New Jersey Percussion Ensemble
William Paterson University
Department of Music

presents

9th Annual Composer in Residence Day
Director
Peter Jarvis

with

Resident Composer

Wayne Peterson
featuring the
New Jersey Percussion Ensemble

and Friends

 panel discussion following the concert

William Paterson University
Shea Center for the Performing Arts

Thursday, March 2, 2006
12:30 PM
Admission is $3.00
WPU Students - Free Admission

Mallets Aforethought (1990) - Wayne Peterson
            for Percussion Quartet
                       
I.                    Omens
                        II.                 Intermezzo
                        III.               Saturnalia

Brandan Hogan, Mark Richardson,
Shannon McClure, Shannon Zakarison

 Peter Jarvis – Conductor

from Four Preludes for Solo Piano (2000) - Wayne Peterson
                        II.         Fading Embers
                        III.       Valse Subliminale

Margaret Kampmeier - Piano

Monarch of the Vine (1998) - Wayne Peterson
            for Percussion Quartet
                       
I.                    Dithyramb
                        II.                 Bacchanal

Justin Wolf, Michael Sperone,
April McCloskey, Joe Bergen

 Peter Jarvis – Conductor

Program notes by Wayne Peterson

             Mallets Aforethought 1981 – 1982 was written in response to a Norman Fromm Commission for the San Francisco Chamber Music Society. The 1982 premiere performance was by the Jerome Neff Percussion Ensemble. This three movement piece requires a minimum of four players. It employs an almost comprehensive battery of percussion instruments, thus affording a rich and varied palette of colors and effects.
            The first movement, Omens, takes the form of a single, arch-like rise and fall. Beginning mysteriously with non-pitched sounds, the keyboard instruments (vibraphone, marimba, xylophone, etc.) are added and lead to a dramatic climax. As calm is gradually restored, fragments of the opening measures return in reverse order and bring the movement to an uneasy close.
            Intermezzo
combines the formal procedures of both rondo and variation. The pattern is: A, B, A (variation 1, C, A (variation 2), and A (variations 3) serving as a quietly concluding coda. The gentle A sections deal exclusively with non-pitched instruments. Each of their variations manipulates motifs from the first sixteen measures while adding new sonorities. Pitched percussion dominates the B and C sections, the latter of which containing the culminating tensions of the movement.
            Saturnalia
is a more conventional rondo: (A B A C A Coda). Here the feeling of reckless abandon dominates. The B and C sections offer momentary relief, the former hinting at a processional containing references to an Indonesian Gamelan. The C portion, while maintaining the tempo of the preceding passage, offers quiet dynamic relief via the employment of wire brushes on various instruments.  Immediately thereafter, tensions rise dramatically, culminating in a violent, rhythmically irregular coda.            

My Preludes were completed in December of the year 2000. They are dedicated to the acclaimed pianist, David Holzman who encouraged their creation.
            My goal was to write a group of straight-forward pieces which were united by a common musical language. While the Preludes are formally coherent in an abstract sense they all bear programmatic titles suggestive of a scenario or mood.
            Fading Embers
was inspired by evocative lines from a ninth century Chinese poet, Li Shang-yin:

 “Dreams of remote partings, cries which cannot summon. . . “

 In short, Fading Embers is a wistful, nostalgic reawakening of poignant events buried in the past.
            The over-all form in binary. The first section contains three parts: a quiet, reflective opening, a passionate, cadenza-like outcry and an abbreviated return to the beginning. Then, high distant bells, gradually becoming more insistent, merge into sensuous harmonies upon their descent. Immediately after they dissolve into pianissimo fragments, the tolling bells return a final time to close the piece with funeral inflections.
            Strictly speaking, Valse Subliminal is not a traditional waltz. It is, rather, a series of surrealistic, often mercurial flashbacks concerning various aspects of the waltz repertoire which have produced vivid impressions on me. Throughout the work are indirect references to the music of Brahms, Berg, Ravel and Bill Evans.
            The form is quite clear. A short fanfare sets the stage for (1) a broad, expressionistic melody that is cut short by (2) brief allusions to a fast jazz waltz. There follows a transition consisting of an agitated, rhythmically irregular melody in the bass. Ascending to the upper register, it leads to (3) concluding, fortissimo motifs reminiscent of La Valse. These three components are expository. Two variations ensue which greatly extend and develop this material – particularly that pertaining to the jazz waltz and the Ravel motifs. A high point culminating in a brilliant presto flourish brings the piece to a resounding conclusion.

     Monarch of the Vine was completed in December of 1997. My intentions were to write aurally and visually engaging music that took full advantage of the coloristic – rhythmic resources of a large battery of percussion instruments. The initial task involved selecting a basic collection of membraphones and idiophones for each member of the quartet that would be similar, yet somewhat distinct in sound, thus enhancing the possibility for antiphonal dialogue. Foe example, each player was given a number of drums, gongs, and cymbals which offered perceptibly different tunings and timbres. In addition, four mallet instruments – marimba, vibraphone, xylophone and glockenspiel – were similarly distributed. Other choices were made on the basis of color contrast provided by the bell tree, flexitone, assorted wind chimes, brass prayer bowls, etc.
                Upon completion of this work, I noticed that there were many moments in both the slow and fast movements which, in spite of the exacting precision demanded of the ensemble, would seem quite free and full of passionate abandon. By analogy, this reminded me of certain rites emanating from ancient Greece and Rome which celebrated the euphoria produced by the intoxicating defects of wine. It seemed appropriate, therefore, to title the two respective movements, Dithyramb, a slow dance honoring Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, and Bacchanal, a festival of wild drunken revelry by the devotes of the Roman god Bacchus.
                My compositional procedures are essentially the same for both movements. The opening series of phrases present melodic and rhythmic gestures which are subsequently combined, developed and varied in a manner that should be immediately clear and direct to the listener. The Dithyramb is formally the simplest, consisting of an exposition, development and recapitulation in retrograde. The final, far more brilliant Bacchanal is through composed. Its many highly charged and contrasting sections are related to one another by gestures originating in the first 24 measures. As the conclusion approaches, tensions reach their apex by way of a steadily increasing rhythmic irregularity which culminates in a highly dissonant, fortissimo climax.

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04/30/2006 09:10:42 PM