I composed this piece in two spells, first in January-February 2017, then in November-December. The first version was called Turn, named for the wiggling figure that appears in the tuba part in the 4th measure and suffuses the entire work. In the end, I was unsatisfied with that version, and revisited the piece at the end of 2017 in order to compose a new second half.
In its final form, Incantation plays with the idea of magic – or what appears to be magic – and how a ‘sorcerer’ can capitalize on a chance occurrence to cast a spell over the members of a tribe. The piece is in dialogue with Revueltas’s Sensemaya, a natural starting point given that work’s opening solo for the tuba.
Incantation was commissioned and premiered by the BrassTaps Duo, comprised of Evan Zegiel, tuba, and Anthony DeMartinis, percussion, and sponsored by a consortium of tubists in the University of Michigan tuba studio.
This piece was composed for two very good friends, Andy and Mary Moran, whom I first met in the summer of 2005 at the Pierre Monteux School. Andy was attending as a conductor and horn player, Mary as a member of the viola section, which meant I got to sit next to her in orchestra all summer, which I count among the singular delights I’ve been afforded.
Andy is now Professor of Horn and Orchestral Director at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point; Mary is a musician and staff member with the Central Wisconsin Symphony. The premiere was given at the UWSP School of Music, by Mary and Andy and Janna Ernst on the piano. Shortly thereafter, I travelled to Wisconsin to give further performances (as pianist) both there and in Chicago, and we have since performed it at additional concerts as part of the ARTi Gras Festival in Central Wisconsin.
Program Notes
Trio for Viola, Horn, and Piano, op. 32 (2017)
I. Risoluto
II. Lirico
III. Diabolico
IV. Finale: Passacaglia.
This piece was commissioned by Dr. Andres Moran, who was looking for music that he and his wife Mary, a violist, could perform together. Andy and Mary had been good friends of mine since we met at the Pierre Monteux School in the summer of 2005, and I was delighted when they suggested I compose something for them.
Initially, the Morans asked for a single movement work, but when I had finished that piece (now the first movement of the trio) I knew that it was only the beginning. Three movements later, the work had become among my largest, most ambitious compositions in any genre.
The trio follows a traditional four-movement structure and also features what is known as “cyclical form”, in which themes reappear throughout all the movements of a work, binding the overall piece together. For example, the theme that opens the first movement, a winding, soulful song for the horn, comes back at the end of the first movement, at the beginning of the fourth movement, and once again (in disguise) at the end of the fourth movement. Music from the third movement reappears as a variation in the fourth movement, and so on and so forth.
The music of the trio is influenced by many composers, but it is mainly an homage to Johannes Brahms. This is in large part due to the fact that Brahms wrote a trio for a very similar group of instruments, his opus 40 for violin, horn, and piano. My trio nods to Brahms in a number of ways: its predilection for dark colors and moods, its use of the deep piano register, its rigorous rhythmic counterpoint, and in its oblique references to Hungarian (or what once would have been called “Gypsy”) music.
Neither the horn nor the viola often get a star turn in chamber music, and it was a delight to write this trio as a showcase of the intrinsic beauty and capabilities of these instruments. The horn and the viola are usually considered mellow-toned, middle-register instruments, and indeed they can be, but both instruments have a much wider compass of color, expression, and register. As I knew Andy and Mary both to be phenomenal musicians, I put very few limitations on myself writing for them, and the result is a work that demands virtuoso playing, energetic execution, and deep emotional conviction.
I wrote this piece over the course of April and May, 2012.  How it ever dawned on me to compose a set of tone poems in the mould of Holst’s The Planets featuring the deities assigned to the most distant celestial bodies I do not now remember.  What I do remember thinking is “really?” and that the idea grew on me as I mulled it over.
The currently recognized Dwarf Planets are: Haumea, Pluto, Ceres, Eris, and Makemake. There are something like 50 other candidates, which may necessitate a second suite at some point in the future.
Three of these planets are named for European gods and goddesses: Pluto, Ceres, and Eris, but the ones that really got my juices flowing were the Polynesians: Haumea, the Hawaiian goddess of fertility and childbirth, and Makemake, the Rapa Nui (Easter Island) god of the bird-man cult (about which, see more below.)
This piece was composed for the Gargoyle Brass Quintet and was commissioned by the group’s founder, tubist Rodney Holmes. It was toured as part of the quintet’s 2014 season and recorded for the MSR Classics label.
1. Haumea
Haumea is the Hawaiian goddess of fertility and childbirth. Nearly all the Hawaiian gods and goddesses count her as their mother; she is a profoundly incestuous figure, bearing the offspring of her own sons and grandsons. The music is primordial and noble, and the main melody (a sort of chant) continues with variation throughout the piece.
2. Pluto
Both the most famous dwarf planet and the most famous god on the list, Pluto is the Roman ruler of the underworld. The scene depicted in this movement is the abduction of Persephone, Pluto’s young bride. Often depicted as a violent abduction, here the music never rises above piano, portraying the scene as a mysterious disappearance. The opening melody depicts Persephone herself.
3. Ceres
Like many ancient gods and goddesses, Ceres represents several ideas. The two most important are: agriculture and motherly relationships. Hence, the movement opens with a joyous harvest dance, the melody of which is then slowed down and turned into a lullaby in the central section. This is followed by a reprise of the festival dance and a coda.
4. Eris
Eris is the Greek goddess of strife and discord. This movement, a solo for the organ, presents a series of consonant chords that are disturbed by the addition of foreign notes. The dissonances grow greater and greater. An ostinato is played throughout by the middle C on the pedal board.
5. Makemake
Makemake comes from the Rapa Nui people of Easter Island, and is both the creator of humanity and the chief god of the bird-man cult. Each year, the youths of Easter Island were pitted against one another in a dangerous race, swimming out to sea to try to capture the eggs of the Sooty Tern, a bird that nested on rocks several kilometers out at sea. Many of the participants were devoured by sharks, but the winner earned god-like status for the rest of the year. This movement depicts the call to the race, the race itself, and the victory.
[Now.  Something must be said about the poster image below.  The graphic designer (whom I know not) was inspired by my concept to create this insane, Game-of-Thrones-fan-art phantasmagoria, and when I saw it at the premiere I demanded a copy; the poster is now proudly displayed on my studio wall.  To whomever served as the model for Eris, the goddess of chaos, strife, and discord: I salute you, good lady.]
