Concert III Program Notes

Symphony for Winds 

   1. Fast and Intense

Symphony of Winds is my first major work for band and was commissioned by the “President’s Own” United States Marine Band in honor of the Band’s 225th anniversary. It is dedicated to my longtime friend, musical collaborator and visionary leader of the USMB, Colonel Jason Fettig.

Col. Fettig and I had discussed a major work for band for years. Our plans started to coalesce in 2020. Knowing that this work would be written in honor of the Band’s anniversary, I wanted to incorporate a musical idea that was distinctly “American.” Mentioning this to Col. Fettig, he proposed several melodies that could be used. My final choice was “God of our Fathers,” an Episcopalian hymn that, in the late 1800s, became the National Hymn of the US. In addition to its poignant melody, which I found conducive to compositional development, I found an allusion to a “band” in the opening stanza. Though the “band” that the lyricist writes of is not a musical band, I still found the double meaning to be significant:

God of Our Fathers, whose almighty hand, Leads forth in beauty all the starry band.

The first movement opens with a powerful, dramatic brass choir, stating a theme that will return several times in the movement. Energetic and rhythmically shifting patterns immediately break out, dividing the band into competing choirs. Soon, a triumphant, soaring melody appears in the solo trumpet. The syncopated rhythm, brass choir and soaring melody compete for attention until a rousing but unsettled ending.  It has been a distinct honor to work with the USMB. Their virtuosity, dedication and musicianship is inspiring, and they are prepared for, at least, another 225 years of service to this Great Country. (note by Jonathan Leshnoff)  

Study No. 1

Study No. 1 for percussion quartet is my first work for percussion ensemble with the aim of exploring a wide range of timbres within a somewhat confined instrumentation. Each player’s setup has at most four individual instruments using various implements to create a spectrum of sound from rounded and chorale-like to metallic, bright, and playful. There are three main sections, the heart of which is inspired by marching band cadences, bookended by sections that are inspired by the West African “talking drum” in which various types of pitch bending and speech-like rhythmic patterns are explored. (note by Jessie Montgomery)

Dear Camerado

The word 'camerado' was created by the poet Walt Whitman, and referred to someone that he felt a deep bond with. Whitman is known for having written of men in all sorts of manners of adoration, leading many to believe in his homosexual identity. However, regardless of Whitman’s orientation, the word camerado is used nearly exclusively with men in his writings.

With this context, Dear Camerado becomes a superreplication of a lover’s confession, devotion, and uncertainty in a world that does not want to accept their love. The piece begins with a tenor solo representing the voice of the lover. As the piece continues, the full choir joins, shifting through tempi and harmonies before reaching a dramatic climax. The piece ends the same way it began, with the solo tenor line staying unresolved, depicting the lover’s uncertainty for the future. (note by Dan Curtis)

As I lay with my head in your lap camerado,

The confession I made I resume - what I said to you in the open air I resume:

I know I am restless and make others so;

I know my words are weapons full of danger, full of death;

For I confront peace, security, and all the settled laws, to unsettle them;

I am more resolute because all have denied me,

than I could ever have been had all accepted me;

I heed not, and have never heeded either

experience, cautions, majorities, nor ridicule;

And the threat of what is call'd hell is little or nothing to me,

And the lure of what is call'd heaven is little or nothing to me;

Dear camerado! I confess I have urged you onward with me,

And still urge you, without the least idea what is our destination,

Or whether we shall be victorious, or utterly quelled and defeated. (Walt Whitman)

The Field of Dreams

The Field of Dreams stems from a new friendship that began when, as part of the 2022 Contemporary Music Festival, composer Ingrid Stölzel to campus. Working with Ingrid, singing her music, brought with it an instant connection. When an opportunity arose to commission choral music for JMU, working with Ingrid was an immediate choice! During our first meeting to discuss the collaboration, Ingrid surprised me; she had found online a ‘curricular’ poem that my high school music education methods classes had inspired; she said she loved it! As Ingrid shares in her liner notes, “Jo-Anne and I deeply connected through a shared vision about music’s ability to empower and heal. Her poem “The Field of Dreams” so profoundly captures this shared belief. Being able to set these words to music was a wonderful gift.” Ingrid’s juxtaposition of rhythmic complexities and elements of contemporary tone painting (whole tone scales for ‘wholeness’) merge within a harmonic landscape that exquisitely elucidates “the field of dreams.” This commission was made possible by the generous support of the JMU 2021-2022 Shirley Hanson Roberts ’56 and Richard D. Roberts Endowment for Faculty Excellence, and The Madison Singers are delighted to share this beautiful work tonight during the 2024 Contemporary Music Festival. (note by Jo-Anne van der Vat-Chromy)

Dreaming is the longing; love is the spark;

dreams are the field; the field is the key.

Creating is the process, and expression, the sharing.

Flow is the dreaming’s gift.

Change is the constant; wholeness is the alchemy;

oneness, the coherence; beingness, the key.

Experience is the knowing and evolution, the purpose.

Growth is the dreaming’s trek.

Dreaming is the longing; love is the spark;

dreams are the field; the field is the key.

You are the dream. You are the field.

You are The Field of Dreams. (Jo-Anne van der Vat-Chromy)

Duo for Bassoon and Viola

Composed in 2024, the first movement of Duo, called Disappearing Act was commissioned by Kurt Rohde as part of the Community Commissions Initiative in celebration of the 80th Anniversary of the Composers Conference. This was a commission for a one minute work, so after its premiere, I decided to add a second movement which I call Adagio. Both movements play with all the color possibilities of the combination of bassoon and viola. Since they can both be blending instruments, in some parts of this work, I tried to combine the instruments in a way that would obscure their individual sounds and create a new sound. Other sections let each instrument have a solo voice. (note by Margaret Brouwer)

The Ice at the End of the World

The Ice at the End of the World, a concerto for piano and orchestra, was inspired by a trip to the Greenland ice cap I took in the summer of 2019 and is dedicated to three great musicians and friends, Richard Shuster, Michael Gerdes and Foster Beyers. The work is in three movements and is part of a series of pieces related to the unfolding crisis of human-caused climate change. The first three photos below were taken by me on the trip. The others are from wikimedia and are for illustrative purposes.

The summer of 2019 saw the largest amount of melting of the northern ice cap ever recorded in a single year: over 580 billion tons. The warming climate has all but guaranteed that the 2-mile thick sheet of ice covering the island will eventually melt away completely, raising sea levels by as much as 23 feet. Melting has always occurred here in summer, just not this much, and less snowfall in the warmer winters now means not as much of the melted ice is replaced, and so the ice sheet shrinks each year. This piece is an expression of my appreciation at visiting this wonder of the world, in hopes that others may share in it. 

Tonight's performance is of the two-piano version of the piece, so the role of the orchestra will be played by the second piano.

1. The Persistence of Water

“The Persistence of Water” is a reflection on the journey of meltwater from the top of the ice sheet to the sea. It begins high above the coast, on brilliant blue-white ice, as tiny clear streams, which join together on their way seaward, and along the way create the ever-changing features of this incredible landscape. From valleys and mountains, to vast winding canyons, to tunnels, cliffs, deep blue pools, and wide, smooth expanses, the water carves the ice into an infinite variety of shapes. One phenomenon, a moulin, is a vertical shaft disappearing deep into the glacier that can be as small as a few inches in diameter or large enough to swallow a house. There are a few direct references to these frightening abysses that occasionally interrupt the music of this movement. Most of the movement uses flowing scales and other gestures to evoke the movement of water, but staccato chords and other surprises are reminders of the many shapes the eroded ice can take. Then, just before the piano cadenza gives an impression of the calming sea, there is a final plunge of the raging river of meltwater at its mightiest. The movement ends with the flowing scales heard as if in the distance, played by muted strings.

2. Crystalline Aurora

The image that I had in mind while writing this movement was of stepping out onto the glacier in the cold of a winter’s night, surrounded by glistening snow and ice. The aurora borealis appears overhead, stretching impossibly into the stratosphere, a cathedral of light moving and dancing as far as the eye can see. One is overwhelmed by its majesty, and awed by the experience.

3. Waking the Giant

A crack in the ice sheet is heard, and it begins to race across the surface, joining others that cross the expanse of the glacier. Before long, it reaches deep enough to split off an enormous section of the ice, which breaks up as it calves into the sea. This scene is happening more and more often in both Greenland and Antarctica, as the ice caps themselves begin to slide into the ocean, hastening their collapse. The giant is made up of the ice cap and the land underneath, weighed down by eons of compressed snowfall. Eventually, once enough ice has disappeared, that land will spring back up, an awakening unlike anything experienced during humanity’s time on earth. This movement imagines a reaction to witnessing the glacial collapse, but at a human timescale, in its frightening and exhilarating scope. (note by Jason Haney)