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  • From One’s Pulse (2013) fixed media

    This is the final track from the album “A Topic Avoided” and lovingly steals from the last movement of Olivier Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time”.

    violin, cello, piano, electric bass, train whistle, field recording + processing

  • A Topic Avoided (2013) lp

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    This album is in memory of my grandfather Albert Sever. Each track is my own personal representation of a different approach to cope with his passing. Part notated ambience and part process derived descant, this is my best attempt at emulating the repercussions from losing a great man. 

    • track 1 - A Topic Avoided

      guitar, melodica, train whistle, electric bass, field recordings + processing

    • track 2 - The Brook
      handbell choir, recorders, melodica, piano, spoken word, field recordings + processing

      Based on the poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)
      Dedicated to Becky Reilly

    • track 3 - Crystal Liturgy
      clarinet, violin, cello, piano, field recordings + processing

      Between three and four in the morning, the awakening of birds: a solo blackbird or nightingale improvises, surrounded by a shimmer of sound, by a halo of trills lost very high in the trees. Transpose this onto a religious plane and you have the harmonious silence of Heaven. -Olivier Messiaen

    • track 4 - Heir's Landscape
      flute, viola, guitar, field recording + processing

    • track 5 - From One's Pulse
       
      This is the final track from the album “A Topic Avoided” and lovingly steals from the last movement of Olivier Messiaen’s “Quartet for the End of Time”.

      violin, cello, piano, electric bass, train whistle, field recording + processing

  • Crystal Liturgy (2013) fixed media

    clarinet, violin, cello, piano, field recordings + processing

    Between three and four in the morning, the awakening of birds: a solo blackbird or nightingale improvises, surrounded by a shimmer of sound, by a halo of trills lost very high in the trees. Transpose this onto a religious plane and you have the harmonious silence of Heaven. -Olivier Messiaen

  • Mist (2011) bassoon + track

    Score Available through Imagine Music Publishing

    IMS135

    Outside my San Francisco apartment window seemingly unrelated sounds fade and pan. Street traffic, parks, fog horns, rain, emergency sirens, pedestrians, freight ships; they all seem to create their own counterpoint. At first this resonates as an overwhelming cacophony without focus or purpose. Yet once heard with amenable contentment the variant sounds are given the chance to condense into accord. ”Mist” is a duet for bassoon and track where the solo instrument and prerecorded sounds are given equal importance. It has been written for and dedicated to Paula Brusky, the premiering bassoonist. 

     

     

  • En Los Bosques (2012) bassoon + track

    Accompaniment Track – Free Download

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    MP3 8.6MB: Track-En Los Bosques-Hovatter.mp3
    Large File 94.3MB: Track-En Los Bosques-Hovatter.wav

    Based on the poem by Pablo Neruda, “En Los Bosques” is a dialogue between a bassoon and prerecorded audio. The track to “En Los Bosques” is a mix of personally made recordings. Congos, djembe, ukelele, pipe organ, and field recordings made in Mt. Tamalpais California are mixed with the voice of my good friend and fellow composer Kevin Villalta. My deepest thanks go to Susan Nelson and the MidAmerican Center for Contemporary Music at the College of Musical Arts of Bowling Green State University for commissioning this work now published by Imagine Music Publishing.

    Score Available through Imagine Music Publishing

    IMS139

    Translation of Neruda’s text:
    Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
    and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips
    maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
    a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

    Something from far off it seemed
    deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
    a shout muffled by huge autumns,
    by the moist half open darkness of the leaves.

    Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
    sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
    climbed up through my conscious mind
    as if suddenly the roots I had left behind cried out to me,
    the land I had lost with my childhood and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
    -Pablo Neruda

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