duration: c. 10:30

Trio 1: Fl (+alto fl)/ Ob (or Sop. Sax) / Cl in Bb
Trio 2: Fl (+ picc)/ Ob (or Sop. Sax) / Cl in Bb
Quartet: 2Vn / Va / Vc

Program Note:

In late May 2018 my wife and I took a road trip from Indianapolis to Mesa Verde National Park in southwest Colorado. I was enamored with the sweeping, picturesque cliffs and plains of the southwest. The wind was ever-present, an integral part of the landscape. I vividly recall standing at the highest point of Mesa Verde, powerful gusts of wind swirling around me as I looked out for miles across the plain more than 1,000 feet below. This rushing wind, in tandem with the immense beauty and scale of the landscape gave me an overwhelming sense that Mesa Verde is a living, breathing entity. It is ancient, yet constantly changing. The mesa feels timeless, yet it is vulnerable to the influences of its environment. In the fall of 2018, I wrote a brief sketch about the experience, but looming deadlines for some other projects forced me to set the sketch aside. I finally had time to return to the Mesa Verde Sketch in early 2020. I wrote a little less than half of a piece before the pandemic arrived, but as society shut down, so did my will to write. I left the Mesa Verde piece abandoned for a second time. 

Like so many, quarantine took a severe toll on my mental health. I often thought longingly of my time at Mesa Verde during this time. The memory became symbolic, but it was not just about my love of the place. When I felt trapped in my house, trapped by my own mind, Mesa Verde was a symbol of happier times, and of the sense of freedom that comes from traveling across the country on an open road. I eagerly returned to the Mesa Verde piece at the beginning of 2021, but after working for a few weeks I realized that I had changed too much, and my relationship with the memory of Mesa Verde had changed too much to complete the piece in an honest way. Frustrated, I decided to throw out everything I had written in 2020 – return to the original sketch – and start over. This fresh start would become Cliffs that Draw Breath.

Cliffs that Draw Breath is scored for two antiphonal woodwind trios positioned on either side of a string quartet. The woodwind trios depict wind by rapidly exchanging motivic fragments, building gestures that echo and swirl around the listener. The string quartet often serves as a foundation, occasionally building swirling, echoing textures of their own. The music is both a depiction of my memory of Mesa Verde, and a reflection of the symbol the place has become for me. Cliffs that Draw Breath is a celebration of Mesa Verde, and it is a way for me to express gratitude to it for helping to sustain me through dark days. Most importantly the piece is a reminder that places like Mesa Verde must be preserved, and that preservation is a choice we must continually make and maintain from generation to generation.