Tsunami and Solesmes for flute orchestra
Tsunami
It is difficult to imagine how anyone who has seen images of the destructive power and horrific magnificence of the 2004 tsunami that poured over Southeast Asia could ever forget it. That is why I chose this “Memory” to be the first in a cycle of pieces for flute orchestra. Typical idiomatic flute writing with scales, trills and varieties of wind sounds has always proven ideal for representations of water. And piccolos, C flutes, alto flutes and bass flutes, in this case 24 of them, give the composer a wide range of possibilities over five octaves. Add to this the feeling of stereophonic space provided by dividing the orchestra and Tsunami becomes my impression of that calamitous event.
The solo cadenzas at the end form a bridge to the bass flute solo which opens the following movement, my memory of Solesmes.
Solesmes
One of my subjects in university was paleaography, the study of early notation and medieval music. During the course of study, a name which continually turned up was Solesmes, the Benedictine monastery in the wilds of the Loire Valley which had been assigned the task of finding the authentic Gregorian chant that had become lost and convoluted over the years. When at the age of 24, I had an opportunity to visit Europe, one of the first things I chose to do was find that monastery. I will never forget it! The music was so beautiful. The clouds of incense, the entire Latin service sung, and the ethereal sound of the voices resulted in an overwhelming sensory experience which has stayed in my mind until today.
No instrumental combination could be better suited to convey this impression than unison flutes. The subtleties in colour between registers and of course the instruments themselves, bass, alto, C flute and piccolo can transport the listener to a magical elevated world of pure sonic beauty. The movement I composed is very much in the style of Solesmes but without conscious quotations from the services. Working with the colour combinations of the four instruments, all playing in unison and octaves brought me infinite pleasure and transported me back to that fall day in 1964 in the abbé of Solesmes.
Robert Aitken
Tsunami
It is difficult to imagine how anyone who has seen images of the destructive power and horrific magnificence of the 2004 tsunami that poured over Southeast Asia could ever forget it. That is why I chose this “Memory” to be the first in a cycle of pieces for flute orchestra. Typical idiomatic flute writing with scales, trills and varieties of wind sounds has always proven ideal for representations of water. And piccolos, C flutes, alto flutes and bass flutes, in this case 24 of them, give the composer a wide range of possibilities over five octaves. Add to this the feeling of stereophonic space provided by dividing the orchestra and Tsunami becomes my impression of that calamitous event.
The solo cadenzas at the end form a bridge to the bass flute solo which opens the following movement, my memory of Solesmes.
Solesmes
One of my subjects in university was paleaography, the study of early notation and medieval music. During the course of study, a name which continually turned up was Solesmes, the Benedictine monastery in the wilds of the Loire Valley which had been assigned the task of finding the authentic Gregorian chant that had become lost and convoluted over the years. When at the age of 24, I had an opportunity to visit Europe, one of the first things I chose to do was find that monastery. I will never forget it! The music was so beautiful. The clouds of incense, the entire Latin service sung, and the ethereal sound of the voices resulted in an overwhelming sensory experience which has stayed in my mind until today.
No instrumental combination could be better suited to convey this impression than unison flutes. The subtleties in colour between registers and of course the instruments themselves, bass, alto, C flute and piccolo can transport the listener to a magical elevated world of pure sonic beauty. The movement I composed is very much in the style of Solesmes but without conscious quotations from the services. Working with the colour combinations of the four instruments, all playing in unison and octaves brought me infinite pleasure and transported me back to that fall day in 1964 in the abbé of Solesmes.
Robert Aitken