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REALITY IS AN ACTIVITY OF THE MOST AUGUST IMAGINATION (1976) Op.8


Opus number: 8

Title: Reality Is An Activity of the Most August Imagination (text by Wallace Stevens)

Instrumentation: mezzo soprano and piano

Date written: 1977, Juilliard School, New York

Length: five minutes

Premiere performance: Judith Malafronte, soprano, Larry Bell, pianist, April 17, 1980, Paul Hall, The Juilliard School

Program notes:  “Reality is an Activity of the Most August Imagination” for soprano and piano was written in 1977 and originally was intended to be half of a song cycle based on two poems of Wallace Stevens. The music to the other song, “The Poems of Our Climate” has been written and revised many times, but, to my mind, it is incomplete.

The form of the music is an athematic arch suggested by the form as well as the content of the poem. I think the poem is about natural light and its relationship to human feeling. In simple terms, I wanted the music to act as fireworks going up, reaching a brilliant apogee, and then dissolving into darkness. This, like many of Stevens’s poems, seems to begin in the real and end in the imagination and I tried to make the music correspond on every level to the demands of the poetry. The work concludes with an almost unrecognizable restatement of the first vocal phrase.

Text:

Last Friday, in the big light of last Friday night,
We drove home from Cornwall to Hartford, late.
It was not a night blown at a glassworks in Vienna
Or Venice, motionless, gathering time and dust.
There was a crush of strength in a grinding going round,
Under the front of the westward evening star,
The vigor of glory, a glittering in the veins,
As things emerged and moved and were dissolved,
Either in distance, change or nothingness,
The visible transformations of summer night,
An argentine abstraction approaching form
And suddenly denying itself away.
There was an insolid billowing of the solid.
Night’s moonlight lake was neither water nor air

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DOMINATION OF BLACK (1971) Op.2

Opus number: 2

Title: Domination of Black (text by Wallace Stevens)

Instrumentation: five solo voices SSATB

Date written: 1971, East Carolina University, Greenville, North Carolina

Length: 3 minutes

Premiere performance: May 17, 1980, Paul Hall, Juilliard School, Daureen Podenski, soprano I, Lynn Yakes, soprano II, Anna Sofus, alto, Jeffrey Thomas, tenor, Greer Grimsley, bass, and George Tsontakis, conductor;

Important subsequent performances: Modus Novus, San Francisco, February 18, 1996, St. Gregory’s Church; and December 18, 1995, San Francisco; April 11, 1984 (?), The Boston Conservatory, Rebecca Gorlin, Margarete Faddick, sopranos 1 + 2, Eriko Terada (3), Rosemary Dowd +  Amy Hertel, altos, James Bonarrigo and Joseph Scott, tenors, William DeVane + Bert Yocum, basses, Larry Bell, conducting.

Recording: tape of Boston Conservatory performance in library

Program notes: “Domination of Black” was written in 1971 and like my “Novelette” remained unperformed until 1980. In this concise canonic madrigal I tried to maintain Wallace Stevens’s scansion as well as to project the representational content of the poem, which is, I think, the ominous approach of death. The first performance was given at Juilliard’s Paul Hall in April 1980.

See “A Cry Against the Twilight,” op. 42.

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DAVID AND OLD IRONSIDES (2007) Op. 89

Opus number: op. 89

Title: David and Old Ironsides

Text: Connie Leeds

Text: click here 

This is the unfinished story of David DeBias, one of the youngest sailors to serve on USS Constitution, the glorious ship known as Old Ironsides.

David was born in 1806 to a free black family on the North Slope of Boston’s Beacon Hill. Many blacks were slaves, even in the North. But on the North Slope of Beacon Hill they were free. Still, it was hard to find work.  America had been at war with the British since 1812. Jobs were scarce, and few would hire a Black man.

Some worked at the harbor’s docks.

Some went to sea.

“I remember one morning. Papa found work and was gone before the sun.

“Momma asked me to take him his dinner. I was only eight but still the fastest runner on Belknap Street.

“I ran down the hill, along the Charles River to the harbor.

“The docks were piled with colorful silks and barrels of sweet-smelling molasses. Chickens clucked. I saw sailors with parrots feathered in red and blue and green.

“Papa was unloading grain sacks as big as me.

“He talked of the ships and the sailors. How brave they were because sometimes the British captured American ships, stealing the cargo and forcing our sailors to work in their navy. But being a sailor was a good steady job. Because of the war, the Navy needed men, even Black men.

“We talked about my favorite ship. Everyone’s favorite: USS Constitution. After she returned victorious against two British frigates last year Papa took me to Long Wharf for the celebration–parades and bands and flags everywhere.

“Everyone calls her Old Ironsides. Her wooden hull is so strong, cannon balls bounce off. Like she was made of iron.

“’Would you like to sail on the best ship of all?’ Papa asked. “He signed me up on Constitution.

“I was young but fast and strong. I’d sleep and eat and work on the ship. They would pay me six dollars a month, a mighty good wage.

“I’ll be a Boy on Old Ironsides. Boy is my rank. No matter your age, Boy is where you start on a ship. A Boy keeps the ship scrubbed and polished and painted.

“And when battles are fought, it’s the Boys who keep the guns in powder.”

[whistle] With a sad farewell to his parents, David boarded Constitution. A shrill whistle signaled the crew to their jobs, and Old Ironsides set sail.

By first day’s end, a star-filled sky met the sea, and David breathed the cold salty air. He was too tired to be anything but brave.

The ship, commanded by Captain Charles Stewart, headed east through calm seas and rough.

When gales hit, Constitution tossed and bobbed. Water sloshed over her decks, soaking everyone and everything.

“We shipped out in December 1814. Crossed the wide Atlantic. I might have been one of the youngest on board, but we all felt small on the great big sea.

“Days and days, we had no ships to take.

“Only Lieutenant Ballard’s smart little dog kept us smiling. “Everyone said the sole reason that dog didn’t talk was ‘cause if he did, they’d have put him to work.

“One morning Lieutenant’s dog starts barking wildly.

“There in the distance was a great big ship!

“Because of that little dog, we captured Susannah, filled with wonders from Argentina.

“Best of all were two baby jaguars we took on board.

“Only days later, I fought in my first battle. It was like this. One evening in February, off the West African coast, the watch called out. Two British ships were gliding across the horizon.

[whistle] “A whistle signaled silence.

“My heart beat so hard I thought they would tell me to keep quiet.

“I was ready to run for powder.

“Old Ironsides was cutting fast and quietly through the water. Then the order was given. ‘Hoist the Colors!’

“Then, ‘Fire!’

“Our guns let loose a broadside. Noise so loud I thought my head would crack open. I kept running with the sacks of powder, scrambling from the hatch to the guns.

“Old Ironsides was hit! Wood splinters flew. We went flying, sliding into the guns, into each other. Back on our feet, we loaded and fired again.

“Both sides were firing at once. A British ship on each side of us.

“But Constitution was the strongest ship ever built. Nothing hurt us bad. We all cheered as H.M.S. Cyane on our starboard surrendered.

“Captain Stewart turned our guns on H.M.S. Levant, and she went on the run. With our bow chaser guns blasting, we chased her. Smoke filled the sky.

“I was near deaf from the noise of the guns. But not too deaf to hear another cheer. Levant surrendered. Two ships in one night!

“Captain Stewart was the best sailor in the Navy. In any navy.

“In the morning they sent me on Levant. She was our ship now. Her deck was bloody with the wounded and dead, her sails shredded and her rigging destroyed. After patching her and fixing the wounded, we sailed for Porto Praya in the Cape Verde Islands. I was sure the fighting was over.

“I was wrong.

“We met three British ships: Leader, Newcastle, and Acasta. Captain Stewart was outmatched so he ran with Cyane and left us to fight, but we were lost. The British took back Levant.

“Now I was a prisoner of war.

“They shipped us without enough water or food to the Island of Barbados. Luckily, the war soon ended. I sailed to Baltimore. There everyone was singing ‘The Star Spangled Banner,’ a marvelous song about a nearby battle. I boarded Constitution, bound for Boston. I was glad to be home. America won the war, and I was part of the winning. Me, David DeBias, a Boy aboard USS Constitution.”

At sixteen David DeBias again enlisted as a Boy on Old Ironsides.

It was 1821 and peacetime as the ship sailed to the Mediterranean.

On the Fourth of July the city of Genoa, Italy, welcomed Constitution. We cruised the Mediterranean from the cliffs of Gibraltar to the Straights of Messina.

“I saw the ruins of ancient Rome in Turkey and the casbahs of Algeria. I visited an Arabic fortress and the grand palaces of Malta. I have been to Syracuse in Sicily and to Tunis and Tripoli.

“I touched the earth of Africa that my soul knew was home.

“But my heart knew I was American.

“I was as good as most and better than many, but without a war, the Navy needed fewer men.

“When we returned to Boston, I collected my pay from the purser and returned to the North Slope. I had done well for my family and for myself.

“I loved Old Ironsides.

“Papa was right. On a ship, if you do your job well, you are a man. No one troubles you. I am sixteen years old. I have crossed the ocean again and again. I have served my country in war and been part of her victory.

“I am a sailor. I am an American.”

After those two voyages on USS Constitution, David never again sailed on a Navy vessel. He sailed on private merchant ships bringing cargos across the seas and along the great rivers. It was hard time to be a Black man, and it was dangerous for a free Black man to travel in the South.

In 1838 David DeBias of Boston, Massachusetts, was captured as a slave in the state of Mississippi.

His ship docked in Mobile, Alabama. Because he was Black, the law said he was a slave unless he could prove he was free.

Judge Thomas Falconer of Winchester, Mississippi, wrote the Navy for proof that David DeBias was a freeman. Falconer believed David’s story. Unless the Navy sent proof, David was doomed to be a slave in the harsh Mississippi cotton fields.

Did David DeBias end his days in freedom or slavery? The records disappeared in a fire. David’s fate is a mystery.

The story of David DeBias is remarkable, but unfinished. We celebrate him, a young sailor on the most famous ship in America. He served in a great victory, one of the finest moments in the nation’s naval history.

“America won the war, and I was part of the winning. Me, David DeBias, a Boy aboard Old Ironsides.”

Instrumentation: narrator and orchestra  1-1-1-1, 2-1-1-0, Perc., Strings

Commissioned: Commissioned by the Boston Landmarks Orchestra

Dedication:  Fay Chandler

Date written: 2007

Length: 25 minutes

Premiere performance: June 2007, Charles Ansbacher, conductor, Landmarks Orchestra, Taj Hotel.

Subsequent performances: July 2007, Hatch Shell on Esplanade, Charles Ansbacher, conductor, Landmarks Orchestra. four performances in local Boston parks in July 2007

Program Notes: David and Old Ironsides, Op. 89, was commissioned and dedicated to Fay Chandler and the Landmarks Orchestra. The work was designed around a text written by Constance Leeds that tells the story of a young black man’s journey through the war of 1812 (between Britain and the United States). This work for narrator and orchestra was performed many times during the summer of 2007, including the Hatch Shell on the Esplanade and at the historic site of Old Ironsides in Charlestown, MA.

Recording: Boston Landmarks Orchestra, Charles Ansbacher, conductor; Robert Honeysucker, narrator. Landmarks Recordings, CD

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CAPRICE No. 7, Echo and Narcissus (2005) Op. 75

Opus number: op. 75

Title: Caprice No. 7, Echo and Narcissus

Instrumentation: vibraphone/narrator

Text: Ovid

Commission: Nick Tolle

Dedication: Nick Tolle

Date written: June 2005

Length: eight minutes

Premiere performance: January 20, 2008, Larry Bell, narrator, Nick Tolle, vibraphone. NEC’s Williams Hall. (Boston premiere)

Subsequent performances: Nick Tolle, Amsterdam

Program Notes: Caprice No. 7, Echo and Narcissus, Op. 75, is written for solo vibraphone and narrator. The narrator part was originally designed to be spoken by the vibraphonist, but could effectively be performed by a separate speaker. The work was written for Nick Tolle in 2006 and is a continuation of my series of pieces for solo instrument titled Caprice. Caprice No. 7 was premiered in Amsterdam in the spring of 2007 by Nick Tolle and later performed in January of 2008 with the composer as narrator. The text was taken from Ovid and is the familiar story from Greek mythology of the transformation of Narcissus into a constellation.

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HANSEL AND GRETEL, a Fable for Narrator and Orchestra (2001) Op.59

Opus number: 59

Title: Hansel and Gretel

Instrumentation:  narrator and orchestra: 2-2-2-2, 4-2-3-1, 4 perc, hp, cel. strings

Date written: August 2001

Length:  ca. 30 minutes

Performances: November 3, 2002, NEC’s Youth Philharmonic Orchestra, Benjamin Zander, conductor, Ray Brown, narrator, Jordan Hall (premiere); April 19, 2003, NEC’s Youth Philharmonic Orchestra, Benjamin Zander, conductor, Ray Brown, narrator, Boston Symphony Hall; June 19–29, NEC’s Youth Philharmonic Orchestra, Benjamin Zander, conductor, Mexico City and Panama.

Program notes: Hansel and Gretel, a Fable for Narrator and Orchestra, op. 59, is based on the classic Grimm fairy tale. Unlike the familiar Humperdinck opera libretto, the children in the original fable do not lose their way in the forest, but, much more scarily, are deliberately abandoned by their starving stepmother and father. Both children–and especially Gretel–triumph as the heroes of their perilous adventure.

This piece was commissioned and designed to introduce the instruments of the orchestra to children under the age of twelve. As the narrator tells us, various instruments represent the characters in the story. The French horns play the father’s music, the step-mother is played on a muted trumpet, Gretel is represented by the violin and Hansel by the cello. Three friendly animals are heard in the woodwinds: with a tip of the hat to Prokofieff’s Peter and the Wolf, their cat is played by the clarinet, the bird is played by a flute, and the duck by the oboe. The wicked witch is heard on the xylophone.

In addition certain elements of the story are painted by music. For example, the jewels the children find shine in the orchestra.  The evil step-mother and the witch share the interval of a tritone, and both have similar motives drawn from a half diminished seventh chord. The father’s music centers around c minor, and the music for Hansel and Gretel is closely related to G major.

The challenge of writing a large work for narrator was lightened by the fact that I had previously set two narrator works: Edgar Allan Poe’s The Black Cat for narrator, cello and piano (recorded on CD by Robert J. Lurtsema, cellist Eric Bartlett, and myself as pianist), and Lewis Thomas’s Late Night Thoughts on Listening to Mahler’s Ninth Symphony for narrator, violin and piano.

Hansel and Gretel, finished in August in 2001, was commissioned by New England Conservatory Preparatory School, Mark Churchill, Dean. It was written with the instrumentation of the Youth Philharmonic Orchestra and with its conductor, Benjamin Zander, in mind.

 

Text: Grimm’s Fairy Tales, arranged by Andrea Olmstead

[Introduction–optional]

Many of you know the Grimm fairy tale, Hansel and Gretel. Today [tonight] we will hear this story with the help of our orchestra. Its instruments will represent the characters, as well as the action.

First we meet their good-hearted father: his music is played on the French horn. [musical example]

Next comes their evil step-mother, played on a trumpet that is muted. [musical example]

Gretel’s sad lament is represented by the violin [musical example] and Hansel by the happy-go-lucky cello [musical example].

Hansel and Gretel meet three animals: their cat is played by the clarinet [musical example]; the bird by a flute [musical example]; and finally a duck, played by the oboe [musical example].

Last and most important is the wicked witch, played by the xylophone [musical example]

Listen for these instruments as we travel with Hansel and Gretel into a deep and scary forest.

[overture]

[*] By a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his two children, Hansel and Gretel. He had little to eat, and when a great famine came, he could no longer get bread. He groaned and said to his wife, “How are we to feed our poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?” [*] “I’ll tell you how,” answered the woman, “Early tomorrow morning we will take the children into the forest to where it is the thickest. There we will light a fire, and give each one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work and leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid of them.” “No, wife,” said the man, “I will not do that. How can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest?” “O you fool,” said she, “then we must all four die of hunger,” and she left him no peace until he consented. “But I feel very sorry for the poor children,” said the man. [*]

The two children heard what their step-mother had said. Gretel wept bitter tears, and said, “Now all is over with us.” Hansel said, “Do not distress yourself, Gretel, I will find a way to help us.” [*]

Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children from their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. “Hansel, why do you stop and look round?” said the father, “go on.” “I am looking back at my little white cat which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to me,” answered Hansel. “Fool,” said the woman, “That is not your little cat, that is the morning sun shining on the chimney.” [*] Hansel, little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path. [*] The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was made, and the step-mother said, “We are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away.” [*] When it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came to take the poor children back. When they awoke it was dark, and Hansel comforted his little sister saying, “Just wait until the moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread I have strewn about. They will show us our way home.” [*] When the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands of birds that fly about in the woods had picked them all up. [*] They walked the whole night and all the next day too, but they did not get out of the forest, and were very hungry. When their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and fell asleep. [*]

It was now three mornings since they had left their father’s house. They began to walk again, and at mid-day they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to it. [*] And when its song was over, it spread its wings and flew away, and they followed it until they reached a little house, on the roof of which it alighted. They saw that the little house was built of gingerbread and covered with cakes, and that the windows were of clear sugar. [*] Hansel reached up and broke off a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel leant against the window and nibbled at the panes. [*] Then a soft voice cried from the parlor-

“nibble, nibble, gnaw

who is nibbling at my little house?”

The children answered –

“the wind, the wind,

the heaven-born wind,”

and went on eating. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman as old as the hills came creeping out. Hansel and Gretel were so terribly frightened they let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman nodded her head, and said, “Oh, you dear children, do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to you.” She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little house. Good food was set before them, milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Gretel lay down in them, and thought they were in heaven. [*]

The old woman had only pretended to be so kind. She was in reality a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only build the little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child fell into her power, she killed it, cooked, and ate it. [*]

She seized Hansel with her shriveled hand, carried him into a little stable, and locked him behind a grated door. Then she went to Gretel, and cried, “Get up, lazy thing, fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother. He is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him.” Gretel began to weep bitterly, but she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded. [*]

The witch crept to the little stable, and cried, “Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may feel if you will soon be fat.” Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to her. The old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and thought it was Hansel’s finger; she was astonished that there was no way of fattening him. After four weeks, she would not wait any longer. “Let Hansel be fat or lean, tomorrow I will kill him, and cook him.” Ah, how the poor little sister did lament. [*]

Early the next morning, the old woman said, “We will bake first. I have already kneaded the dough.” She pushed poor Gretel to the oven, from which flames were darting. “Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if the oven is properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.” Once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. [*] But Gretel saw what she had in mind. “I do not know how to get in?” “Silly goose,” said the old woman, “the door is big enough. Just look, I can get in myself,” and she  thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push that drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the bolt. [*]  Oh. Then the godless witch began to howl quite horribly, and she was miserably burnt to death. Gretel ran like lightening to Hansel, opened his little stable, and cried, “Hansel, we are saved. The old witch is dead.” Then Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other. They looked in the witch’s house, and in every corner stood chests full of pearls and jewels. Hansel thrust into his pockets whatever he could, and Gretel said, “I, too, will take something home with me,” and filled her pinafore full. “But now,” said Hansel, “we must get out of the witch’s forest.” [*]

When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great stretch of water. “We cannot cross,” said Hansel, “I see no foot-plank, and no bridge.” Gretel answered, “but a white duck is swimming there.” Then she cried –

“Little duck, little duck, do you see,

Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee.

There’s no plank, or bridge in sight,

take us across on your back so white.”

The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back, and told his sister to sit by him. “No,” replied Gretel, “that will be too heavy for the little duck. She shall take us across, one at a time.” The good little duck did so. When they were safely across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from afar their father’s house. [*] Then they began to run, rushed into the parlor, and threw themselves round their father’s neck. The man had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the forest. The step-mother, however, was dead. Hansel and Gretel emptied their pockets until the pearls and precious stones ran about the room. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together in perfect happiness. [*]

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LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS ON LISTENING TO MAHLER’S NINTH SYMPHONY (1991) Op.35


Opus number: 35

Title: Late Night Thoughts on Listening to Mahler’s Ninth Symphony

Instrumentation: violinist/narrator and piano

Date written: 1991, Boston

Length: seventeen minutes

Commissioner and dedicatee: Joanna Jenner

Premiere performance: Joanna Jenner, violinist/narrator, Larry Bell, pianist, Bennington College Chamber Music Conference and Composers’ Forum of the East, August 1, 1992, Bennington, Vermont

Important subsequent performances: Joanna Jenner, violinist/narrator, Larry Bell, pianist, Boston Conservatory, October 20,1992; Greenwich House in New York, October 22, 1992.

Recordings: Joanna Jenner, violinist/narrator, Larry Bell, pianist, recording  for WGBH-FM Boston; tape at Boston Conservatory; CD recording in progress

Program notes:  Late Night Thoughts on Listening to Mahler’s Ninth Symphony is based on an essay of the same title by Lewis Thomas. The work was commissioned by and is dedicated to the violinist Joanna Jenner, who requested an unusual composition in which the violinist would also speak as a narrator. The work can also be performed with a separate narrator. The first-person text I selected deals with the long and fearful shadow cast by the threat of nuclear annihilation, a prospect of death of not only the earth and all of mankind but also a “second death” of all that has ever been known and experienced. The essay makes frequent reference to music and I have incorporated several quotations. The work is based on the opening measures of the last movement of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony: These measures act as the basis for continuous variations whose effect is unrelieved conflict.

Reviews: “Composer-pianist Larry Bell has been on the faculty of the Boston Conservatory since 1980; his annual new-music recital has been a tradition there for nearly a decade, and last year he was chosen to write a piano quartet to commemorate the 125th anniversary of the Conservatory. Outside the school, a number of leading artists and institutions have performed his music over the years, notably the Juilliard Quartet and the Seattle Symphony.

“Recently Bell seems to be trying to up the ante a little. Tuesday evening three prominent New York free-lance players, all of them members of the popular conductorless Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, and pianist Carmen Rodriguez-Peralta joined him for an all-Bell program at the Conservatory, which is being repeated in New York tonight.

“There was a good crowd in Seully Hall, which was a good thing; if that resonant space is not full, you emerge, tingling, at concert’s close, knowing how the clapper in the bell must feel at 11 o-clock of a sunday morning.

“There were four works on the program, the most challenging of which was the first, which dates back to 1983. ‘The Fantasia on an Imaginary Hymn’ for viola and cello was commissioned by Joel Kronsick of the Juilliard Quartet. Less a dialogue than two simultaneous, mediated monologues, the piece mediates [sic] on a hymn-like tune that is never fully stated, but it is clearly a hymn that has left the bound covers of a book and entered the folk-culture; the twists, turns and swings of its hamonies and rhythms are subjects of the simultaneous twofold meditation. The performance by violist Sarah Clarke and cellist Eric Bartlett was excellent, and persuasive.

“This was followed by something odd, ‘Late Night Thoughts on Listening to Mahler’s Ninth Symphony,’ for violin and piano; the violinist doubles as a narrator, speaking a text adapted from an essay by Lewis Thomas. There is a great tradition in music of spoken text with musical accompaniment, the melodrama, but the idea of a violinist who speaks as she plays must be new.” Richard Dyer, The  Boston Globe, October 22, 1992 “A mixed all-Bell program at the Boston Conservatory”

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THE BLACK CAT (1987) Op.28

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Opus number: 28

Title: The Black Cat

Instrumentation: narrator, cello, piano (text by Edgar Allan Poe)

Date written: 1987, Viriginia Center for the Creative Arts

Length: twenty-one minutes

Commissioner and dedicatee: Eric Bartlett

Premiere performance:  Eric Bartlett, cellist, Wu Han, pianist, Larry Bell, narrator, April 1988, 92nd St. YMHA, New York City

Important subsequent performances: Eric Bartlett, cellist, Wu Han, pianist, Larry Bell, narrator, Longy School, Boston, 1988; Andrés Díaz, cellist, Michael Dewart, pianist, Steven McConnell, narrator, March 5, 1991, Boston Conservatory; Harry Clark, cellist, Sanda Schuldmann, pianist, Robert J. Lurtsema, narrator, Chamber Music Plus, Hartford, Conn., October 27, 1991; Eric Bartlett, cellist, Larry Bell, pianist, Robert J. Lurtsema, narrator, April 10, 1998, Boston Conservatory

Recordings: Eric Bartlett, cellist, Larry Bell, pianist, Robert J. Lurtsema, narrator, North/South Recordings #1018; tapes of two performances at The Boston Conservatory library, McConnell, Díaz, Dewart, and Lurtsema, Barteltt, Bell.

Program notes: “The Black Cat” harkens back to the monodrama made popular in the nineteenth century by Franz Liszt’s melodramas such as Der Traurige Monch. Richard Strauss’s later monodrama Enoch Arden, recorded by Claude Reins and Glenn Gould, helped inspire my ghost-story setting of Edgar Allan Poe’s familiar tale of murder and madness.

I augment the monodrama’s typical narrator-and-piano instrumentation to include a cello. The cello represents the cat; the piano portrays the man telling the story and also sets the climate for the individual scenes. The cello has its own leitmotifs, for example, the tri-tone glissando that mimics a “meow” similar to the effect found in Ravel’s animal opera. The music is based on the opening melody in G-sharp minor (frequently necessitating the F double-sharp scull-and-crossbones on the page). Although the narrator’s part is not notated musically, I carefully connected the words with the accompanying music. Poe’s characteristic blend of the horrible and the ordinary is not without moments of humor–after all, a grown man is driven crazy by an innocent small animal!

            The Black Cat (1987) was commissioned by and is dedicated to cellist Eric Bartlett, who, along with the composer, is a cat lover.

Reviews: [performance] “In reviving an outmoded and melodramatic 19th-century form, the composer assiduously avoided sticking tongue in cheek, writing into the music a  torrent of kitschy effects that Liszt himself might have appreciated. A rising tri-tone glissando on the  cello simulated the cat’s meow, for example, and the pianist (Wu Han) played tremolos and arpeggios to indicate the narrator’s increasing distress.” –Michael Kimmelman, The New York Times (May 1, 1988)

[recording] “Could the melodrama be coming back?  . . . Larry Bell’s The Black Cat sets Edgar Allan Poe’s famous tale of a man driven to insanity by the presence of first his own black cat, which he kills, and its replacement. The latter disrupts his already perilous hold on sanity, and, after driving him to murder his wife, manages to reveal the presence of the corpse to the authorities. The narrator tell[s] his tale while awaiting hanging for the murder. Bell gives the character of the cat to the cello, making much use of the instrument’s capacity for a variety of other-worldly effects, while the piano portrays the narrator as well as setting the scene. It is a very effective work. Perhaps the highest compliment that one can pay is that the music adds to the power and effectiveness of Robert J. Lurtsema’s narration (Lurtsema is the voice of WGBH Boston and is thus familiar to all fans of public televsion.)

“. . . The performances center around Eric Bartlett, a member of the New York Philharmonic and the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. The recorded sound is very good. This is a fine release.” –John Story, Fanfare May/June 1999

“Larry Bell, who holds the doctorate from Juilliard, has won a long list of prizes and grants, and teaches at the New England Conservatory. This disc offers four compositions which differ widely in mood and performing forces. The Black Cat, a monodrama, is an adaptation of a horror story by Edgar Allan Poe. A narrator relates the tale, ‘the cello represents the cat; the piano portrays the man telling the story and also sets the climate for the individual scenes’ in which ‘a grown man is driven crazy by an innocent small animal’ (liner notes) . . .

“The music once again combines traditional and modern sounds–an intriguing and satisfying union. The performances are first-rate (Bartlett is Acting Associate Principal cellist of the New York Philharmonic). It is exciting to find new and rewarding literature for cello!” –Jocelyn Mackey, Pan Pipes Fall 1999

The last work is a melodrama for narrator, cello and piano based on Poe’s taleThe Black Cat which the composer quite efficiently adapted from the original, leaving out many of the asides and thus tightening the narration. The cello represents the cat whose ‘meow’ is aptly stylised by a glissando, whereas the piano represents the narrator and sets the scene of the various episodes of the story. A superbly written and highly entertaining piece well worth a hearing. -Hubert Culot, MusicWeb.uk (Jan. 2003)

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SERENADE NO. 4  Walk That Lonesome Valley (2011) op. 112

Opus number: op. 112

Title: Serenade No. 4, Walk That Lonesome Valley

Instrumentation: Violin, Clarinet, and Piano

Written for: Zodiac Trio and the Boston New Music Project

Date written: 2011

Length: ten minutes

Premiere performance: February 3, 2012, The Zodiac Trio: Vanessa Mollard, violinist; Kliment Krylovskiy, clarinetist; Riko Higuma, pianist. Lawrence and Alma Berk Hall, Berklee College of Music.

Subsequent performances: August 19, 2012, Zodiac Trio, Cannongate Kirck Edinburgh. Edinburgh Festival. August 20, 2012, Zodiac Trio, City Hall Recital Hall, Candelriggs, Glasgow, Scotland

Program notes: This ten-minute work was written for the Boston New Music Project and the French trio, the Zodiac Trio. The fast- slow-fast three-movement structure is based on the old American folk song “Walk that Lonesome Valley” that was popularized by Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. The movement titles, Overtures-Invitation-Chase, allude to the romantic subtext of the serenade.

The music, for the most part, is thoroughly chromatic and is based on my own 116-note atonal melody. In the first and last movements, however, this long melody is interrupted by the music of the folk song creating surprising contrasts and comic effects. The writing of all of the parts is virtuosic and demanding to execute.

Reviews:

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SERENADE NO. 3 (2010) Op. 111

Opus number: op. 111

Title: Serenade No. 3

Instrumentation: Trumpet, Tenor Saxophone, and Piano

Commissioned: Chris Gekker

Date written: 2010

Length: nine and a half minutes

Premiere Performance: November 18, 2012, Chris Gekker, trumpet, Chris Vadala, saxophone. Joseph & Alma Gildenhorn Recital Hall, University of Maryland School of Music.

Subsequent performances: Fall 2013, Berklee College of Music, David Friend Recital Hall

Program notes: The composition of this piece was suggested to me by friend, trumpeter Chris Gekker. Chris and I recorded Poems for Trumpet and Piano and Four Lyrics for Trumpet and Piano (Albany CD). Chris has most recently been working with saxophonist Chris Vadala and pianist Rita Sloan. His idea was for a piece with a reflective, elegiac, and yet jazzy tone, that would blend well with other pieces he was hoping to record.

Serenade no. 3 is a trio for trumpet in Bb, tenor saxophone, and piano. The movements are: Overture–with up tempo cross-accented phrase rhythms; Interlude–an arioso recitative with cadenza like arabesques in the solo winds supported by a harpsichord like accompaniment; Duet–a song without words much like the slow movement of a trio sonata; Chase–a propulsive four-voice fugue written in a jazzy swinging rhythm with a witty conclusion.

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