The American composer George Rochberg is noted for having worked within, and made his own, the dominant classical styles of the 20th century, starting with the idioms of Bartók and Stravinsky and progressing through the serialism of Schoenberg and Webern. In search of a more universal language, Rochberg in the early 1960’s made a hard-won return to tonality, often including overt references to music of the past. He is also open to the influence of other cultures, as demonstrated in his Ukiyo-e series. The Japanese term refers to a traditional style of woodblock print that illustrates images not from the real world but from the mind. Of the title Between Two Worlds Rochberg wrote: "It suggests not only the realms of nature and cul-ture between which we find ourselves tenuously situated but also the strong . . . feelings experienced while living briefly in the strife-torn Middle East."

   Sigfrid Karg-Elert’s impoverished family wanted their son to become a schoolteacher, but he persistently composed in secret. At sixteen he was expelled from school when he was found composing during study hour, whereupon he fled to Leipzig, where his irrepressible talent found a warmer reception. On his way to becoming a virtuoso organist and pianist he also found time to practice flute, oboe, and clarinet. Borrowing a title made famous by Clementi, he composed sets of etudes for oboe and for flute entitled "Gradus ad Parnassum," or step to Parnassus - the mountaintop abode of the Greek gods. Mastery of each step brings us, presumably, a bit closer to the unattainable goal of perfection. Each of these ferociously concentrated little pieces (they vary in length from 40 seconds to a minute and a half) exploits some of the various aspects of technique and musicianship prevalent in the early twentieth century.

   Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach followed in the footsteps of his father Johann Sebastian in that he wrote effectively and prolifically for the flute. But he broke with his father, as sons often do, becoming a modernist fond of disrupting traditional norms - for example by placing the slow movement first in a three-movement piece. (More than one editor has "corrected" this idiosyncrasy by putting the slow movement in the middle.) He also em-braced the aesthetic of the empfindsamer Stil or sensible style - "sensible" in this case meaning perceptible to the mind – which sought to convey emotion as directly as possible to the mind of the listener through such compositional devices as sudden interruptions, interjections, and excursions to remote keys. Bach demands that the performers further heighten the musical expression through vivid contrasts in articulation and dynamics, and by rushing and dragging the tempo. As he wrote, "He who does not use these things or uses them at the wrong moment gives a bad performance."

   Philippe Gaubert created almost single-handedly a repertoire of sonatas, chamber works and shorter pieces that draw upon the revolution in flute playing initiated in 1893 by Debussy’s Afternoon of a Faun. The Sonatine is the last of Gaubert’s fifteen works for flute and piano. The second movement, dedicated to Robert Schumann, opens with a theme of Schumannesquely yearning chromaticism, followed by three variations and an extended coda. Both movements, with their wide variety of tempo and mood, convey the feeling of improvisational freedom and spontaneity suggested by the subtitle, "quasi fantasia."

   Ellen Bender’s Meditation, performed today for the first time, is dedicated to Fenwick Smith and Sally Pinkas. The composer provides the following note: "Many aspects of Meditation for flute and piano, including the length and number of movements, thematic material, use of rows, rhythms, and dynamics, are derived from the word Peace. Simultaneous organizations of musical elements climax in different movements: the third and middle movement is the longest; the fourth movement is the loudest (the preceding movements build up to this from piano, mezzo piano, and mezzo forte); and the last movement states the complete theme for the first time, beginning loud but becoming softer until reaching the piano dynamic of the first movement. The theme evolves from movement to movement, giving the piece a monothematic quality. Climaxing of different musical elements does not coincide because peace has yet to be achieved."

   Bohuslav Martinu’s mature style synthesizes an intriguing variety of influences. Among them are the music of his Czech compatriots Dvorák and Janácek; the Baroque concerto grosso style; jazz, which he encountered in Paris in the 1920"s and early 30"s; and the music of Debussy and Stravinsky.

   From Janácek he adopted the compositional method of using short, speech-based motives, and sequencing, varying, and extending them to build larger structures. The result, especially in faster movements, is something like looking through a collideascope: colorful, hard-edged fragments combine and recombine in mosaic-like patterns. Although one has the impression that Martinu may have been the only composer of consequence who set foot in Paris between the wars but failed to study with Nadia Boulanger, his music nonetheless embodies the virtues she espoused, and which seem to have been inherent in the musical milieu of that time and place: clarity of form, economy of means, and expression without sentimentality.

- Fenwick Smith