Creston, Paul - Sonata for Eb alto saxophone and piano, Op.19
With vigor
With tranquility
With gaiety
Born Guiseppe Guttoveggio in 1906 to Italian immigrants, Paul Creston adopted his name partly from a nickname he received at High School, “Cress”, named after a character he portrayed in a play. Even from his early years, Creston showed a streak of indefatigable individualism, pursuing a wide range of studies with great enthusiasm. Perhaps it is because of this personality trait that Creston managed to work alongside the Second Viennese School, Minimalism and the Avant Garde and still emerge an original voice. Rhythm was central to Creston's musical aesthetic and he wrote two academic books on the subject. In one sense, Creston did have a penchant for the unusual, increasing the repertoire of often overlooked instruments such as the marimba, accordian and of course the saxophone.
The Sonata for Eb alto saxophone and piano, was written for the American virtuoso Cecil Leeson between 1937 and 1940 and has become a stalwart of the classical repertory. The three strikingly different movements are nonetheless held together by fragments of melodic material although always presented in a new harmonic template. Considering the autodidactic nature of Creston's education, the composer uses some particularly advanced harmonic concepts, including tritone substitutions, semitone approaches and minor 3rd access. Creston's treatment of upper extentions of chords is also very sophisticated and enhances the music at several points. As a result the music sounds exciting and slightly exotic, but maintains a strong sense of logical progression. Whether Creston was influenced by jazz or if his harmonic language was intuitive is unclear, although perhaps it was Guttoveggio's heritage that gave his music that Puccinian drama.
The first movement begins with a bold melodic statement from the saxophone, aided by interjections from the piano before developing into a sweeping line utilising a substantial range of the saxophone. This quickly gives way to the more lyrical second subject, supported by a slight slowing of the harmonic rhythm. An extensive development follows before a veiled recapitulation concludes the curtailed-sonata-form of this movement. By the end we have been introduced to the type of rhythmic displacement we will hear more of in the final movement. This movement is full of energy and is imbibed with an intensity that drives the music ever forwards.
In complete opposition to this, the second movement has a delicacy from the outset. Although in an irregular time signature, most of the time we are not aware of this because the melodic line is so well constructed, and of course the tempo is very slow. We hear the principal melody three times, each time transposed and once in a different harmonic context. Although tender, the movement does build to a substantial climax dynamically before subsiding. A highlight of this movement is the final phrase where the saxophone ascends melodically in a controlled diminuendo while descending triads in the piano provide a complimentary canvass.
The emotional intensity of the first two movements is broken by the lively final movement, which aside from a brief lyrical passage about halfway through has a pervasive mood of jollity. Despite it's lightness, the movement contains some complex rhythmic processes including displacement and hemiolas. There are also sections which imply a pseudo-clavé rhythm. Motivic use of the mordent utilises the embellishment not only as a decorative device but as a catalyst to bring cohesion to the movement. The final section of the piece is almost comical in its rate of modulations, but Creston restrains the music from degenerating into sonic farce.
With tranquility
With gaiety
Born Guiseppe Guttoveggio in 1906 to Italian immigrants, Paul Creston adopted his name partly from a nickname he received at High School, “Cress”, named after a character he portrayed in a play. Even from his early years, Creston showed a streak of indefatigable individualism, pursuing a wide range of studies with great enthusiasm. Perhaps it is because of this personality trait that Creston managed to work alongside the Second Viennese School, Minimalism and the Avant Garde and still emerge an original voice. Rhythm was central to Creston's musical aesthetic and he wrote two academic books on the subject. In one sense, Creston did have a penchant for the unusual, increasing the repertoire of often overlooked instruments such as the marimba, accordian and of course the saxophone.
The Sonata for Eb alto saxophone and piano, was written for the American virtuoso Cecil Leeson between 1937 and 1940 and has become a stalwart of the classical repertory. The three strikingly different movements are nonetheless held together by fragments of melodic material although always presented in a new harmonic template. Considering the autodidactic nature of Creston's education, the composer uses some particularly advanced harmonic concepts, including tritone substitutions, semitone approaches and minor 3rd access. Creston's treatment of upper extentions of chords is also very sophisticated and enhances the music at several points. As a result the music sounds exciting and slightly exotic, but maintains a strong sense of logical progression. Whether Creston was influenced by jazz or if his harmonic language was intuitive is unclear, although perhaps it was Guttoveggio's heritage that gave his music that Puccinian drama.
The first movement begins with a bold melodic statement from the saxophone, aided by interjections from the piano before developing into a sweeping line utilising a substantial range of the saxophone. This quickly gives way to the more lyrical second subject, supported by a slight slowing of the harmonic rhythm. An extensive development follows before a veiled recapitulation concludes the curtailed-sonata-form of this movement. By the end we have been introduced to the type of rhythmic displacement we will hear more of in the final movement. This movement is full of energy and is imbibed with an intensity that drives the music ever forwards.
In complete opposition to this, the second movement has a delicacy from the outset. Although in an irregular time signature, most of the time we are not aware of this because the melodic line is so well constructed, and of course the tempo is very slow. We hear the principal melody three times, each time transposed and once in a different harmonic context. Although tender, the movement does build to a substantial climax dynamically before subsiding. A highlight of this movement is the final phrase where the saxophone ascends melodically in a controlled diminuendo while descending triads in the piano provide a complimentary canvass.
The emotional intensity of the first two movements is broken by the lively final movement, which aside from a brief lyrical passage about halfway through has a pervasive mood of jollity. Despite it's lightness, the movement contains some complex rhythmic processes including displacement and hemiolas. There are also sections which imply a pseudo-clavé rhythm. Motivic use of the mordent utilises the embellishment not only as a decorative device but as a catalyst to bring cohesion to the movement. The final section of the piece is almost comical in its rate of modulations, but Creston restrains the music from degenerating into sonic farce.