I’ve just finished John Robertson’s commission, a five-minute work for piano, to be premiered next year on his junior piano recital.  This is the first in a series of pieces comprising an extended set for piano entitled ”Book of Hours”; each piece will represent an hour of the day.  John is a very good pianist who pays fine attention to detail, immaculately shaping phrases and producing a golden tone.  I’ve shaped this piece to fit these qualities he possesses; I’m sure John will do the work justice when he performs it.  In communication with John, I’ve described the piece a bit:

“Some performance notes: the piece begins in a rather meandering fashion, with little to go upon but wisps of melody (Debussy’s, actually) and winds and thoughts, some deep, some not, as the viewer sees a few stars through a thin layer of clouds.  The snatches of melody become more and more conjunct as the night becomes darker; then, as the ‘B’ section begins (page 2, third system) another thematic idea is presented, in the left hand.  This soon swirls into an earlier motif (a descending fourth), and the ‘wind’ blows in more snatches of the Debussy song, which disappears as quickly as it came.  Finally, the last clouds vanish and the complete array of stars is visible in an understated climax of clusters high in the treble.  But a tonic major 7th heralds the original Debussy motif, which is swept away in a final, gentle breath of wind.

The piece should be played quite slowly, and always with a sense of rhapsodic improvisation.  Runs should be clearly articulated but never pedantic.  But for a few exceptions, the piece never rises above a pianissimo; think late Ravel (especially some of the slower piano works), or even Takemitsu.  The beauty of this piece is that meaning is found in the absolute extremes of stillness, almost as if one is watching the surface of a placid lake, barely noticing the occasional ripple.”

‘nuit’ quotes a few notes of Debussy’s setting of the gorgeous Banville poem.  After writing a piece with such literary associations, I’ve decided to base each ‘hour’ on some poem, or prose, or simple quote (for instance, of of my favorites, by Willa Cather: ‘What was any art but a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.’)

I’ll post the sketches on Facebook sometime this week; be sure to check out my terribly messy scribblings (poor John!)  In the meantime, it’s off to making a neater, more readable copy, and starting work on a commission for Katie Crook’s senior recital.

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