“Dance 1” from Chants Music

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 17:32:49 -0800

Pianist Peter Gach playing “Dance 1” from Chants Music. As with other pieces in the Chants Music set, the work is inspired by global ecstatic traditions, in this case, the dancing of whirling Dervishes. For me, the rhythmic ostinato in the left hand represents the endlessly circling dancing of this tradition.
“Dance 1” will be included on a new CD of Southern California composers due out in Spring 2008.
-William Bradbury

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“Gregorian 1” from Chants Music

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 17:50:46 -0800

“Gregorian 1” is another piece from the Chants Music set based on global chant traditions, in this case Gregorian Chant. I have always been drawn to the beauty and deceptive simplicity of the chant of the Catholic church, hopefully this piece conveys some of that quiet otherworldliness. This very simple piece was composed almost instantaneously in one brief sitting; in some ways I think it is my favorite piece in the set. Sometimes the universe gives us a gift... Performed here by pianist Peter Gach.
-William Bradbury

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“Dance 2” from Chants Music

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 18:04:38 -0800

This recording is by my friend (and champion), Peter Gach. The piece is part of Chants Music, a set of five short piano pieces (three of which I composed for him). The music in the set is loosely inspired by global chant music traditions... This piece had an earlier “incarnation” as it was originally composed for saxophonist Merryl Goldberg and pianist Gila Goldstein who premiered the work as a duet. I challenged Peter by having him play both parts as once... In composing “Dance 2” I had in mind the many ecstatic dance traditions of the world (but none specifically). After its darker first section and melancholy middle section, I hope the piece conveys the feeling of joyful transcendence. This music (and other pieces of mine) will be included on a CD of Southern California composers due out in Spring 2008.
-William Bradbury

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LEAVES for Piano, Orchestra and Narrator

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 22:47:47 -0800

LEAVES for Piano, Orchestra and Narrator is a 27-minute piece in five movements, presented here in its entirety (it may take a long time to load, be patient...). It was composed for the 50th Anniversary of Palomar College and premiered by Peter Gach, piano, and the Palomar College Orchestra, Robert Gilson, conductor, with David Connor, narrator. The piece was inspired by a poem written by a dear friend of mine, David Roberts, who died tragically. David loved the lake country of the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York and this is reflected in the poem. The composition is in five movements played without pause; the poem is read in its entirety in the first movement and the last section of the poem again in the fifth movement. The complete poem and notes about the piece are below. The performance recording is from a concert by the Palomar College Orchestra. I know the work was quite a challenge for this talented community orchestra and I am indebted to them for all their efforts. I’m especially thankful to Bob Gilson, Peter Gach and David Connor for their talent and professionalism.

I. Leaves (first movement: 0:00-4:46) [Photo by Marko Kivelä at Flickr.com] The first movement presents the poem and the mood of the piece. The orchestra and pianist provide the narrator with a subdued accompaniment. (The complete poem text is below these notes).

II. Into the Deep: (second movement: 4:46-10:20) [Photo by Nathan Smith from NASA website] This movement has a darkness to it that speaks to the tragedy of death...loved ones leaving us, often before their time. This movement has variations of the melody from “Walk Me Out In The Morning Dew” which David and I used to sing a cappella when we were in our teens. The beautiful but melancholic melody was written by Canadian musician, Bonnie Dobson. The movement is based on this section of the poem:

From above,
in a dark canoe,
you will see
me drift
into the deep
like the ancient dust
of a star exploded
and sifting back
into the universe.

It starts out fairly quietly and builds to a dense climax with multiple overlapping melodies resolving into a unison for the full orchestra. A final tympani passage begins quietly then ushers in the third movement with a drum roll crescendo.

III. Night (third movement: 10:20-16:18). [Photo by Hamed Saber at Flickr.com] The third movement is the darkest of the piece. Dissonant, disjointed, angry, sickly. Angular virtuosic passages in the piano compete with blocks of sound from the orchestra, all finally pulled down “into the mire.” It is the environmental and human catastrophe of the third section of the poem:  “Listen: how the night throbs!
The herons go hungry,
the blighted hemlock falls,
and the beaver sickens and drowns in the mire.
You who moved to the cities
and forgot this place,
will soon be taken in,
and pulled down to the bottom,
sweet and soft,
like rotting cedar.” 
IV. Sob of the Sparrow (fourth movement:16:18-20:52) [Photo by Ecstaticist at Flickr.com] This gentle movement is based on a tonal lullaby I composed when in my early 20s (at a time when I was spending a lot of time with my friend David). Based on the fourth section of the poem:
  This is why my veins stung
when I saw the virgin pines.
This is why I moved
at the sob of a white-throated sparrow.
I returned,
year upon year,
to catch our faces
remembering who we were
as we peered over the gunnel
into the lake’s wide mirror.

A brief crescendo returns to the anger of the third movement and leads into the final movement.

V. Mirror (fifth movement: 20:52-26:55) [Photo by Lida Rose at Flickr.com] Opening with a tremolo passage for solo piano, the final movement then quietly drifts into what could be called the “music of the mirror.” A lengthy ostinato in the lower instruments supports the gentle wavelike movement of the “hills of diamonds.” For me this music represents not only the striking image of “treasure sparkling beneath the lake’s wide mirror” but also a return to the beautiful opening image of the poem. The piece ends in transcendence of pain and suffering, drifting “into the deep like the ancient dust of a star exploded and sifting back into the universe.”
-William Bradbury

With the Leaves of Yellow Birch
For George
With the leaves of yellow birch,
mix my ashes
and scatter me across
the bluest water
north.
From above,
in a dark canoe,
you will see
me drift
into the deep
like the ancient dust
of a star exploded
and sifting back
into the universe.

Scatter me on Stillwater
where, to tell the truth,
the New England coyote
woke me:
“My dung feeds the black spruce
and the cardinal flower.
In death, my carcass will host maggots
and sweeten the lavender pickerel weed
and make the crow’s eye shine all the blacker.”

“Listen: how the night throbs!
The herons go hungry,
the blighted hemlock falls,
and the beaver sickens and drowns in the mire.
You who moved to the cities
and forgot this place,
will soon be taken in,
and pulled down to the bottom,
sweet and soft,
like rotting cedar.”

This is why my veins stung
when I saw the virgin pines.
This is why I moved
at the sob of a white-throated sparrow.
I returned,
year upon year,
to catch our faces
remembering who we were
as we peered over the gunnel
into the lake’s wide mirror.

My, love,
I must tell you,
if you alone,
what I heard one night
camped on a sandy island:
“You will feel my touch as the balsam brushes across your lovely face.
You will taste my breath
as the late morning wind
stacks the water like hills of diamonds.
Even frail and blurred by age
you will see,
if you return,
treasure
sparkling
beneath
the lake’s wide mirror.”
-David Henry Roberts III

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Concert Music

“Dance 1” from Chants Music

“Gregorian 1” from Chants Music

“Dance 2” from Chants Music

LEAVES for Piano, Orchestra and Narrator