Boutade
for trombone, piano and percussion

When approached by the Flederman Trio to write a work for them my first reaction was a very mixed one. Naturally, I was pleased to be asked to write for such an accomplished group of musicians, but I was also fearful of my ability to accomplish a satisfactory ensemble between the three instruments. As I had already written a suite for trombone and piano in 1976, the major problem was focussed on the percussion – how to accommodate it where appropriate, either as a foreground or background element in the ensemble: this became the pertinent compositional determinant. The result is a three movement work in a mildly jazz idiom with the first movement in a simple ternary form, the second a set of variations and the third a fugue

Cello Concerto
for cello and orchestra (1989)

Listen to an excerpt (313K MP3)

17 minutes

Written in 1989 as a commission from Gary Williams, Principal Cello of the Queensland Symphony, the Cello Concerto comprises two movements of contrasting tempo and mood. The first is slow and nostalgic in character while the second is imbued with rhythmic energy and vibrant orchestral colours. In commissioning the work, Gary made two requests; that I write a movement based on a melancholic cantabile theme and include an extensive section for cello and percussion. The principal theme of the first movement fulfils the first request and the second movement contains a canon for cello and two percussion instruments sounded against a veiled and sustained string background.

Both movements are episodic in form. In the first movement the opening theme is presented three times, each time in a different orchestral context. The second time it is played by the oboe with the cello weaving a counter melody around it. Its third appearance is in the upper tessitura of the cello against a background of pastel shimmering orchestral ambience. In the second movement this theme is recalled fleetingly on the solo violin, just prior to the Doppler-like canon. Towards its conclusion the piece builds in moto perpetuo fashion with the cello diving the music ever forwards.

Clarinet Concerto
for clarinet and orchestra (1985)

Listen to an excerpt (217K MP3)

18 minutes

Bracanin’s mellow, dolorous music is, unusually, in the first movement of this concerto, completed in December 1985. The sense of meandering melancholy is profound, and only intensified by Bracanin’s manipulation of modal fragments, leading from simpler to more complex forms as the movement progresses, and his slow-moving "Slavic" bass line. Yet the music is solidly tonal and gloriously open in its sound. In 1992 Charles Southwood observed: "You float out ideas into the gravitational field of a key, but you never let them drop back hard onto a key note, unless you want to. Instead, they all float independently of one another, and yet this gravitational field . . . holds the diversity of colours and sounds together. That’s very clever."

The second movement is the concerto’s most substantial, constructed upon a basis of tempo and thematic contrasts, including references back to material of the first movement. A highlight of the movement is a delightful jazz passage, where Bracanin imitates an early-1950s style. The flexible authentically swung clarinet line is accompanied by block chords on strings and brass.

Concluding this concerto is a vivace finale, which acts as a joking postlude after the more serious musical business of the first two movements. There is some rumbustious scattering of thematic fragments between soloist and the orchestral sections, before a very loud, spectacular coda for full orchestra.

© 1995 Malcolm Gillies

Concertino
for piano and strings (1983)

Listen to an excerpt (452K MP3)

14 minutes

Bracanin’s Concertino for Piano and Strings is a reworking into one continuous movement of his first piano concerto which is a three movement work scored for piano & symphony orchestra. The revision was undertaken as the result of a commission and although it does not contain the varied orchestral timbres of the original, it gains somewhat structurally from being a tighter work. The composer retained both cadenzas of the original, and begins and concludes the Concertino with material from the final movement of the version with orchestra. Pianist Pamela Page premiered the full concerto in 190 with the Queensland Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Vanco Cavdarski.

Concerto for Orchestra no. 1
for symphony orchestra (1985)

14 minutes

Completed in February 1985, the Concerto for Orchestra No. 1 is so named because it observes the traditional three-movement tempo profile (fast, slow, fast) and treats the instrumentation of the symphony orchestra in a concerto-like fashion. However, the organisation of thematic material within each movement bears no obvious connection with traditional procedures of musical design except for the second movement which is based on the ritornello principle.

Rhythms reminiscent of the jazz idiom underlie the thematic ideas of the first movement within a harmonic and textural framework which fulfills a complementary role, but at times also exerts a marked degree of independence. Although through-composed, the movement divides into two major sections connected by an episode begun by solo oboe lightly accompanied by strings and bassoons and taken over by solo flute. Section two is based on an eight bar passage repeated three times in transposition, each time a perfect fifth or higher. A coda combining ideas from both major sections completes the movement, with the cow bell delivering the final statement in a timbral recall of the opening bars.

Sounding against a transparent background of B flats orchestrated with flute, clarinets, harp and viola, the solo horn theme which opens the second movement provides the superstructure for the movement’s other five varied thematic sections. The opening theme is treated as a refrain which reappears in different instrumental guises throughout the movement. Whereas the overall tempo is slow and the mood doloroso, there are two sections of lighter, more jovial character. About three-fifths through the movement, the French horn theme appears in an extended version with added countermelody. Strings and clarinets are the medium on this occasion leading into the main climax of the movement. Solo violin accompanied in the final bars by solo viola brings the movement to a serene close with a varied version of the opening theme.

In contrast to the second movement, with its numerous thematic sections of differing character, the final movement is based entirely on the intervallic material of the opening bars. Nevertheless, three different textural perspectives are explored in the process of presenting the same intervallic combinations. Like the opening section, which is recalled in different guises a further two times towards the end of the movement, the remaining two sections assume quite independent features. The first to be encountered is a motto perpetuo rendering initially carried by the strings and piccolo snare drum but constantly interrupted by woodwinds and trumpets. In the latter part of this section the flutes and clarinets present the same material as the strings, but in thematic inversion. Three arpeggiated chords, comprising a superimposed major third and perfect fifth, sounded by harp, piano and brass provide the "head motive" for the remaining section. This chordal structure subsequently serves to add rhythmic emphasis to the otherwise predominantly linear argument of this section.

Dance Gundah
for didjeridu and orchestra (1999)

Listen to an excerpt (188K MP3)

15 minutes

Dance Gundah is a concerto wherein cultures combine. It brings together the primeval earthiness of the didjeridu, nurtured through an oral tradition of some forty thousand years, and the majesty of the symphony orchestra, founded only some two hundred and forty years ago. Recently, the didjeridu’s traditional role as an accompanying instrument for singers and dancers in sacred and secret ceremonies has been extended into the popular music arena. Now Dance Gundah propels it into coexistence with classical music in partnership with the symphony orchestra. Its many voiced sounds and attendant emotional states are blended within the orchestra and contrasted with it, in much the same way as a solo instrument in a typical concerto.

In composing this concerto, I was mindful not to compromise the dignity or integrity of the two musical cultures. Rather, my aim was to create a viable synthesis of them and, in so doing, bridge and reconcile their musico-cultural divide in the making of a work that is truly multicultural. Such recently established bands as Yothu Yindi (which includes Anglo-Celtic Australian musicians) have incorporated the didjeridu as a lead and rhythm instrument lending emphasis to these bands’ Aboriginality. Yothu Yindi is a great band with a worthy political message. My aim with Dance Gundah is to effect a fusion wherein Aboriginal Australian and European Australian musics resonate in music of international goodwill, preserving both the spiritual expression of the didjeridu and the cultural associations of the polish and precision of the symphony orchestra. Cast in the Western tradition of a three-movement concerto (fast, slow, fast), Dance Gundah occupies a unique position in the history of both Occidental and Australian Aboriginal music.

Dances Soulful and Sanguine
for clarinet, viola and cello (1990)

15 minutes

Dances Soulful and Sanguine consists of four pieces in each of which a specific mood is established and generally maintained throughout. The first piece is contemplative and of the nature of an improvisation in which foreground thematic material passes from player to player. By contrast, in the second piece all players share the texture on an equal basis with the unfolding of a generally "up tempo" fugue. With the third piece, the relaxed mood of the first is recaptured, however, it is invested with a greater degree of sentimentality. The final piece is a romp, recalling the jazz-like idiom of the fugue but in the manner of a whimsical waltz.

Elysian Voyage
for string orchestra (1992)

10 minutes

Completed in July 1992, Elysian voyage was commissioned by the Macedonian conductor Vanco Cavdarski for his recently formed Soloists of Belgrade Chamber Orchestra. As this string orchestra comprises the finest young players in Belgrade, it seemed appropriate, when the opportunity arose, that the Camerata of St John be the orchestra in Australia to premiere Elysian Voyage. It is a young person’s piece, not in the degree of required technical difficulty or musical maturity, but in its general demeanour and character.

Cavdarski insisted on three compositional requirements: that the piece contain at least one poetically poignant lyrical section, a fugue, and some scope to feature the leader and the principal cello. It is my hope that I have successfully discharged this obligation, while at the same time providing a rewarding piece for players and audience alike.

Eternal Image
for soprano, clarinet, horn and piano (1998)

Listen to an excerpt (248K MP3)

11 minutes

A commission by the outstanding Brisbane-based Southern Cross Soloists, yielded a setting of a portion of Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage for soprano, clarinet, horn and piano. This is the same epic poem that had inspired Berlioz’s Harold in Italy.

The line that particularly appealed to me was "Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean roll!" In order to render it contextually, I chose to set the previous canto, miss out the following three and then set the next two successive cantos.

Because these verses are particularly rich in visual imagery they provided the challenge to produce a faithful reflection in musical terms and to capture the ever-changing temperaments of the sea, as well as Harold’s reactions to its fearful characteristics and the joys that it yields.

The four cantos of the text are delivered in a through-composed manner with musical interludes that serve to introduce and sustain ongoing sentiments and provide the means to establish and affect mood changes.

Four Diversions
for guitar (1984)

Listen to an excerpt (302K MP3)

11 minutes

The Four Diversions for guitar are dedicated to Isolde Schaupp. Broadly speaking, the Diversions explore two constrasting moods from a variety of musical perspectives. Reverie or melancholy contempation, on the one hand, and whimsicality, but of an impellingly skittish nature, on the other

Guitar Concerto
for guitar and orchestra (1991)

Listen to an excerpt (203K MP3)

23 minutes

Completed in March 1991, to a commission from the Brisbane guitarists Isolde and Karin Schaupp, this concerto presents three movements in unashamedly neo-Classic style, following the traditional fast-slow-fast pattern of movements. The interplay between soloist and orchestra is stark from the start, recalling the ritornello mood of Baroque or early Classic concertos. Its first movement exploits the guitar’s espressivo capacities in extensive solo breaks or accompanied passages employing crisp, light figurations on the strings.

That expressive quality is also found in the doloroso second movement, where the main theme enters against a glassy, static, quiet backdrop on strings and dove-tailed short, repeated motives on the woodwind. Only rarely, as for a few bars in the middle of this movement, does Bracanin allow the guitar to relinquish the limelight through providing choral accompaniment to a melody on bassoon and violas.

The third movement is more consistently vivacious than the earlier two, with the interplay between soloist and orchestra culminating in very rapid alternations between the solo guitar and members of the brass section. The music forges on through short cadenzas and several attempted climaxes, before simply running itself out in a duo for solo guitar and bongos.

Lost in a Long Dream
for SATB chorus (1986)

Text by Douglas Stewart

15 minutes

In commissioning a short choral work from me, Dr. Roy Wales asked especially for a setting of Australian poetry with unmistakeably Australian flavour. The resulting work Lost in a Long Dream is a cycle of five poems taken from the set of twenty-one entitled On the Birdsville Track, by Australian poet Douglas Stewart.

Throughout the cycle, two principal guidelines were observed with the setting to music of the poetry. Namely, the achievement of the most lucid presentation of the text possible while reflecting the general mood of each poem through harmonic and textural means. For example, in the fourth piece "The Seaweeds", the opening line "Not in our time but lost in a Long Dream" is set in whole-tone harmonisation in an attempt to capture the "timeless" quality of dreaming, while at the same time conveying the languid movement of seaweeds gently persuaded into motion by the seas omnipotent presence. In other instances, specific word painting is undertaken. "World’s End", the first poem begins "Bright and golden and hard…" for which chordal statements have been appropriated to reflect each of the three descriptive words.

Midsummer Night's Music
for guitar trio (1999)

Commissioned by and dedicated to the Dubrovnik Guitar Trio, Midsummer Nights’ Music comprises a suite of four pieces of contrasting speeds, textures and moods. Its title is a reference to the premiere taking place during the summer in the Adriatic as part of Music Evenings series in Osor. Maroje Brčić, one of the members of the Dubrovnik Trio remarked of the suite that “the music makes a strong impression, particularly as each piece has its own atmosphere but nonetheless makes a compact whole with the other pieces."

Muzika Za Viganj / Dalmation Sojourn
for symphony orchestra (1989)

Listen to an excerpt (318K MP3)

12 minutes

Composed in 1989, Dalmatian Sojourn is dedicated to the memory of my father who was born in the small town of Viganj on the Adriatic coast of Croatia. I was particularly concerned to capture the essence of the Dalmatian folk idiom, and while not using an actual folk song, I based the principal theme on the character of the dance music played at the end of the harvest season when the peasants do a kind of circle dance. Additionally, the mood of the music is intended to capture the two basic aspects of my father’s personality - one the hand, movement, colour and exuberance signifying his joy of life, and on the other, sustained cantabile melodies to characterise the melancholic, nostalgic side of his demeanour.

Spiral Resonance
for wind symphony (2000)

Intended as a piece for young people to enjoy playing, Spiral Resonance derives its title from the sensation of a kind of spirally onwards, upwards and outwards experienced in the opening and closing sections of the piece. Its overall form is arch-like about the central slow section. The second and penultimate sections exert a different kind of buoyant energy and rely on colour and ostinato rhythms. The C pedal point clearly anchors these sections in relation to the more harmonically fluid sections that occupy the other episodes that comprise the piece.

Symphony No. 2
for soprano, chorus and orchestra (1995/97)

40 minutes

There are so few choral symphonies that any attempt to compose one in the modern era will always invite comparison with the great works of Vaughan Williams and Gustav Mahler (whose Second Symphony, like Bracanin’s was his first ‘choral symphony’). Bracanin’s Choral Symphony is probably closer in spirit and sound to the former than it is to the latter. But Bracanin organises his material more tightly than either. While, at forty minutes, it’s still an expansive work, the Choral symphony never conveys the impression of overstaying its welcome. As in the Third Symphony, the compositional weight is thrown into the outer movements. Bracanin chooses texts from Judith Wright and W. H. Auden for a work which, in keeping with the ‘philosophical’ theme of most choral symphonies, centres around the contemplation and celebration of time. It’s an optimistic work in which time is hailed as a creative and liberating force, and it marks perhaps the definitive statement by the composer on a concept which has intrigued him for more than a decade.

The Choral Symphony opens atmospherically and with utmost beauty. Icy chords in the strings usher in a brief brass chorale and then the chorus’ wordless entry establishes a mood of deep calm. But soon a crescendo leads to a secondary theme in which insistent motoric rhythms drive the movement on toward a trumpet fanfare and perhaps an unconscious echo of the opening of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony (Judith Wright’s contrast between the adult and childlike perception of time is perhaps another poetic idea which Mahler himself might have enjoyed). A solo soprano enters on Wright’s words "Here is the same clock", establishing an elegiac, lyrical and nakedly emotional mood which will continue for much of the remainder of the movement, returns of the distinctive motor rhythms notwithstanding. The chorus, wordless once more, brings this inspired movement to a close.

After the stifling beauty of the opening Andante, the second movement, Allegro molto, is bright and breezy and scored for orchestra only. In an endless stream of melody (listen in particular to the modal inflections in the melody for cor anglais), the principal theme is tossed back and forth between sections of the orchestra in a movement which is as charming as it is brief.

The chorus returns in the third movement, and with them a ticking, recurrent quaver pattern that serves as an accompaniment to much of the movement as a whole. W. H. Auden’s words "going round and round" achieve the very musical effect which they describe, while the chorus closes off the movement by reminding "How wrong they are in being always right".

There is more than a hint of majesty in the choral writing in that third movement, but now the grandeur of the overall conception is laid bare in the finale, explicitly marked maestoso. Here, with Judith Wright again providing the text, the praises of time are sung in the grand English choral tradition (one can imagine this kind of uplifting movement being sung at the Three Choirs Festival).

Where the choir has woven itself in and out of the Symphony to date, here it dominates the opening of the movement. A swirling theme for orchestra introduced in the strings leads to a great climax, soon after which the mood of the opening movement returns as the solo soprano offers the innocent vision "Here where I walk was the green world of a child" and the plaintive falling semitone figure which we heard in the opening movement too.

A second orchestral interlude, lighter and with jaunty little wind figures, then prepares the way for the triumphant return of the choir singing the praises of time. At its triumphant conclusion, the symphony has offered not just an affirmation of time, but of life and love too, in a way which can appeal directly to the emotions.

Symphony No. 3
for symphony orchestra (1995/97)

28 minutes

Symphony No. 3 was composed at the invitation of conductor Werner Andreas Albert and is dedicated to him. Scored for orchestra only, this Third Symphony is a work of genuine appeal and it features some striking orchestral writing. Again it contains features which we have heard in the Second Symphony, including the employment of motoric rhythms and some quite distinctive writing for wind instruments.

It opens dramatically with timpani rolls and some chordal figures in the strings. The motor rhythms in quavers begin early in the piece and with themes and fragments of themes being tossed around, the large shadow of Sibelius is never far away.

But after a driving climax, suddenly a more reflective passage marked Lusingando (flatteringly, alluringly) enters on the oboe and is then taken over and shared by the other wind instruments and soon the strings. It rises to great heights of passion before subsiding back from whence it came. Keen-eared listeners may notice some affinity between the glorious string writing here and that in the final pages of Vaughan Williams’ Fifth Symphony, although any connection seems unintentional.

The movement then proceeds through further rousing climaxes, distinctive Bracanin ‘maestoso’ passages, and another sublime slower section (featuring more magnificent solo passages for wind) before drawing to an emphatic and singularly impressive conclusion, complete with exotic colourings on glockenspiel and harp.

The second movement, Andante lusingando, is particularly deeply felt, beginning with constantly changing slow rhythms which convey a sense of the melodies ‘breathing’. Again we hear just a hint of Sibelian thematic fragments before a more vigorous Allegro enters abruptly and with the snare drum introducing an almost military feel to proceedings. In the middle of the movement a typical Bracanin device – an ostinato pattern in crotchets in the lower strings and wind – introduces a greater sense of urgency before the poignant main theme and mood of calm resignation return for the conclusion.

An upward rush in the bassoon and cello introduces the Allegro vivace, built around swirling quaver figures. Once again the glockenspiel is used with imagination to embellish the melodies with shards of broken glass. Over a base of strings, wind and brass toss ideas playfully from one to another as the movement surges on toward its unexpectedly abrupt climax.

We then arrive at another Bracanin maestoso in the energetic finale. Fragments of melody heard in earlier movements are progressively pieced together as once more the sense of triumph, so familiar from the Second Symphony, is evoked once more. A more expressive passage, marked Andante cantabile, provides an intense contrast as it returns throughout the movement, but before long one senses the forces being marshalled once more as the insistent rhythms assert their dominance. Elegy and action are brought into an unusual organic unity as a cymbal and drum flourish brings down the rousing final chord.

This composer, who is so fascinated by time, has once again demonstrated his musical gift, which is to make that very same time stand still.

© 2000 Martin Buzacott

Thoughts/Feelings/Actions
for Solo Guitar (1997)

Listen to an excerpt (96K MP3)

9 minutes

These three character pieces were commissioned by Karin Schaupp, Australia’s most outstanding young guitarist, for inclusion in her solo recital at the Darwin International Guitar Festival in 1997. Karin asked me to write one piece based on tremolo technique, another in a melancholic, sentimental mood and a third in a pseudo-jazz style. Unlike most tremolo pieces where the melody is sounded in the bass part, in Thoughts I have incorporated the theme within the texture of the tremolo itself. It is also unusual in that it is written in the transposed locrian mode (on b) which sounds a diminished fifth above the final. While Thoughts is meditative, Feelings brings these thoughts on to an emotive level and Actions projects them into physical existence as toe tapping music.

Throw a Heaven Around a Child
for baritone and piano (1979), or baritone and guitar (1983), or baritone and orchestra (1986)

Texts by Yeats, J. Wright, J Shaw Neilsen, T Connor

16 minutes

Throw a Heaven Around a Child, a song cycle of five songs for baritone and piano was composed in 1978 for Arthur Johnson and Bevan Crabtree. While in America on study leave in 1977, I befriended the English poet Tony Connor who wrote a poem signifying the initial awakening by his daughter Rebecca of her blossoming into early womanhood. As Tony asked me to set it to music I decided to use his poem as the central piece in this cycle which traces the development of a female child to the stage where she leaves home to seek an independent lifestyle. The remaining four poems are by W. B. Yeats, J. Shaw Neilson and J. Wright.

Time Flows, Not You
for SATB Chorus (1990)

Listen to an excerpt (234K MP3)

Text by Kenneth Slessor

10 minutes

In choosing to set poetry by the Australian Kenneth Slessor, I was attracted not only by the sentiments expressed but also by the propensity of the lines to scan musically. Although there is nothing overtly Australian about the descriptions and metaphors employed by Slessor, nevertheless, there is a strong, indeed almost overpowering, Australian sensibility in the manner in which the verses in the three poems I have set (viz., "Waters", "Stars", and "Out of Time") relate notions of optimism on the one hand, and unfulfilled desires and goals, on the other; a sensibility with which I Immediately identified on first reading Slessors’ poems. In setting the poems, I have endeavoured to maximise the effect of coupling the timbral qualities of the voices with appropriate harmonic statements (whether for example to convey the onset of darkness, as in "Waters" or, in "Out of Time" to represent the cruel harshness of "Time" likened to a bony knife which "runs me through"), to musically underpin and heighten the impact of the ideas expressed.

Tre Affetti Musicali
for flute and guitar (1989)

9 minutes

Composed in June 1989, Tre Affetti comprises three distinct "musical moods". The first is converational, and written in the style of a somewhat "up-tempo" fugue, while the second is longingly sentimental, and the third presents an exciting allegro which extends both players to the full. A feature of the third "mood" is the percussive effects demanded of the guitarist.

Trombone Concerto
for trombone and orchestra (1976, revised 1986)

Listen to an excerpt (307K MP3)

18 minutes

The Trombone Concerto was written in 1976 for Ian Hankey. It was a set work for the 1988 International Trombone Competition held in Brisbane, and was won by Warwick Tyrrell who subsequently recorded it for the ABC Classics label with the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra in 1990. The five movements alternate fast and slow tempos, calling on the trombone’s agility as well as breadth of line. The orchestration often presents an opaque texture, a mosaic of sound allowing the trombone to stand out in relief, and provide the central thread tying the music together.

Under Yaraandoo
for Didjeridu, Guitar and Percussion (1999)

Listen to an excerpt (166K MP3)

Under Yaraandoo is a set of five chamber pieces for didjeridu, guitar and percussion that acts as a kind of foil to Dance Gundah, affording the didjeridu the opportunity to interact on a more intimate level with the other instruments, especially the guitar. Nonetheless, as in Dance Gundah, I have striven to achieve a fusion of musical cultures. Whereas all ensemble members are present in pieces I, III and V, piece II is scored for didjeridu and guitar and piece IV for didjeridu and percussion. Although each piece enjoys an independent existence, it has a meaningful status as a member of the group. Whilst the first and fifth pieces exhibit fairly close musical ties, the second and fourth, although fully written out and of contrasting character, have in common an improvisatory feel. All four bear reference to the third. It is the focus of the group gathering the others around it, rather like members of a constellation, hence the use of Yaraandoo (Southern Cross) in the title. Distinguished from the others in mood and texture, it features a lyrical duet between guitar and vibraphone in its outer sections, while an ethereal dialogue between percussion and didjeridu in its central section brings to mind for me a sense of oneness with the Australian bush.

Viola Concerto
for viola and orchestra (1990)

27 minutes

Completed in September 1990, Bracanin’s Concerto for Viola and orchestra was commissioned by and dedicated to Patricia Pollett, who gave an outstanding premiere of the work with the Queensland Symphony Orchestra directed by Vanco Cavdarski. In commissioning the concerto, Patricia Pollett stressed the need for a genuine viola concerto rather than a violin concerto adapted for viola. Much material is therefore written for the C, G and D strings, and the slow cadenza of the first movement marked lusingando e espressivo capitalises on the potential warmth and soulfulness of this tessitura.

Cast in the traditional three movement fast, slow, fast design and conveying an essentially lyrical message, the concerto displays many individual features, both in the nature of the thematic process and the variety of accompanimental figurations. For instance, the first section of the slow movement comprises an extended thematic statement for viola accompanied by a veiled soundscape played by glockenspiel and vibraphone doubled by lower strings in harmonics and shrouded in a sustained halo supplied by the remaining strings. Meanwhile, movement and pulsation is added by the woodwinds to effect moments of climax.

Violin Concerto
for violin and orchestra (1983)

Listen to an excerpt (171K MP3)

23 minutes

Bracanin’s Violin Concerto was completed in April 1983 and dedicated to Dene Olding.

Compared with the Guitar Concerto the orchestral texture is a little fuller, sometimes approaching a late Romantic density of sound. The structured use of imitation of motives and themes is a feature of the first movement, as well as the style of its cadenza.

In the second, lento doloroso movement, the warmly expressive qualities of the violin are presented against a quiet, sustained backdrop. With a wistful and twisting melody Bracanin gradually leads the listener into the musical stratosphere – the melody’s climax had been intended an octave lower, but Olding’s playing in rehearsal convinced Bracanin to "strive for the stars". The movement shows an excellent match of moods between soloist and orchestra, partly because of the prominent role in the texture of the orchestral violins as well as the soloist.

The third-movement finale is one of Bracanin’s most motoric pieces of writing, with a perpetuo moto through the movement. There are no contrasting passages; the soloist dominates to the very end, which is lightly punctuated by sharp chords from the orchestra.

Windmills of Time
for string orchestra (2000)

Listen to an excerpt (347K MP3)

14 minutes

Commissioned by Roy Wales, Windmills of Time was premiered in St. John’s Smiths Square, London in November 2000. Composed in celebration of Roy Wales sixtieth birthday, it traverses a number of mood changes intended to capture the energy and enthusiasm of youth, the seeking out of life’s goals and the nostalgia of more mature reflection. It is cast in arch form with the opening sections returning in retrograde order such that the beginning and ending are conjoined in a cycle through time, as if driven along by that most natural of elements, wind.

© 2001 Philip Bracanin