Written for clarinet and soprano, this song is intended to be a meditative reflection on both the poet’s origins and how they are reflected in her daily life. A teacher of literature, Julie Ball spent many hours reading (and grading) the work of her high school students at the table she inherited from her grandmother. The clarinet weaves into and around the vocal line, sometimes finishing the melody, sometimes beginning it, sometimes offering counterpoint or harmony.

These three short movements are intended to be playable by any solo instrument. We have chosen Theresa Lams on soprano saxophone for this premiere. The first and third movement are more contemporary classical in nature, while the second movement is heavily influenced by jazz. The instrumentalist is asked to change their approach and timbre for each movement.

Julie Ball’s poetry is often inspired by nature and especially by the nature of the upper Midwest and the Great Lakes, as she grew up in northern Wisconsin and raised her children in Duluth, Minnesota. As an artist, I appreciate the idea of changing seasons as a metaphor for the cycles of history and of life. This cycle begins in January and ends the following winter. We follow the poet through a whole year of nature, while also reflecting on some personal events in her life. The composer has used a variety of techniques to reflect the various moments, including some extended techniques for the instrumentalists and some extremely difficult moments for the vocalist.

This song features a great deal of text-painting, or trying to mirror the meaning of the words within the music. 4nov2002 is written in a more traditional ABA form, with the thematic material of the opening returning toward the end. It is a gentle text, about the first snow over Lake Superior looking forward to a long Duluth winter.

For clarinet and piano, this piece was written for Theresa Lams. It is intended to be evocative and graceful, chromatically melodic and jovial. Like so many of my pieces, it’s somewhat traditionally structured, but not strictly adhering to traditional rules. Surreptitious is related to a song I wrote for high soprano (Queen Elizabeth’s Enlightenment, premiered by Alex Salas and Josh Quinn on the album A Horse With Wings), but in this case I allowed myself to give the clarinetist more instrumental gestures than in that song. Catachrestic, like Dance from the Miniatures, is heavily influenced by Jazz and requires a change of timbre from both instrumentalists.

This poem was written by my aunt (Julie Ball) in the week after my grandmother died. It deals specifically with the feeling of hollowness when someone you care about leaves this life. Suddenly the mundane things you used to do with that person take on this preciousness and meaning that one may or may not have noticed before. In this time of pandemic, with so many people dying, I wanted to write a song dedicated to those of us who have lost loved ones. It's especially difficult in this time because we're so isolated, which means a lot of people are dying (not necessarily of COVID) without the opportunity to say goodbye. I did try to keep the musical language of this piece as accessible as possible in order to allow it to speak to a wider range of people.

Julie Ball is my father’s sister and these three poems deal with the relationships between my father, his sisters, and their parents. The time comes in every child’s life when they find that they are no longer the child. The torch is passed. Adulthood looms. These poems and songs were written soon after the passing of my paternal grandmother, and while my paternal grandfather was transitioning into the later stages of life. The poetry is direct, unflinching in the face of major emotional upheaval, and I tried to allow the music to take a backseat in the first and third songs, providing a foundation but minimal commentary on the lyrics. The second song is acapella (without accompaniment) and not easy for the singer as it is relatively chromatic. I gave myself permission in this second song to do some text-painting, trying to convey with the music what my imagination perceived in the poetry.