budapest State Concert Agency. A process of simplification and reduction in his own work provided a solution to his writers block and resulted in Games for piano, which he began in 1973. The influence of Milhaud, whose classes Kurtág attended in Paris, emerges for the first time, through Kurtág's acceptance of "all ideas as possible future materials without prejudice, even if they are apparently banal on first sight."

Games was initially commissioned and conceived as pieces for children, which added to their liberating effect on he deeply serious and critical Kurtág. They developed into a unique blend of musical diary, analysis (of the works of others), and also compositional workshop. Many of the ideas generated in Games formed seeds for larger works in the ensuing years 1975-1979.

Amazon reviewer, Thomas May remarks on a recent recording: "A lot of the fun here is in allowing yourself to discover some of the gems you'll very likely never have heard before: [such as] the personality-drenched, enigmatic, Paul Klee-like "Games" of Kurtág (one of [Thomas] Adès's early mentors) . . . " Other listeners comment: " . . . the Kurtag work is a delight and very much to be listened to carefully to catch the playful allusions to Debussy, Tschaikowsky, Janacek, and (catch this) Nancy Sinatra." — Neal Clark Reynolds, Taunton, Massachusetts; and, ?The Kurtag miniatures, from his "Games" are filled with wonderful humor and poignancy that [the performer] Thomas Adès obviously relishes. These "simple," short works are rarely performed on or off record; the current disc may be worth hearing for them alone." —Donald S. Maier, Campbell, CA.

Selections on the SeaBoard Alexander Program:

1 Play with Infinity (version a)
2 Hommage à Verdi
3 Staggering (4 handed)
4 Meandering Tune
5 Twittering
6 Hoquetus (the piece)
7 Silence (4 handed)
8 Furius Chorale
9 Fog-canon
10 Hand in Hand
11 Dot and Spot
12 Prelude and Waltz

Martin Zehn and Tim Smith, piano

PIANO FOUR HAND AND SOPRANO:

"Nocturnal Serenade" from The English Cat — Hanz Werner Henze (Martin Zehn, arr.)

This aria comes from "The English Cat," a comic parable is an adaptation of a work by Balzac: Peines de c'ur d'une chatte anglaise (Heartaches of an English Cat), libretto by Edward Bond. Henze's very varied through-composed score draws on a number of different musical sources for its satire, basing his structure on Beethoven's Diabelli Variations. Amazon reviewer Paul Conway writes of a recent recording, "Though Henze does employ twelve-tone rows in his writing, there are enough genuine melodies here to satisfy the most ardent anti-modernist and I found the piece to be most enjoyable and emotionally involving."

The story of the opera is as follows: Minette the cat, is to marry Lord Puff, President of the Royal Society for the Protection of Rats (RSPR — a society made up entirely of cats), to the disapproval of Arnold, Puff’s nephew, who will lose by the match. The RSPR shows its hypocritical charity by its adoption of the orphan mouse Louise. Tom and his friend Peter seek amorous adventure, and Tom woos Minette, caught out by Arnold. Arnold brings his creditor Jones disguised as a doctor, to forbid Lord Puff's marriage on medical grounds, but the wedding goes ahead, with Tom in the guise of a curate accompanying the Parson, in spite of Arnold's attempts and his revelation of Minette's apparent infidelity. Minette helps her now destitute sister Babette but is still attracted to Tom, leading the RSPR to demand a divorce. In a grossly prejudiced court, Tom is disguised as the Counsel for the Defence, whom he has imprisoned but who now re-appears. Tom is to be punished, but is revealed as the heir to Lord Fairport, an old friend of the Judge, and therefore exonerated. Minette is to be drowned, and Tom now leaves with Babette. In a lawyer's office he is about to make his will, when he is stabbed by the fox, Lucian, dying intestate, his money therefore to go to the RSPR. The ghost of Minette sings together with the dying Tom, leaving Louise to comment on hypocrisy.

Joyce Parry Moore, soprano; Martin Zehn and Heather Janes, piano

SOPRANO SAX DUO, HURDYGURDY, AND SNARE:

Nosey & Gussy LaMore: Characters from StrollerWhite’s Goldrush Days — Stefan Hakenberg
(CrossSound commission)

Music for bagpipes inspired by the writings of R.N.?Bob? DeArmond of Sitka on the life of the "Klondike Newsman" Stroller White.

NOSEY: "It was during his earliest days in the new and mushrooming town of Skagway, and while [Stroller White] was still attempting to ferret out its best sources for news items, that Stroller first ran into the most prolific fountain of news the town possessed. In fact, the Stroller does not hesitate to say that this fellow was the greatest hound for news he has ever come across in an experience that has ranged from the Everglades of Flordia to within the shadow of the Pole. To the news reporters of Skagway, and later of Dawson, the fellow was manna in the wilderness. If there was any news floating around, that fellow corralled it, and if he didn't have any in stock, he manufactured it. He was good for a column every day of the week.

"The fellow, who went by the name of Harry, was not a professional gatherer of news and had never written a line of copy in his life. He was, in fact, a bartender, and from all appearances he was no better than a rough hand at that trade. . . . Presumably Harry also had another name, but the Stroller does not remember what it was, if he ever heard it, and Harry was generally known as "Harry the Nugget" or "Harry at the Merchant's," or whatever the name of the saloon where he was currently employed happened to be. He was also known . . . as "Wipe 'Em Up Harry," but the news reporters and editors knew him among themselves simply as Nosey, a name that was not, under the circumstances, intended to imply criticism but was wholly descriptive." — R.N. DeArmond, Klondike Newsman, pp. 97-8.

GUSSIE LAMORE: "Gussie was one of the earliest arrivals in Dawson after George Carmack stumbled onto the pay. Gussie and one of her several sisters . . . first came north to Juneau in the spring of 1896 with the Richard Maurettus Vaudeville Company. After playing at the Opera House in Juneau for a time, they went over the pass and down the Yukon to the booming camp of Circle City. That is where Gussie was when the Klondike was struck and she lost no time in getting up to the new camp.

"The Klondike, when it was in bloom, had too many of the kind who did not sow and neither did they reap except the earnings of the unfortunate young women who were sometimes known as fairies and sometimes by other terms the Stroller will not repeat here."

The following appeared in The Klondike Nugget, "that joyus paper upon which the Stroller toiled for more than four years, on February 8, 1900, but it had been written the previous summer aboard the steamboat "Colombian."

TO GUSSIE LAMORE by Harry T. Munn

Ah, Gussie, my dear one, my dear one, my passionate, petulant pet!
In the anguish and grief of our parting, I have wished that we never had met.
Yet I would not have missed the sweet pleasure, for the months of my sorrowing pain;
To have kissed thee is joy beyond measure! Ah, when shall I kiss thee again?
With thy passionate farewell there lingers the scent of thy French Hill gold hair.
When the joy and pain of thy presence paraded the nicotine air.
In thy eyes lay the love and the longing of Heaven's unspeakable blue,
And thy lops whispered soft words of warning as thy kisses were thrilling me through.
Yet, Gussie, don't misunderstand me. Don't grieve for your lover who's gone.
The sorrow of parting is over, the joy of our meeting's to come.
Make them order the wine by the dozen, in the boxes or up to your room;
Let the theater resound with their laughter! Sing them, Circle, to their ultimate doom.
Let the miners blow in all their gold dust; make them drink till they're full to the neck.
But, remember, the percentages must cash in with the usual check.
When — ah, curses! — they dare to enfold thee, when your lips with their kisses are wet,
Remember the things I have told thee — take their nuggets, take all you can get.
I am playing the races in 'Frisco, I am bucking the bank every night,
And to New York and Paris I am going, and yet I am still flying light.
So send me some nuggets and some of your jewels; you can get them replaced any time.
Your lovers are asinine donkeys — blow them in, take them all down the line!
Gussie Lamore! Hear them calling the queen of the Klondike in song.
When your nightingale notes have been thralling the crowd who have waited so long,
Perhaps if you offer a bit extra, the manager surely would see
It was worth twenty-five more on pay day, and that you could send on to me.
And some day — dear one, make it quickly —on shores that are kinder than these,
We will roam where the shadows like thickly, 'mid the scented ambrosial trees,
Hand in hand down the glen we shall wander, in the haunt of the dove and the hare;
So be careful, my darling, don't squander — send me every cent you can spare.
Oh, my love! Oh, my golden-haired fairy, in the days which are yet to be born,
We shall roam o'er the earth's fairest places, your cheek laid to mine in the dawn;
Lip to lip, in sweet long-drawn embraces, surely never can we have enough;
So work on, my darling, like blazes, and send me the bulk of your stuff.

Gussie did nothing of the kind, but rather married Bill Gates. In her own words as published by The Klondike Nugget:

"I met Swiftwater Bill in Dawson in the winter of '97. He certainly had the coin then. We were married after a while. He lavished money on me, but I got dead sick of him. He had no sense and so I got to skating around with another guy. There was an egg famine came on in Dawson. Bill was interested in a store that got a consignment of 900 eggs which they were going to sell at a dollar a piece.

I'd already shaken Bill when I went down to the store to buy some egges. Lordy, how I wanted some eggs for breakfast. Well Bill was in the store when I gone in. He sees I want the eggs and while I'm talking with the clerk, see, he buys up the whole consignment at $1 apiece. Then he says to me, 'Now. my dear, if you want eggs for breakfast, come home where you belong."

"Well, hay, I was just dying for them eggs and I came to my milk like a lady. I gone home with Bill.

"After that we lives in Dawson for awhile and then I comes out to the states with him . . . .

"In 'Frisco I introduced Bill to my family. Well, say, would you believe it, my sister Grace cops him out, steals him from me cold. I gets a divorce with a few alimonies. . . [and] Grace marries him. Well, say, she lives with him a couple of weeks and quits him. She couldn't stand him at all. . . . . Bill goes to her room while she's away, wraps her silverware and other valuables up in a sheet and carries them downtown on his back. . . . [T]hen he steps in and takes up with my sister Nell. Nell only lived with him a week. She says she has a divorce from him, but I don't believe it. . . . I didn't hear much of Bill until about a year ago when I read in the paper that he'd run away from Tacoma with his niece. Wouldn't that kill you?

"Since then I haven't heard much of Bill. I'd bet money he's broke. I wouldn't be his niece for no money. Since I quit him I've been working in the show shops again and I'd rather do that than be the wife of any old Klondike millionaire. My other sister — the one I haven't mentioned yet — is married to a Klondiker and he took her to Europe last summer. She says he treats her fine but I'm scared o' the breed. Say, I almost forgot to tell you that Bill tried to cop out the fourth sister o' mine after Nellie shook him, but he couldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. That's where she's wiser than the rest of us." — R.N. DeArmond, Klondike Newsman, pp. 124-130.

For more on Nosey, Gussie, and the Stroller, see: R.N. DeArmond. 1989. 'Stroller White' — Klondike Newsman. Skagway: Lynn Canal Publishing.

Todd Hunt & Jeremy Brandt-Young, saxophones, Shoshannah Selgiman, hurdygurdy, David Sheakley, snare

PIANO SIX HAND:

Six Processions for Six Hands — Kiyoshi Furukawa
(CrossSound commission)

"When I started to plan this composition for three musicians, I was principally interested in the idea that three musicians can share, or play on, one instrument at the same time. I thought that it would be a rather strenuous activity, but that it could produce an extremely attractive music, which would only be possible in this form. With this in mind, I arrived at the title "Six Processions" because the three musicians are compelled to play and move within a very restricted space and maintain a common goal. The composition consists of six short pieces, which relate to the concept of procession. A procession is usually a long line of people moving toward some goal. It can be an expression of cultural identity, or ideological unity, or a shared idea, etc. These six pieces show six processions in different forms, different customs and different awarenesses of time, from an imaginary culture." — Kiyoshi Furukawa

Tim Smith, Martin Zehn, & Heather Dawn Janes, piano

PIANO SIX HAND AND SOPRANO:

Iphigenia terrea: Monodrama for soprano and three pianists —Alexandros Kalogeras (CrossSound commission)

Theatrical Director — David Hunsaker

Musical Director — Stefan Hakenberg

Alex Kalogeras, as is charactersitic, has written a piece using the ritualistic and dramatic character of ancient Greek theater as a point of departure. The piece is related to Euripides' Iphigenia at Aulis:

"Iphigenia terrea is based on Euripides’ play Iphigenia at Aulis written at the end of his life and produced for the first time by his son after his death in 406 B.C. Iphigenia terrea does not set Iphigenia in Aulis to music. In Iphigenia terrea there is no plot. It is assumed that we are aware of the Euripides’ play. Time does not evolve, but rather, like in a photograph, is condensed at the moment when Iphigenia finds out her father’s true plans to sacrifice her and her efforts to persuade him to spare her life.

"This first reaction of Iphigenia terrea (The Earthly or Terrestrial Iphigenia), is in sharp contrast with her later self when she accepts her sacrifice and her ascent to the Gods (The Heavenly or Celestial Iphigenia).

"My purpose is not to set text to music. Only seven of the original lines (delivered by Iphigenia, Agamemnon, and an old man) are used only to reinforce the atmosphere of the work. It is very tempting to see the soprano on stage as Iphigenia. Nevertheless she is not. She is Iphigenia, Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, all in one person suffering for their destiny, trying to avert the inevitable. The soprano on stage, assisted by the pianists/vocalists, is rather the incarnation of a psychological stage, than a person per se.

"In my work the soprano sings the text in ancient Greek and the pianists deliver the same text in English in various ways: reading very fast, shouting, singing, speaking, extending in this way the voice of the singer. Further, the soprano sings sections without any text, while the pianists – in a practice common to the Eastern Orthodox Byzantine chant - join in singing drones.

"The narrated parts were added only when the work was almost finished, in order to provide a background of the story during the performance.

"Of the three pianists, the one on the treble side of the keyboard plays on the keys at all times. The pianist on the lower part of the keyboard plays mostly stopped notes, which require playing the key on the keyboard while at the same time touching the string inside the piano. The third pianist plays exclusively on the strings, using in addition to the fingers, two marimba mallets. As it has been said, all participate vocally in the piece.

"Addressing the musicians in this way bridges the cultural distance of 2,400 years that separate the original play with all the contemporary piano represents.

Translation of text sung by the soprano

"For the translation into English of Euripides’ original text, two editions have been used:
1/ Harvard University Press: edited and translated by David Kovacs
2/ Oxford University Press: translated by James Morwood.

Ah, ah!
Zeus’s sunlight
Farewell, dear light.

Do not kill me. It is sweet to see the light of day.

Your daughter - - the father who begot her is going to kill her...

O mistress fate, my fortune, and my evil genius!

A curse on wars and Menelaus’ wrongs!

This light is the sweetest thing to look on

I was out of my senses!
I am falling into madness!

Do not kill me before my time

The story

"Paris was one of the sons of Priam, the king of Troy. Menelaus, the king of Sparta (one of the major Greek city-states), visited Troy and invited Paris to a return visit to Sparta. When Paris did so, he mets Helen, Menelaus’ wife. Helen was the most beautiful of all women, even more beautiful than Aphrodite, the goddess of love. He immediately fell in love with her, and with Aphrodite’s assistance, Helen fell in love with him as well. Both went to Troy.

"When Menelaus found out, he created a coalition of all Greeks to conquer and destroy Troy, and bring Helen back to Sparta. The war leader appointed was Menelaus’ brother, Agamemnon, who was the King of Argos, another major Greek city-state.

"At the Greek army muster point with 1,000 ships in the port of Aulis, there was great delay in departing for Troy due to unfavorable winds. They decided to ask the seer Calchas what should be done. Calchas prophesized that unless Agamemnon sacrifice his own daughter Iphigenia to Artemis, the local goddess, there would be no favorable wind.

"Agamemnon, torn apart, wrote for his wife to bring Iphigenia to Aulis so she can marry Achilles, a half god and the most glorious hero of all the Achaeans.

"Euripides’ Iphigenia in Aulis starts at this point, when Agamemnon, tormented by his decision, writes another letter to his wife Clytemnestra postponing the wedding.

"Menelaus however destroyed the second letter and finally Clytemnestra arrives in Aulis with Iphigenia. Halfway through the play, Clytemnestra discovers Agamemnon’s plans, and desperately attempts to change Agamemnon’s mind - to no avail. Three quarters through the play Iphigenia takes the leading role. First, she appeals to her father’s parental instincts hoping to make him change his mind. Agamemnon leaves the stage and Iphigenia is left with her mother, lamenting her destiny. Achilles, who had vowed to help Clytemnestra, appears. He brings the news that he has been left totally alone since even his own soldiers are against him trying to save Iphigenia. The army is anxious to depart for Troy. He promises to fight alone against all if they come to take Iphigenia away.

"At this point Iphigenia’s feelings radically change. She says that she would be very honored to be sacrificed and serve Greece in this way. She feels that since so many young soldiers are willing to die for their country, so should she. Next she goes willingly to her sacrifice.

"At the end of the play we hear a messenger describing the sacrifice scene. Joyously he announces that Iphigenia was not killed. At the last moment Artemis replaced Iphigenia with a deer and she took Iphigenia up to the Gods.

"It is easy to parallel Iphigenia’s story with that of Abraham and Isaac. It also reminds me of Jesus Christ’s prayer in Gethsemane asking his father to spare him the passion, in the end accepting his father’s will." — Alexandros Kalogeras

Joyce Parry Moore, soprano; Shshannah Seligman, narrator; Tim Smith, Heather Dawn Janes, & Martin Zehn, piano; Todd Hund, Jeremy Brandt-Young, & Kiyoshi Furukawa, chorus; Stage direction by Dave Hunsaker; Music direction by Stefan Hakenberg