Three Stanzas (solo bass clarinet)

$25.00

Solo bass clarinet

Duration - 20’

In this three-movement poem for unaccompanied bass clarinet, sleep is the prevailing image.

While sleep can refer to the physical-biological requirement of the body, it can also

represent a spiritual-mental state of peace and calm. As the body seeks rest and renewal,

so does the mind and spirit.

The inability to sleep as described in the first movement is the product of an anxious mind

and restless soul. The weariness here somehow does not give way to sleep. Rather, it

becomes increasingly difficult to get comfortable and quiet down. Recall the frustration of

a sleepless night spent watching the hours tick by towards the inevitable sounding of the

alarm clock which signals the beginning of another work day. Go to sleep now and you

can still rest four hours... now three hours... now two... The sleep which is found at the

end of the movement is not restful or renewing. It comes out of total depletion. The

weariness has drained us.

The second movement reflects the nature of dreaming. Disjunct narrative elements are

integrated together as a single plotline. It is a wild adventure for a mind that wanders in a

dream world with unnatural rules. It is not, however, the protected fantasy that occurs

during REM sleep. Rather, this is a kind of waking dream, synonymous with aspiration

and ambition. The struggle and frustration of striving for something but not seeing a clear

path forward. As it imagines endless hypotheticals, pitfalls, and conflicts, the mind rides a

runaway train of thought into a panic attack.

The third movement evokes the image of a mother holding her infant, steadily comforting

the restless child with her low, quiet song. It is a musical meditation on the following

questions: What does it mean to hold someone, and what does it mean to be held? Who is

there to comfort us when we've upset ourselves? When do we release ourselves to be

comforted? When do we allow ourselves to be held? Do we trust enough to be supported

by someone else and fall asleep in their arms?

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Solo bass clarinet

Duration - 20’

In this three-movement poem for unaccompanied bass clarinet, sleep is the prevailing image.

While sleep can refer to the physical-biological requirement of the body, it can also

represent a spiritual-mental state of peace and calm. As the body seeks rest and renewal,

so does the mind and spirit.

The inability to sleep as described in the first movement is the product of an anxious mind

and restless soul. The weariness here somehow does not give way to sleep. Rather, it

becomes increasingly difficult to get comfortable and quiet down. Recall the frustration of

a sleepless night spent watching the hours tick by towards the inevitable sounding of the

alarm clock which signals the beginning of another work day. Go to sleep now and you

can still rest four hours... now three hours... now two... The sleep which is found at the

end of the movement is not restful or renewing. It comes out of total depletion. The

weariness has drained us.

The second movement reflects the nature of dreaming. Disjunct narrative elements are

integrated together as a single plotline. It is a wild adventure for a mind that wanders in a

dream world with unnatural rules. It is not, however, the protected fantasy that occurs

during REM sleep. Rather, this is a kind of waking dream, synonymous with aspiration

and ambition. The struggle and frustration of striving for something but not seeing a clear

path forward. As it imagines endless hypotheticals, pitfalls, and conflicts, the mind rides a

runaway train of thought into a panic attack.

The third movement evokes the image of a mother holding her infant, steadily comforting

the restless child with her low, quiet song. It is a musical meditation on the following

questions: What does it mean to hold someone, and what does it mean to be held? Who is

there to comfort us when we've upset ourselves? When do we release ourselves to be

comforted? When do we allow ourselves to be held? Do we trust enough to be supported

by someone else and fall asleep in their arms?

Solo bass clarinet

Duration - 20’

In this three-movement poem for unaccompanied bass clarinet, sleep is the prevailing image.

While sleep can refer to the physical-biological requirement of the body, it can also

represent a spiritual-mental state of peace and calm. As the body seeks rest and renewal,

so does the mind and spirit.

The inability to sleep as described in the first movement is the product of an anxious mind

and restless soul. The weariness here somehow does not give way to sleep. Rather, it

becomes increasingly difficult to get comfortable and quiet down. Recall the frustration of

a sleepless night spent watching the hours tick by towards the inevitable sounding of the

alarm clock which signals the beginning of another work day. Go to sleep now and you

can still rest four hours... now three hours... now two... The sleep which is found at the

end of the movement is not restful or renewing. It comes out of total depletion. The

weariness has drained us.

The second movement reflects the nature of dreaming. Disjunct narrative elements are

integrated together as a single plotline. It is a wild adventure for a mind that wanders in a

dream world with unnatural rules. It is not, however, the protected fantasy that occurs

during REM sleep. Rather, this is a kind of waking dream, synonymous with aspiration

and ambition. The struggle and frustration of striving for something but not seeing a clear

path forward. As it imagines endless hypotheticals, pitfalls, and conflicts, the mind rides a

runaway train of thought into a panic attack.

The third movement evokes the image of a mother holding her infant, steadily comforting

the restless child with her low, quiet song. It is a musical meditation on the following

questions: What does it mean to hold someone, and what does it mean to be held? Who is

there to comfort us when we've upset ourselves? When do we release ourselves to be

comforted? When do we allow ourselves to be held? Do we trust enough to be supported

by someone else and fall asleep in their arms?