Summary: <br> I am aware – nay, more than aware – that this present post is an example of unconscionable conceit and vanity. Of this I stand justly accused; my head droops in shame and my present auto-flagellation will continue for minutes – perhaps for even the half-an-hour – to come.<br> <br> <br> <br> What, you rightly ask, could have prompted this pre-emptive outburst of self-loathing? (“Pre-emptive” in that having abused myself, it is my hope that you will feel no need to do so as well.) What has brought this on? Just this: I am dedicating this week’s “Music History Monday” to an event that at the time of this writing has not yet occurred and once having taken place – on Monday evening, April 8, 2019 – will almost certainly not qualify as “music history.”That event? The world premiere of my piano trio, <a href="https://robertgreenbergmusic.com/download/the-daughters-of-atlas/">The Daughters of Atlas</a> this evening in Berkeley, California.<br> <br> <br> <br> Talking about your own music is like talking about your children or, worse, your grandchildren: it is almost impossible to do so without becoming a soporific bore, inducing drooling paralysis in those within earshot. Nevertheless, I am asked constantly how I go about writing a piece of music. Since I know how fascinated I am by the stories of how other composers do their thing, I’ve decided – casting my ordinarily Marianas Trench-deep humility aside – to share with you the process that created The Daughters of Atlas (or “DOA” as I’ve been referring to the piece in private).<br> <br> <br> <br> <a href="https://d3fr1q02b1tb0i.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/08091704/triofoss.jpg"></a>Trio Foss, left to right: Hrabba Atladottir, Nina Flyer, Joseph Irrera<br> <br> <br> <br> At this point of my life, I prefer not to write a piece of music unless I have performers in mind. Duke Ellington’s famous line, to the effect that he couldn’t compose for someone unless he knew how that person played cards, is, for me, on the mark. I need to know something about the musicians I’m writing for: their personalities; their abilities; and in particular, what I perceive as their strengths. (Since we’re talking about professionals here, there are no such things as “weaknesses”.) DOA was written for a piano trio (that is, violin, cello, and piano) called Trio Foss. Trio Foss is a fairly new group; it made its concert debut in March of 2018. But there’s nothing new about the experienced pros who make up the trio: violinist Hrabba Atladottir; cellist Nina Flyer; and pianist Joseph Irrera. <br> <br> <br> <br> Miles Graber<br> <br> <br> <br> (Joe Irrera is currently having back problems, so he has been sidelined and replaced for now by Miles Graber, a Juilliard-trained pianist and family practice doc who has been a mainstay on the Bay Area music scene for decades.)<br> <br> <br> <br> I have heard violinist Hrabba Atladottir perform many times since she settled in the San Francisco Bay Area in 2008. She plays with fire (not with matches), passion and intense lyricism, which I showcased in particular in the central movement of DOA, a movement entitled “Siren’s Web: Calypso’s Song and Dance”.<br> <br> <br> <br> I’ve known cellist Nina Flyer for over 25 years. She has played scads of my music and she is a ROCK; yes: think a tall, elegant woman with the musical muscles of Duane “the Rock” Johnson and you’ve got Nina. Her cello makes a big, sweet sound and she is equally adept at providing rock steady support in the bass and playing singing, lyric solo lines in any register. There’s hardly a measure in DOA where I wasn’t thinking “Nina Flyer” when I put pencil to the cello part.<br> <br> <br> <br> Pianist Joseph Irrera is a formidable virtuoso, a fellow Steinway artist, so as I have an unfortunate tendency to do, I wrote a piano part the likes of which I wish I was able to play myself.<br> <br>
