All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary
Of a miracle too good to be true
All I know is that sometimes the truth is contrary
Everything in life you thought you knew
All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary
‘Cause sometimes the target is you
—Neil Peart, The Wreakers, (2012)
Fata Morgana (2014)
for Symphonic Brass Ensemble
Instrumentation: version for symphonic brass ensemble: 4 trumpets, 6 horns, 2 tenor trombones, 1 bass trombone, tuba, 2 percussion
Duration: 09:15
When the University of Texas at Austin's Symphony Orchestra programmed Nina C. Young's Fata Morgana for a concert in 2019, they perfectly matched it with Rachmaninov's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op. 43(!) and Debussy's La Mer. I'm sorry I missed that. I need to pay more attention to their performance calendar.
Of course, it was the orchestral version of Fata Morgana that was programmed. I'm a fan of the original orchestration, which I'll briefly discuss in this first blog entry for my summer listening project.
Nina C. Young, by her statement, is fascinated with the sound envelope of bells. It's a fascination that’s also shared by electronic musicians whose sound world is often defined by ADSR (attack, decay, sustain, release). Historically, composers have focused on MHRT (melody, harmony, rhythm, texture). If I could describe one element that represents my compositional activities it’s that I need to combine MHRT with ADSR. As an Irishman, I can't seem to let go of M, not that I want to.
Fata Morgana treats the brass family like a carillon, manipulating the ADSR of the horns with the sound envelope of pitched and non-pitched percussion instruments. Harmonies resolve in decaying sound. One of the unique performance techniques that brass players are called upon to do is to create "bell tones" where the player vigorously attacks a note and allows it to quickly drop off in volume while allowing the exhale to sustain the sound for a defined length of time. The sound-producing end of a brass instrument is called the "bell," and brass players become obsessive about bell sizes and the materials their instruments are made of because these parameters can affect tone quality and sound projection. Since I am a trumpet player by training, this fascination with attacks and decaying resolutions also pops up in my writing on occasion.
Naturally, I love Fata Morgana. Dr. Young has been exploring these ideas for a long time. Kolokal, a piece for two pianos and electronics, is another example that I particularly enjoy that the composer describes as "a study of traditional Russian Orthodox Church Bells."
There is a moment at the end of Fata Morgana that gets me every time. The mirage appears to resolve into a simple, clear vision (solo horn) only to be disturbed by the mirage's reality crashing down loudly and discordantly on the observer before everything comes to an end. It's a beautiful, chilling metaphor for so much these days.