American Horn

A brief presentation by DMG

First, welcome!

It has been a journey to get to this point. Thank you for being here, thank you to everyone who has been involved in my getting here, and I hope that we're able to pass a few brief moments together sharing this space, and this experience which is crucial in this part of the journey.

My program, gently titled "American Horn," could have had any number of titles or themes. I certainly went through several to arrive here. Ultimately, every selection on this program I have either written, arranged, or transcribed to be for the horn. The music of Amy Beach excites me, and provides wonderful material that I believe can effectively and compellingly compensate for the dearth of readily-available music specifically for horn by American women composers in the early 20th century. Michael Hennagin was an American educator and composer, and his work came to me by way of Dr. Heidi Lucas as a duet for horn and trombone. A thriving spirit of curiosity and exploration have led me back to free improvisation trails in the past year, and I've met some amazing musicians that are brave and bold enough to make a sound and then explore it in the moment.

Another theme that I've explored in this program is one of nighttime, of imminent darkness, and of the power of dreams. Many years ago, this is exactly where I dreamt of being. Performance spaces feel like home. The shared, fleeting situationality of live performance and shared experience holds a unifying power that is heady and captivating. If we only get this moment, then it matters how we spend it. The simple act of pausing to experience and appreciate existence together has an absolutely inarticulable power, and I hope that you feel some small piece of that intention tonight. From the starting solo horn, to music written for a Salon-type setting and springing from that tradition (the Beach and Hennagin, as well as a partial inspiration for my own works), to Puccini's work at the end featuring a horn choir I've been so privileged to work with the past few years declaiming that "No one sleeps!" this program represents an ideal of hope and an exploration of community. Unlike programs past, I will spare you the journey through each piece via my words. Instead, I will include the texts for the poems around which some of these works are based, and leave the actual moment to us.

Be well. Stay safe. You are loved.

Dalton

Program

Unclouded Dreams from Triptych for Horn - Dalton M. Guin
Three Browning Songs, Op. 44 - Amy Beach
Three Emily Dickinson Songs - Michael Hennagin
Trio for Horn and Two Bass Clarinets - Dalton M. Guin
Dream Improvisations with Dalton M. Guin, Rachael Keplin, and Erin Higgins
“Nessun Dorma” from Turandot - Giacomo Puccini, arr. DM Guin

Robert Browning (1812-1889)

The Year's at the Spring 
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn:
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!

Ah, Love, but a day
Ah, Love, but a day,
And the world has changed!
The sun’s away,
And the bird estranged;
The wind has dropped,
And the sky’s deranged;
Summer has stopped.
Look in my eyes!
Wilt thou change too?
Should I fear surprise?
Shall I find aught new
In the old and dear,
In the good and true,
With the changing year?
Thou art a man,
But I am thy love.
For the lake, its swan;
For the dell, its dove;
And for thee — (oh, haste!)
Me, to bend above,
Me, to hold embraced.

I Send My Heart Up To Thee
I send my heart up to thee, all my heart
In this my singing,
For the stars help me, and the sea, and the sea bears part;
The very night is clinging
Closer to Venice’ streets to leave on space
Above me, whence thy face
May light my joyous heart to thee, to thee its dwelling place.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Heart, we will forget him!
Heart, we will forget him!
You an I, tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you're lagging.
I may remember him!

The World—feels Dusty
The World—feels Dusty
When We stop to Die—
We want the Dew—then—
Honors—taste dry—

Flags—vex a Dying face—
But the least Fan
Stirred by a friend’s Hand—
Cools—like the Rain—

Mine be the Ministry
When they Thirst comes—
And Hybla Balms—
Dews of Thessaly, to fetch—

“Nessun Dorma” from Giacomo Puccini’s Turandot
Giuseppe Adami (1878 - 1946) and Renato Simoni (1875 - 1952)
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!
Tu pure, o Principessa
Nella tua fredda stanza
Guardi le stelle che tremano
D’amore e di speranza!

Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me
Il nome mio nessun saprà!
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò
Quando la luce splenderà!

Ed il mio bacio scioglierà
Il silenzio che ti fa mia!

(ll nome suo nessun saprà
E noi dovrem, ahimè! Morir! Morir!)

Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle! All’alba vincerò!
Vincerò! Vincerò!