Charles H Ruggiero

Soprano Sax

Chobim - Six Jazz Compositions in Honor of Frederic Chopin and Antonio Carlos Jobim, Versions for Soprano Saxophone, Bassoon and Piano and for Flute, Bassoon and Piano, 2011, rev. 2012 (Ruggiero Publishing Company)
Instrumentation, Program Notes

Chobim - Six Jazz Compositions in Honor of Frederic Chopin and Antonio Carlos Jobim, Versions for Soprano Saxophone, Bassoon and Piano and for Flute, Bassoon and Piano, 2011, rev. 2012 (Ruggiero Publishing Company)
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Instrumentation: S Sax (or Fl), Bsn, Pn

Duration: ca. 24 min.

Chobim - Six Jazz Compositions in Honor of Frederic Chopin and Antonio Carlos Jobim (2011, rev. 2012)

Dedication (see program notes)

Program Notes for the Soprano Saxophone, Bassoon, and Piano Version

I have enjoyed and been inspired by the music of Frederic Chopin and Antonio Carlos Jobim for more than 50 years. In the late 1950s, when I was first discovering the riches of classical music, I stumbled upon a performance of Chopin's "Heroic" Polonaise in A-flat Major by JosÃ© Iturbi that was included on an eclectic RCA Victor two-LP record album that my dad happened to bring home one day after work. In those days, it wasn't uncommon for department stores, grocery stores, and even gas stations to sell sampler albums at "giveaway prices" (for a couple of dollars, or less), presumably to get people interested in the catalogs of such leading record companies as RCA and Columbia. The RCA album containing Iturbi's "Heroic" performance, 60 Years of "Music America Loves Best," begins with Vest la giubba sung by Enrico Caruso and includes several other captivating performances, including Variations on Themes from "Carmen" played by Vladimir Horowitz, Sergei Rachmaninoff performing his Prelude in C-Sharp Minor, "Take the 'A' Train" played by the Duke Ellington band, a sizzling rendition of the Ritual Fire Dance by Artur Rubinstein, Mario Lana singing "Be My Love," Benny Goodman's classic recording of "And the Angles Sing," an NBC Symphony/Toscanini performance of the Prelude to Act III of Lohengrin, and much more! I remember playing the A-flat Polonaise over and over on my father's primitive record player, and I'm sure that Iturbi's passionate rendition of this piece, along with the other mysteriously powerful performances on the album, was an early factor that contributed to my decision to follow a career in music and to become a composer.

In the 1960s I bought and devoured an LP recording of the Chopin polonaises by Alexander Brailowsky, paying particular attention to the Polonaise in F-Sharp Minor, Op. 44. And years later, as an instructor of composition and music theory at Michigan State University, I would play and study some of Chopin's smaller works, particularly the preludes, mazurkas, and nocturnes, finding much to like and learn from.

I had heard some of Antonio Carlos Jobim's music before 1964, when the hit album Getz/Gilberto, which featured Jobim playing piano, was released in the United States, but I hadn't really paid much attention to it. Ever since Getz/Gilberto, my knowledge of and admiration for Jobim's creations has grown steadily. When I was active as a jazz performer, from time to time I would pick a Jobim piece to study, to try to better understand the unique elements of the composer's style. After studying "Insensatez" ("How Insensitive," is the English-language title), it became clear to me that some of Jobim's music is quite similar to some of Chopin's music. I sense both a musical (melodic and harmonic) and emotional connection between the music of these two masters.

With the 200th anniversary of Chopin's birth in 2010, which roughly coincided with the 50th anniversary of the "bossa nova craze" in America, I decided to write this composition in honor of these two wonderful composers, Chopin and Jobim.

In much of my music I synthesize ideas, techniques, and materials from Western classical compositions, avant-garde "art music" of the 20th century, and jazz. I've titled this work "six jazz compositions" because, more than in most of my other works from the past three decades, jazz elements are dominant in the six pieces of Chobim, making for a style that may be accurately characterized, I hope, as relatively accessible. But this is not to say that I intend for these pieces to be in a popular or "easy-listening" style. Jazz, unfortunately, is not at all a popular form of music today in any part of the world, and several of the six movements of Chobim are quite challenging for listeners (not to mention the challenges these pieces pose for performers!).

Although all six movements invoke the music of both composers, three movements (I, III, and V) are based specifically on pieces by Chopin:

Mvt. I. Dark Samba

Mvt. III. Bossa Nova Sentimental [Note: This is the Portuguese word, pronounced, approximately, sen-chee-men-tau.]

Mvt. V. Bossa Ã la Brubeck

The three even-numbered movements are particularly indebted to Jobim compositions:

Mvt. II. Nocturne-Etude - One Blue Note, Quietly (more or less)

Mvt. IV. Nocturne - Changing Topics: Jazz Conversations After Hours

Mvt. VI. Waltz - Three Souls in Perfect Time

Every movement of Chobim began, essentially, as an arrangement of the Chopin or Jobim composition that the movement is based upon. Each of these six "arrangements" then was used as a primary source of material (motivic ideas, rhythms, harmonies, textures, etc.) for each of the corresponding jazz compositions (i.e., movements) of Chobim. I used essentially the same compositional process for all six movements: the initial version of each movement evolved via hundreds (in several cases, thousands!) of developing drafts. In other words, I wrote at least several hundred different versions of each movement until I arrived at the fully evolved pieces included in the final score; consequently, in most (perhaps all) cases it is difficult to identify by ear (or even by studying the score) the Chopin or Jobim composition that provided the original seed of the movement. This is intended. While I hope that during performances traces of each movement's musical DNA will bubble up to the surface from time to time, I do not want the listener to hear these movements as arrangements, parodies, or variants of the Chopin and Jobim pieces, but rather as distinct and autonomous compositions with strong genetic links to the music of both composers.

Chobim, which was composed mostly during August of 2010, January and the last three months of 2011, and March of 2012, is dedicated to my very talented Michigan State University faculty colleagues, saxophonist Joseph Lulloff, bassoonist Michael Kroth, and pianist Deborah Moriarty. This work also is dedicated to my wife of 42 years, Pat, who I hope will enjoy these jazz pieces and forgive me for not always being the most enjoyable person to live with when I'm working intensely on a compositional project!

Charles Ruggiero - Mar. 16, 2012 (rev. June 1, 2012)

Additional Program Notes for the Flute, Bassoon, and Piano Version

Early on, before I had completed the first draft of any of the movements of Chobim, I decided to make two versions of the composition, the first for soprano saxophone, bassoon, and piano, and the second for flute with the same two other instruments. In these two versions of the work, the saxophone and flute parts are very similar except for a number of passages that are written an octave higher in the flute part and a few other differences intended to make each of the parts more idiomatic and effective. The bassoon and piano parts are virtually identical in both versions.

Throughout the periods when I was composing and revising this work, I kept in mind that the saxophone-flute part would have to work equally well for both instruments, and, happily, now that the composition is completed, I feel that that neither version of the part gives the impression that it has been adapted from the other. This is to say that I think of each version of Chobim as authentic and original, not as an arrangement of the other version.

The flute version of Chobim is dedicated to my son-in-law, the very talented Brazilian flutist, Danilo Mezzadri.

C. R. - Mar. 16, 2012

Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Large Chamber Ensemble, Boppish Blue Tinged, 2010 (Ruggiero Publishing Company)
Instrumentation, Program Notes

Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Large Chamber Ensemble, Boppish Blue Tinged, 2010 (Ruggiero Publishing Company)
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Instrumentation: One player per part: Fl, Ob, Bb Cl, T Sax (doubling Sop Sax), Bsn, Hrn, C Tpt, Trb, Tuba, Perc, Pn (doubling Cel), Harp, A Sax, Vln 1, Vln 2, Vla, Vlc, DB, Cond

Duration: ca. 19-20 min.

Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Large Chamber Ensemble - Boppish Blue Tinged (2009)

Dedicated to Joseph Lulloff and Raphael Jimenez

Program Notes

Boppish Blue Tinged

The title of this concerto, Boppish Blue Tinged, is meant to be suggestive rather than unambiguously descriptive. Tinged refers, in part, to trace influences from jazz and other twentieth-century American musical genres that may be heard throughout the concerto, but especially in the first movement. One of my goals for the chaconne-like opening movement is to create variable textures and composite rhythms that suggest some of those created by the inspired improvised interplay of the great jazz combos (like the piano-bass-drum trios lead by Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, Chick Corea, etc., and the quartets and quintets of Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Gerry Mulligan, Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, Gary Burton, and so many others.), but its not my intention for much of this composition to sound like traditional jazz or any other familiar style of music.

Although its not based on a blues form or harmonic progression, I hope the second movement, Blue, conveys the kinds of emotional meanings that often are such an important part of blues performances. If the attitude of the first movement morphs from something like confident energy to menacing force, then the blue mood of the second movement might be thought of as sorrowful or soulful or, perhaps more accurately, seeking solace and enlightenmentbut such linguistic translations of musical phenomena, I feel, always must be taken with a grain of salt.

Boppish, the last movement, like much of the music of the tragically self-destructive Charlie Parker and other troubled bebop masters, is intended to be infectiously animated and life affirming. Although little melodic or rhythmic material is shared among the different movements of Boppish Blue Tinged, and each movement is more-or-less complete in itself, the third movement is, nevertheless, intimately connected with the music and emotions of the previous two movements of the concerto. All three movements, in fact, are based on the same fundamental musical foundations and form a three-movement emotional arch.

To suggest some of the emotional meanings (a vague choice of words, to be sure) of this concerto, I have fashioned several questions for each movement.

Tinged: Tinged with what? Why does desire often lead to pain? Why do vitality and power sometimes overwhelm our better selves? Is the purpose of certain truth too often intolerance?

Blue: When and why do weeping for joy and weeping to wash away our pain meet?

Boppish: Why boppish? Why not the march or the hip-hop beat? Where (to what spiritual dimension or level of enlightenment) does the Parker train lead us? (March 3, 2010)

Dance Compulsions, for alto saxophone, piano, winds, and percussion, 2004
Samples, Instrumentation, Program Notes

Dance Compulsions, for alto saxophone, piano, winds, and percussion, 2004
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Samples:
Excerpt - Ruggiero's DANCE COMPULSIONS
From - AMERICAN'S MILLENNIUM TRIBUTE TO ADOLPHE SAX, Vol. XII
AUR CD
Joseph Lulloff, alto saxophone, Jun Okada, piano, MSU Wind Symphony, John Whitwell, conductor
(Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication is not permitted.)

Instrumentation: One player per part: Picc (doubling Fl), 2 Fl, A Fl (doubling Fl), 2 Ob, E Hrn, Eb Cl, 3 Bb Cl, B Cl, 2 Bsn, Cbn, 4 Sax (SATBari), 4 Bb Tpt, 4 Hrn, 2 Trb, B Trb, Euph,Tuba, A Sax (Solo), Pn (Solo), 5 Perc, cond

Duration: ca. 14:30 min.

Dance Compulsions - Concerto for Alto Saxophone, Piano, Winds, and Percussion (2004)

The instrumentation of the American "concert band" is not as standardized as that of the developed symphony orchestra. Rather than viewing this as a weakness, many composers and band conductors currently are enthusiastically exploring a full range of wind and percussion instrumentation possibilities. Today, a "band concert" at a major American university is likely to include music for small, uniquely configured chamber groups, works for massive symphonic ensembles, and compositions for bands that call for only one player per part. Dance Compulsions falls into the last of these three categories.

When John Whitwell, Director of Bands at Michigan State University, commissioned me to write a large work for the MSU Wind Symphony, he suggested that I write a concerto, but he gave me latitude to write for an ensemble consisting of virtually any combination of woodwind, brass, and percussion instruments. His only suggestion was that I consider writing for one player per part (that is, without the doubling of parts that is normal in performances of traditional band music). John Whitwell's concept of (or vision for) band literature is inclusive and adventuresome; consequently, during his tenure at Michigan State, he has commissioned a steady stream of works that runs the stylistic gamut. This concerto, Dance Compulsions, is my contribution to what might be termed the new flexible instrumentation and stylistic inclusiveness of American band music, a trend championed by conductors like John Whitwell.

My long and happy artistic association with Joseph Lulloff, who is both a friend and an MSU colleague, prompted me immediately to choose alto saxophone as one of the solo instruments for this concerto-Joe's technique, musical intelligence, and emotional depth have inspired me in the past to write some of my most successful music. When Joe and I first discussed this project, we quickly decided that the piece should feature both Joe and Jun Okada, the very talented pianist whom Joe and I have had the good fortune to work with for some two decades. John Whitwell was quick to endorse our plan.

Dance Compulsions attempts to cultivate the supercharged energy that Lulloff-Okada performances often have. It is a 14-minute, one-movement work that consists of a long chain of short dance-like episodes the duration and sequence of which are calculated to create a sense of logically increasing momentum and inevitability of form. Although there are no conscious musical quotations in Dance Compulsions, the piece borrows from a number of traditional styles of popular twentieth-century North American, South American, and Caribbean dance music. The listener might think of the solo instruments of the concerto as representing two dancers who have an insatiable appetite to dance, mostly together, but sometimes as solo dancers; their compulsion to dance being a sometimes joyous, sometimes sensual, sometimes spontaneous, sometimes calculated, and sometimes desperate affirmation of life. (January 2004)

Dig: JSB-1, for saxophone quartet (sop., alt., ten., bar.), 2003
Samples, Instrumentation, Program Notes

Dig: JSB-1, for saxophone quartet (sop., alt., ten., bar.), 2003
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Instrumentation: Sax Quartet (SATBari)

Duration: ca. 7:00 min.

Dig: JSB-1, A Transmogrification of the 4th Movement of J. S. Bach's Sonata in G Minor for Violin Solo - for Saxophone Quartet (2003)

Commissioned by the Capitol Quartet

David Lewis, Baritone Saxophone
Joe Lulloff, Soprano Saxophone
Anjan Shah, Alto Saxophone
David Stambler, Tenor Saxophone

Dig: JSB-1 for saxophone quartet, is about confluence and transmogrification (defined in one dictionary as: a changing "into a different shape or form, especially one that is fantastic or bizarre"). Dig plausibly could be called an arrangement of the last movement of Bach's solo violin sonata in G minor. However, instead of arrangement or transcription, I use the word transmogrification to categorize this work, because in the second half of Dig the degree to which I've changed Bach's music, and the aesthetic criteria I have employed in making those changes, transform the work, in my view. What starts as an arrangement ends as a composition. Consequently, this work explores relationships between tradition and innovation, translation and creation, presentation and origination.

The Capitol Quartet's ability to play different styles of music extremely well, their capacity for making rapid yet coherent stylistic transformations during their performances, and their dedication to bringing a wide variety of rich and challenging music to their audiences, is inspiring. Shortly after the quartet's delightful performance at Michigan State University in February of 2003, Anjan Shaw, the Capitol Quartet's alto saxophonist, invited me to write a piece for the group's upcoming CD. After attending their MSU performance and discussing the commission with Anjan, it became clear to me that a serious goal of the Capitol Quartet is to enrich the repertoire of the saxophone quartet in innovative ways. Furthermore, they are committed to fashioning recital programs and recording projects that will infuse the performance of music from the baroque and classical periods of European art music with a vitality that is, in part, borrowed from jazz. In the Capitol Quartet's performances and recordings one finds an appealing convergence of classical music, popular American music, and jazz, a convergence that resonates with me.

In the fall of 2002, before hearing the Capitol Quartet's MSU performance and before Anjan raised the possibility of me writing something for the quartet, I had thought about writing a saxophone quartet based on the last movement of Bach's Sonata in G Minor for Violin Solo, a piece that I had played on marimba when I was Vic Firth's student at the New England Conservatory in the 1960s. I had enjoyed playing the piece, and neither I nor my teacher had any qualms about playing it on marimba-after all, Bach himself had arranged a number of his works, including some for solo violin, for performance on other instruments!

One November or December morning, while listening to the local PBS FM radio station, I heard a recording of the Bach G-minor sonata and decided that I would enjoy turning it into a piece for saxophone quartet. I can't explain exactly why, but as I was listening to the broadcast, the piece seemed to beg to be "translated" into a saxophone quartet piece. However, being busy with other projects, I didn't begin writing the piece until after learning from Anjan that the Capitol Quartet was interested in doing a CD focusing on classical music, particularly the music of J. S. Bach, and that they wanted me to write something for the group. What a nice confluence of interests and opportunities!

The first part of the title of this composition, Dig, is a play on words. Everything in this piece is based, more or less, on Bach's violin sonata movement. Parts of the composition are little more than arrangements of chunks of Bach's solo violin music for saxophone quartet; however, in much of the quartet, Bach's melodic lines, rhythms, and implied harmonies are rearranged, deranged, displaced, elaborated upon, etc. I've transformed Bach's music in ways, some of which I hope are pleasantly unexpected, that reflect my interests in and experiences with jazz and twentieth-century European and American composition.

This kind of "borrowing" and metamorphosing has been done by many composers (Bach himself, Ives, Stravinsky, Berio, and many others), but some distinguished musicians have frowned upon the practice. Pierre Boulez, for example, in his essay "Bach's Moment," has characterized composers who have borrowed material from other composers as "grave robbers." I prefer to think of such borrowings as musical archaeology; hence my title Dig (as in archaeological dig). But since in this piece I'm attempting to transform Bach's violin piece, using, in part, jazz harmonies, instrumental techniques, and rhythmic concepts, the title also is intended to suggest that I "dig" (i.e., admire, like, respect, etc., in jazz parlance) Bach's music and would like, through the Capitol Quartet, to bring it to the attention of many performers and listeners who otherwise might not encounter it.

Dig: JSB-1 is dedicated to the memory of Theodore O. Johnson, who was my friend and colleague at Michigan State University for more than 30 years and who wrote two books on the music of J. S. Bach. (November 2003)

Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Orchestra, 1995, rev. 1999
Samples, Instrumentation, Program Notes

Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Orchestra, 1995, rev. 1999
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Samples:
Excerpt - Ruggiero's CONCERTO FOR SOPRANO SAXOPHONE AND ORCHESTRA, Mvt. 3, 'Time Shifts...'From - JOSEPH LULLOFF PLAYS THE SAXOPHONE MUSIC OF COLGRASS, DAHL, RUGGIERO
AUR CD 3099
Joseph Lulloff, soprano saxophone, MSU Symphony Orchestra, Leon Gregorian, conductor
(Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication is not permitted.)

Instrumentation: Picc (doubling Fl), 3 Fl, 2 Ob, E Hrn, Eb Cl, 2 Bb Cl, B Cl, 2 Bsn, Cbn, 4 Hrn, C Tpt, 2 Bb Tpt, 2 Trb, B Trb, Tuba, Timp, 3 Perc, Pn (doubling Cel), S Sax, 16-18 Vln 1, 14-16 Vln 2, 10-12 Vla, 10-12 Vlc, 8-10 DB, cond

Duration: ca. 21:30 min.

Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Orchestra (1995)

Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Orchestra is the culmination to date of my long creative association with the remarkable saxophone artist Joseph Lulloff, for whom I have written several chamber works, and with whom I have performed jazz on many occasions. It was Joe's "voice" as a saxophonist (especially the timbral qualities of his soprano saxophone playing), his prodigious technique, and his rich musicality that in no small part instigated this composition.

If a work of art cannot but reflect the time, place, and persona-not to mention the innermost self-of its creator, then what does this composition reflect? Certainly this concerto is an "American" product, not only because its composer is a native of the United States, but largely because it contains many intended stylistic references to various kinds of American music, especially to jazz. The study of this unique American musical idiom has been a preoccupation of mine for much of the past 40 years, and it is my intention to continue to try to find and develop in my compositions significant and subtle connections between jazz and other kinds of music that I am interested in.

Composers now, at the end of the twentieth century, have a rich legacy of music that has in one way or another combined jazz elements with non-jazz elements: the music of Ellington, Still, Gershwin, Copland, Bernstein, Nancarrow, Schuller, Coleman, Reich, and many others. For those of us who care about the art of jazz and who are compelled to explore new territory in our compositions, it is a bit daunting to think of all that already has been accomplished by such luminaries as Ellington, and all that, with decidedly mixed results, has been attempted by others.

Some attentive listeners may hear this concerto as teetering on the brink of atonality, or, viewed from the other side of the divide, tonality. This ambiguity is intended, and in no small part, I suppose, reflects some of the ambiguities and teeterings of my culture and my particular existence. Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Orchestra might be thought of as a latter-day third-stream work (perhaps "neo-third-stream" would pigeonhole it too succinctly!), but unlike such third-stream compositions as Gunther Schuller's Concertino for Jazz Quartet and Orchestra (1959), which combine small-group improvisational tonal jazz with composed post-World War II atonal orchestral techniques, this concerto, in part, attempts to integrate late-'50s "free-jazz" linear harmony (anti-harmony?) with an eclectic orchestral style that references mostly pre-World War II American and European music.

It could be argued that this concerto has a fairly conventional tonal structure: namely, in the simplest of terms, that it begins in E minor and ends in G major. There's something to this analytical distillation, but not much. While I was conceiving and developing this composition, it was rhythmic matters (including large-scale temporal relationships) that dominated my musings on the structural landscape of the work.

The title "ST*IT*T" derives from "stasis-interpolation-transformation," a formulation which describes the main formal process of the first of the concerto's four movements. After a brief introduction that presents certain fundamental motivic, harmonic, and timbral materials for the concerto, two "ideas" (i.e., linear-textural-gestural-harmonic building blocks), one primarily in the bassoons, piano, and low strings, the other in a "concertino" group consisting of soprano saxophone, piccolo, flute, and marimba, are each stated several times. These iterations create stasis at one structural level, even as they create motion on the "surface" of the music. Gradually, interpolated brass interjections break down the two "stasis ideas," leading to an extended interpolation, a cadenza for saxophone, brass and percussion instruments, flute, and clarinet. After this disintegration, the two stasis ideas (i.e., the bassoon-piano-low strings and concertino materials) return but are harmonically and timbrally transformed. Much of the momentum of this movement, ironically, is created by the cumulative effect of the repeating stasis ideas; for this effect to come off as intended, the stasis ideas must be performed with graceful and elegant precision.

"ST*IT*T," of course, also pays homage to the jazz saxophonist Sonny Stitt, who, like many bebop masters, used interpolation (quotations of popular tunes, personal motives and figures, themes from "classical" music, fragments of famous improvised solos, etc.) as a structural device in his improvisations, sometimes to break the tension, often in a humorous way, of an intense solo flight.

The second movement, "Antique Sentiments," uses suspensions, shifting and unexpected accents, and other rhythmic, textural, and harmonic devices to create a blur suggestive of the blurred emotions and memories of distant events. The harmony of this movement is highly chromatic but explicitly tonal throughout.

Perhaps the most subtle elements of classic jazz are "swing" (characteristic rhythmic inflections) and the complex layering of rhythms which occurs in almost all masterly jazz performances. All of the components, for example, of a standard jazz quartet performance (the soloist's improvised melodies, the "comping" in the piano or guitar, the "walking" bass line, and the "time" and rhythmic counterpoint expressed via the drum set), rely on the steady pulse of the composite rhythm-section part and the typically uniform meter and regular harmonic changes of the song or blues form which serves as a foundation for the music. In jazz performances at the highest level of artistry, what may at first glance seem to be a simplistic and well-worn format is actually an efficient springboard for an extremely variable and nuanced mix of improvised swing, syncopation, rubato, polyrhythm, and what might be called "time shifting"-a mix that is well perceived and fully appreciated by only the most experienced and astute listeners. Jazz rhythm, especially in jazz from the 1920s through the 1960s (and much music created since the 1960s which is closely related to classic jazz styles), reflects a uniquely urban American sense of time. Much of jazz rhythm echoes the complex bustle of activity experienced in many American cities and the speech rhythms and conversational pacing of urban Americans, especially of urban African Americans.

"Time Shifts-Remembrances," the last of the concerto's movements, attempts to develop, in an orchestral setting, something like the layering of rhythms referred to above. While the score of "Time Shifts-Remembrances" calls for no improvisation and no "swing" interpretation of written melodic lines by the soloist or orchestral players, various textures in the movement are developed in which the rhythms of some melodic lines are shifted ahead of or behind the prevailing meter in a way that may sound loose or even somewhat chaotic. This time shifting has an emotional parallel in the human psyche; the multitude of memories that we accumulate during our lives, many of which refer to strongly felt experiences, are recalled from time to time, in confusing, lucid, playful, ironic, orderly, random, pleasing or painful successions. These recollections sometimes overlap with each other, and one remembrance may dissolve into another. I view this as a kind of time shifting; a human ability that, among other things, may help us to cope with lost or keenly anticipated opportunities, triumphs and defeats of the past, and uncertainties of the future. (October 28, 1995)

Interplay, for soprano saxophone and piano, 1988 (Dorn Publications, Inc.)
Samples, Instrumentation, Program Notes

Interplay, for soprano saxophone and piano, 1988 (Dorn Publications, Inc.)
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Samples:
Excerpt - Ruggiero's INTERPLAY, Mvt. 1, 'Octaves'
From - INTERPLAY, Channel Crossing CD CCS 10497
Joseph Lulloff, soprano saxophone, Philip Hosford, piano
(Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication is not permitted.)

Instrumentation: S Sax, Pn

Duration: ca. 19:00 min.

Interplay - for Soprano Saxophone and Piano (1988)

This composition for soprano saxophone and piano was written during the period of July 1987 through April 1988 and was one of three works commissioned by saxophonists Joseph Lulloff, Allen Rippe, and Cynthia Sikes as part of a 1987-89 National Endowment for the Arts Consortium Commissioning Project sponsored by Tulane University. William Russo and Ralph Shapey, the two other composers who participated in the project, were commissioned to write compositions that feature the alto saxophone.

* * *

Interplay is in three movements: "Octaves," "Night Song," and "Departures." The title "Interplay" refers to the sometimes playful, sometimes combative, interactions that occur between the saxophone and piano parts throughout the composition, but especially in the work's outer movements.

In the first and second movements of Interplay two essentially distinct sets of musical materials are presented; in the third movement these two sets of materials are synthesized and transformed. The use, in the first two movements, of certain stylistic models and materials borrowed from modern jazz is confirmed in the final movement as it departs from its opening style and moves toward a blatantly boppish idiom.

"Octaves" is organized into seven main sections. Passages consisting of spun-out generative lines in octaves (i.e., with perfect octave or multiple-octave doublings between the saxophone and piano parts and between the two hands of the piano part) occur three times over the course of the movement and collectively serve as a source of materials for the movement's other sections.

Both perfect octaves and augmented octaves figure conspicuously in the melodic and harmonic palette of the first movement, and "Octaves" begins and ends with a juxtaposition of these two intervals. In the second and the sixth sections of the movement, perfect octaves are used prominently in the eighteenth-century derived accompaniment figures of the piano part. The classical keyboard style of these two sections serves as a foil to the volatile jazz "comping" that dominates the middle of the movement.

"Night Song" is an atmospheric "after-hours tune" in a harmonic style that is more explicitly tonal than that of "Octaves." Jazz-like pitch and timbre inflections, which for the most part are absent from the first movement, are introduced in "Night Song" and then are used more prominently in "Departures," the final movement of the work.

The form of "Departures" is the result of a process in which tempos, textures, repetitive figurations, harmonic progressions, etc. are established and then negated in ways so as to set up arrival points at new musical territories. "Departures" might be thought of as a voyage that ultimately takes the listener back to the two primary musical environments out of which were generated the materials of the first two movements: namely, the milieu of modern jazz (especially bop and bop-related jazz), and that of the neoclassic music of Igor Stravinsky. (June 6, 1989)

Three Blues for Saxophone Quartet, (sop., alt., ten., bar.), 1981 (Dorn Publications, Inc.)
Samples, Instrumentation, Program Notes

Three Blues for Saxophone Quartet, (sop., alt., ten., bar.), 1981 (Dorn Publications, Inc.)
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Samples:
Excerpt - Ruggiero's THREE BLUES FOR SAXOPHONE QUARTET, Mvt. 2, 'Delicately...'
From - AMERICAN'S MILLENNIUM TRIBUTE TO ADOLPHE SAX, Vol. V
AUR CD 3111
The Great Lakes Saxophone Quartet: James Forger, Donell Snyder, Joseph Lulloff, Eric Lau
(Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication is not permitted.)

Instrumentation: S Sax, A Sax, T Sax, Bari Sax

Duration: ca. 12:20 min.

Three Blues for Saxophone Quartet (1981)

Three Blues for Saxophone Quartet was composed in 1981 for James Forger and the Michigan State University Saxophone Quartet. Stylistic and formal elements from traditional jazz are pervasive in this work, but Three Blues is virtually devoid of improvisation except that the performers are expected, in much of the work, to play the given notes, rhythms, and dynamics in a style that sounds improvisational. A fine performance of Three Blues will capture the spirit of good jazz improvisation.

The structure of Three Blues is an arch form in three movements. The central movement is the longest and most complex of the three. After a brief introduction, the second movement begins with a "neo-bop" section featuring the alto and tenor saxophones. After the first statement of a short ritornello that punctuates the second movement, an extended contrapuntal passage leads to the apex of the arch for the entire composition, after which a variant of the "neo-bop" section ends the movement.

Both of the framing movements are shorter and lighter in style than the second. The first movement, marked "Charliechaplinesque," evokes the enthusiastic and lighthearted mood of some '20s and '30s jazz (although it uses the harmonic and rhythmic style of more modern jazz). Movement I is based on a repeated harmonic progression that is systematically shortened and then restored to its original length as the movement evolves. This progression is derived in part from the first two measures of the third movement (incidentally, these measures of the third movement contain the first ideas to be composed for the entire composition).

The last movement ("relaxed but not sloppy"!) caricatures, in a friendly way, some blues idioms that jazz enthusiasts will recognize easily. Two functions of this movement are to provide an architectonic balance to the first movement, and to develop some of the rhythmic ideas of the previous two movements. In this last movement, although the prevailing meter is 4/4, beats frequently get displaced, lengthened, or shortened by unexpected durations creating, it is hoped, a controlled elasticity of meter and tempo. The wellsprings of these rhythmic ideas are jazz and, to a lesser extent, the music of Igor Stravinsky. (1981; rev. in 2000)

Jazz Compositions and Arrangements, (ca. 75 works), 1965-2006