March 3, 2007

    A year has passed since last piece below, now I have a new piano, a remarkable Falcone 6'1" from l988 built by the master builder Santi Falcone in Haverhill MA. I recorded several minutes of improvisations one afternoon to test recording the action and tone quality of the bass; here is the sequence just as it was recorded with no digital enhancements at all.

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    Marchwind 2006

    It is on St. Valentine's day when the birds were supposed to meet and mate, but here in Vermont it is in March when a hundred robins return to my tree, flit around and then disappear to their nesting. I know spring is coming soon if not yet, but now the air is a little softer and that shows in this Marchwind music.

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    Winterchill 2006

    Recorded on an exceptionally bitter Feburary evening in a single sequence, this piece had no intention of being 'program music'. Editing it a few mornings later I felt a chill emanating from the music - - - a blunt frigidity with swirling snow gusts and icicles dripping in the morning sunlight. But this has nothing to do with the music of course.

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    Moods of a Fall Afternoon 2005

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    This was composed on November 2 2005 in a ten minute sequence without breaks, apparently based on a scrap of paper which I found later on the piano, with these varied notions:

           ...... brooding Afternoon
          ...... plaintiff sadness
          ...... echoes on stones ruins
          ...... threat of tutumn
           ...... a winter chill
           ...... foreboding
           ...... Osiris and Elpis
          ...... forest chorale       [to printout]

    Frantic Impromptu November 2005

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    . . . .from a dream sequence midnight Jan.19th

    Acoustic Textures

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    This was recorded as a single take on a summer afternoon in August 05, as a way of bringing together a variety of sound "textures" which seemed a special part of that day.

    The range was from the [[heavy feeling]] of wet summer heat, then some building (clouds) light at first becoming dense, soon broken by | abrupt | staccato rising figures quickly fading into a chorale of {{ rustling }} cedar branches and finally         after a space         closing with something like ......needle work..... on a rough burlap ground.

    Consider these words a prose-poem of sorts, having little to do with the music, but added here to suggest a sly angles for careful listening.

William Harris
Prof. Em. Middlebury College