Absolute Music
Instrumentation
Solo trombone
Piccolo
2 flutes
2 oboes
English horn (doubles oboe 3)
2 clarinets
Bass clarinet (doubles clarinet 3)
2 bassoons
Contrabassoon
4 horns
3 trumpets (in C)
2 trombones
Bass trombone
Tuba
Timpani
Percussion (2 players)
Player one: snare drum, woodblock, 3 tom-toms,
Tam-tam, xylophone, glockenspiel, crotales, 5 nipple
Gongs (may be replaced by almglocken if gongs are
Unavailable; see notation key for pitches)
Player two: suspended cymbal, splash cymbal, sizzle
Cymbal, Chinese cymbal, triangle, bass drum,
Ceramic wind chimes, xylophone, marimba
Shared between players: glockenspiel, vibraphone
Harp
Strings (12-12-6-8-4 min.)
Solo trombone
Piccolo
2 flutes
2 oboes
English horn (doubles oboe 3)
2 clarinets
Bass clarinet (doubles clarinet 3)
2 bassoons
Contrabassoon
4 horns
3 trumpets (in C)
2 trombones
Bass trombone
Tuba
Timpani
Percussion (2 players)
Player one: snare drum, woodblock, 3 tom-toms,
Tam-tam, xylophone, glockenspiel, crotales, 5 nipple
Gongs (may be replaced by almglocken if gongs are
Unavailable; see notation key for pitches)
Player two: suspended cymbal, splash cymbal, sizzle
Cymbal, Chinese cymbal, triangle, bass drum,
Ceramic wind chimes, xylophone, marimba
Shared between players: glockenspiel, vibraphone
Harp
Strings (12-12-6-8-4 min.)
Commissioned by the South Jutland Symphony Orchestra, Sonderborg, DK,
Claus Skjold Larsen, Music Director, for trombonist Philip Brown.
Duration: ca. 22 minutes
Claus Skjold Larsen, Music Director, for trombonist Philip Brown.
Duration: ca. 22 minutes
I have, for some time now, been interested in the application of semiotics to the study,
performance and analysis of music. I have, thus, been fascinated, for the best part of a
decade, at least, with music that utilized codes, ciphers and topoi (a concept first defined by the
musicologist Robert Hatten), not only in analyzing music in the context of my teaching
activities, but also in my performance interpretation as well as composition. A lot of the music I
have written over the past few years (certainly since 2005 or so) has dealt with either
attempting to tell a story musically (the 2005 string octet, Ludi, which includes the possibility of
stage directions for the ensemble, and the cello concerto, Orfei Mors, written in 2009 and
dealing with the myth of Orpheus, come to mind) or, more commonly, some universal theme,
idea or concept (life in the digital age in my Chamber Symphony; religion and its apparent evils
in 2010’s Sacred Cows). In other words, what the 19th century would have called “program
music” (although I, personally, find that term too specific and narrow. Music should, ultimately,
stand on its own without the need for helpful stories to give it meaning or bring enjoyment to its
audience).
This work is not like those others. It is, rather, the first piece of music for its own sake
that I have written in many years. What the 19th century would have known as “absolute
music,” the opposite of “program music.” Hence, the title.
Rather than seeking to address some theme or idea in Absolute Music I chose, rather,
to luxuriate in the sonorities of the orchestra and the virtuosity of the trombone. Its topic, if it
has any at all (it certainly doesn’t have any in the “Hattenesque” sense), is music itself. Or,
rather, this music itself. The piece is cast in the traditional three movement model—fast-slowfast—
with each movement proceeding without pause. Absolute Music is a sort of gigantic
chaconne, since the entirety of its material is derived from a 25-note scale comprised of five
diatonic pentachords, each of which is treated as a harmonic region, and used to generate both
melodies and harmonies. The first two movements are treated strictly in this fashion and
behave as mirror images of each other, with the harmony cycling back through the five
pentachordal regions over the course of the two movements. The final movement is freer and
behaves rather like the finale of a Classical variation set.
All of which makes Absolute Music sound deathly serious. Trombones, after all, have
traditionally served, from their earliest history in the opera house, as the harbingers of doom
and gloom. Trombonists, on the other hand, are known—if I may be allowed a generalization—
for their boisterousness and humor. Absolute Music, while full of serious and lyrical musical
ideas, aims to capture at least some of this trait shared by so many trombonists I have known.
Absolute Music was commissioned by the South Jutland Symphony Orchestra, Claus
Skjold Larsen, Music Director, for trombonist Philip Brown. It is dedicated to the trombonist’s
wife, Margaret Pittman McCoy, an old, dear friend whose idea this collaboration was in the first
place.
performance and analysis of music. I have, thus, been fascinated, for the best part of a
decade, at least, with music that utilized codes, ciphers and topoi (a concept first defined by the
musicologist Robert Hatten), not only in analyzing music in the context of my teaching
activities, but also in my performance interpretation as well as composition. A lot of the music I
have written over the past few years (certainly since 2005 or so) has dealt with either
attempting to tell a story musically (the 2005 string octet, Ludi, which includes the possibility of
stage directions for the ensemble, and the cello concerto, Orfei Mors, written in 2009 and
dealing with the myth of Orpheus, come to mind) or, more commonly, some universal theme,
idea or concept (life in the digital age in my Chamber Symphony; religion and its apparent evils
in 2010’s Sacred Cows). In other words, what the 19th century would have called “program
music” (although I, personally, find that term too specific and narrow. Music should, ultimately,
stand on its own without the need for helpful stories to give it meaning or bring enjoyment to its
audience).
This work is not like those others. It is, rather, the first piece of music for its own sake
that I have written in many years. What the 19th century would have known as “absolute
music,” the opposite of “program music.” Hence, the title.
Rather than seeking to address some theme or idea in Absolute Music I chose, rather,
to luxuriate in the sonorities of the orchestra and the virtuosity of the trombone. Its topic, if it
has any at all (it certainly doesn’t have any in the “Hattenesque” sense), is music itself. Or,
rather, this music itself. The piece is cast in the traditional three movement model—fast-slowfast—
with each movement proceeding without pause. Absolute Music is a sort of gigantic
chaconne, since the entirety of its material is derived from a 25-note scale comprised of five
diatonic pentachords, each of which is treated as a harmonic region, and used to generate both
melodies and harmonies. The first two movements are treated strictly in this fashion and
behave as mirror images of each other, with the harmony cycling back through the five
pentachordal regions over the course of the two movements. The final movement is freer and
behaves rather like the finale of a Classical variation set.
All of which makes Absolute Music sound deathly serious. Trombones, after all, have
traditionally served, from their earliest history in the opera house, as the harbingers of doom
and gloom. Trombonists, on the other hand, are known—if I may be allowed a generalization—
for their boisterousness and humor. Absolute Music, while full of serious and lyrical musical
ideas, aims to capture at least some of this trait shared by so many trombonists I have known.
Absolute Music was commissioned by the South Jutland Symphony Orchestra, Claus
Skjold Larsen, Music Director, for trombonist Philip Brown. It is dedicated to the trombonist’s
wife, Margaret Pittman McCoy, an old, dear friend whose idea this collaboration was in the first
place.