NEC Symphonic Winds + Bill Drury

George Gershwin (arr. Mark Rogers) | Cuban Overture

Carl Latann (arr. John Hartmann) | "Light of Foot" March

Kenneth Alford | "The Thin Red Line" March

John Philip Sousa | "The New York Hippodrome" March

Warren Benson | The Leaves are Falling (1964-65)

The Leaves Are Falling is a statement of grief following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. For Benson, his feelings on the matter were encapsulated by Rainer Maria Rilke‘s poem Herbst (Autumn):

Autumn

The leaves are falling, falling as from way off,
as though far gardens withered in the skies;
they are falling with denying gestures.

And in the nights the heavy earth is falling
from all the stars down into loneliness.

We all are falling. This hand falls.
And look at others: it is in them all.

And yet there is one who holds this falling
endlessly gently in his hands.

Rainer Maria Rilke
 

Elizabeth Maconchy | Music for Woodwind and Brass (1965)

Nicolás Ayala-Cerón '22 DMA, graduate conductor

James M. Stephenson | Symphony for Brass: Just "B" (2020)

Dedicated to Frank L. Battisti
Nicolás Ayala-Cerón '22 DMA, graduate conductor

Like so many others, I had the distinct pleasure of playing under the baton of Frank Battisti; for me, while a trumpet performance major at New England Conservatory. Of course, like some others who have told me the same, I didn't know the wisdom I was hearing until years later, when I would be reminded of him, and think to myself: "Wow. He was so right."
        I was so thrilled at the opportunity to write piece in his honor, and I am grateful to Bill Drury and Wei-Pin Shen for making it possible.
        Once I had become a full-time composer, and had put a bit of music out there, I ran into "Mr. B." (as we all know him), and he offered some advice to me: "Write something slow." And so I knew that my first responsibility was to make sure that this piece followed that order.
        The rest of the piece is, in some ways, a description of my experiences with Frank. Of course, the trumpet (me) gets a bit of a solo work. At the onset, it is set amongst some trepidatious harmonies, like a freshman in college meeting new colleagues and directors and nervously feeling his way through the scenario.  Rhythms that echo "Mis-ter B.", and a hinted quote from Dahl's Music for Brass (which we played endlessly in his conducting class) permeate the texture, as they were a constant throughout my four years there.
        Climaxes and pedal-points all focus throughout on the note of B, for obvious reasons, until we finally arrive at the coda. Here the original solo trumpet returns, this time under more beautiful harmonies, representing that now the wealth of knowledge gained from Mr. B is more understood, and appreciated.
        It is important to note that the climaxes are always followed by a decrescendo, for fear of being "too loud" - an oft-cited problem with Frank.
        Finally, all of the brass players echo the same sentiments as the solo trumpet, resulting in a rapturous acknowledgment of the beauty of studying under Mr. B, and the joyous thankfulness we all have for having been blessed by such a wonderful opportunity.
        In the final bars, the last antiphonal trumpets and Gabrieli quote in the onstage trumpets (Canzona à 12 in echo) represent some of my strongest memories of playing under Mr. B - mostly because I was always scared to death of playing TOO LOUD. The last chord is, of course, B Major.

The title has several meanings, slightly different than what one might assume.

In this case, Just B means that if we can follow Mr. B's advice and live by his metaphors for music and life (of which there are hundreds!) - then we will have a solid and productive career, while setting good examples as citizens, for others to follow. Furthermore, I recall at school that if you put in the hard work, and always did your best, Frank always treated you fairly; meaning he was a "just" B.
     Basically, I just wanted this piece to be beautiful. That's the most important thing I can try to do to honor this man who has meant so much to me, and to so many.

P.S. - For those that don't know, the blue windbreaker was a constant for Frank, worn daily. Hence it is used on the cover of the printed materials for this piece.

 – James M. Stephenson

Gustav Holst | Second Suite in F for Military Band, op. 28 no. 2

March
Song Without Words
Song of the Blacksmith
Fantasia on the Dargason

Personnel

Flute
Honor Hickman
Anna Kevelson
Elizabeth Kleiber
Subin Oh
Joon Park
Junhyung Park
Dianne Seo

Oboe
Yuhsi Chang
Corinne Foley
Coleton Morgan
Helen Skilbred

Clarinet
Tristan Broadfoot
Sarah Cho
Xianyi Ji
Xiang Tao Ke
Kevin Lin
Cole Turkel

Bassoon
Zoe Beck
Adam Chen
Garrett Comrie
Andrew Flurer
Seth Goldman
Evan Judson
Kangwei Lu
Carson Meritt
Andrew Salaru
Jialu Wang

Saxophone
Yingjie Hong
Jordan Roach
Lila Searls
Daihua Song

French horn
Mattias Bengtsson
Huimin Mandy Liu
Graham Lovely
Mauricio Martinez
Jenna Stokes
Xiaoran Xu

Trumpet
Sarah Heimberg
Matthew Mihalko
Justin Park
Alexandra Richmond
Caitlin Tay
Jon-Michael Taylor
Cody York

Trombone
Elias Canales
Lukas Helsel
Jaehan Kim
Noah Korenfeld
Noah Nichilo
Alexander Russell
Kevin Smith

Bass Trombone
Roger Dahlin
Ki Yoon Park
Jason Sato

Euphonium
Jack Earnhart

Tuba
James Curto
Jordan Jenifor
Hayden Silvester

Percussion
Isabella Butler
Nga leng Lai
Mark Larrivee
Eli Reisz
Rohan Zakharia

Wind Ensemble Graduate
   Assistants

Nicolás Ayala-Cerón
Minchao Cai
Iverson Eliopoulos
Michael Lewis