Four Seascapes

Herman Melville, Thornton Wilder, Henry James, Mark Twain (E)

As a graduate student at Eastman I paid countless visits to the Sibley Library, not only for scores or research purposes but just as often for books relating to another passion of mine: English literature. So it seemed appropriate in this work honoring the Library's 100th anniversary that its music be indebted to some of the writers I was avidly enjoying during those student years. And since bodies of water hold a fascination for me (they have worked their way into a surprising number of my compositions), I selected from four of my favorite authors passages dealing with ocean, sea, lake and river, ending up with a work somewhat like Vaughn-Williams' Sea Symphony only on a much more modest scale.

Opening movement: The Pacific. Hermann Melville has recourse to a dozen different verbs in these brief paragraphs to expound on the ocean's eternal restlessness, there being, as he says, a "sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath." The music seeks to evoke an aural equivalent to that description by having a slow-moving and disjunct motion in the lowest instruments of the orchestra (a twelve-note series) beneath a more placid and tonal surface motion in the chorus and higher instruments. In addition, there is a very liberal use of those wedge-shaped symbols musicians call 'hairpins' (signs indicating crescendo and decrescendo).

Slow movement: The Mediterranean. Thornton Wilder's poetic meditation on this ancient sea quietly culminates at its close with an allusion to the birth of Christ. The music is in Rondeau form, the instrumental refrain itself being contiguous sections of the Christmas plainchant, "Puer natus est" (A Boy is Born). while narrative choral sections serve as the contrasting interludes. Only at the movement's conclusion--with the words "And the land that was soon to be called Holy"--does the chorus, in unison, sing music of the chant itself.

Scherzo movement: Lake Como. Henry James, in a rare playful mood, compares the fulsome prettiness of Lake Como to the overwrought scenery of an opera stage set. The 3/4 allegro commonly used in scherzo movements is here replaced by a quick rhythmic accompaniment pattern frequently encountered in 19th-century opera. The 'palace of the nefarious baryton' certainly suggests Don Giovanni's residence (and the music hints briefly at La ci darem la mano), while 'the scarlet-sashed barcaiuoli' may refer to the Venetian scene in Offenbach's "The Tales of Hoffmann" (and I could not resist allowing the assembled boatmen to present--in their own 'melodious Italian voices'--a rather similar barcarolle).

Finale movement: The Mississippi. Mark Twain paints this highly evocative and unforgettable picture of a small Southern town on the banks of the Mississippi with the simplest of strokes. The description is so easy-going and American I felt I could almost hear some lazy harmonica music playing in the background. I did not, however, elect to use that instrument as a member of the orchestra. Instead, I chose to employ the two simple chords that are its idiomatic hallmark: blow--c, e, g; draw--b, d, f, a. Tonic triad and leading tone seventh. The movement is built almost exclusively on this pair of chords or on slight variations of them.