This is a live performance with The President's Own Marine Band with Jason Fettig, conducting.

Program note:
My wife’s grandfather was an extraordinary man. He was an immigrant who walked around quoting poetry and whistling tunes from his childhood in Scotland. Like a character from a movie he always seemed to pull just the right verse for the occasion.

 
In the spring of 2007, he fell into a coma following a severe stroke. After weeks of being in this state he awoke and said: 

 
In mist or cloud…

 …on mast or shroud… 

…It perched for Vespers nine… 

…Whiles all the night… 

…through fog-smoke white, 

Glimmered the white moon-shine. 

 
These were the final words of a man who always chose the right words. Within the hour he was gone. 

 
Not recognizing the verse, I immediately ran to Google to decipher what message the old man could have been delivering.

 
The verse is from the famous poem of condemnation and redemption, “The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner”. The poem is the story of a mariner condemned to travel the earth telling his tale of hubris and punishment in search of redemption. The mariner shot an albatross for no other reason than he felt like it and then suffered the wrath of both death and living-death for his gall. 

 
The verse my wife’s grandfather quoted is the verse immediately before the one containing the ill-fated murder of the albatross. As they say, the calm before the coming storm. 

 
My work entitled, “It perched for Vespers nine,” on a surface level engages the imagery from the verse itself. But at the emotional core of the work is my trying to work out what my wife’s Pop Pop might have been trying to tell us about what awaits us “In mist or cloud”.

 
It perched for Vespers nine was commissioned by the American Bandmasters Association and the University of Florida. For performance materials or any additional questions please contact:

www.billholabmusic.com

Buy Studio Recording

It Perched For Vespers Nine (LIVE The President's Own Marine Band)

LIVE performance from historic Hill Auditorium in Ann Arbor. 

This performance features the McIver Quartet [Marjorie Bagley and Katherine McLin, violins, Scott Rawls, viola and Alexander Ezerman, cello] and the University of Michigan Symphony Band with Michael Haithcock, conducting.

Short Stories is a string quartet concerto commissioned by the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, The University of Michigan, The University of Texas, Northwestern University and the University of Colorado and dedicated to Kevin Geraldi.

Approximately 21 minutes long and scored for string quartet, winds and percussion.

View perusal score here: joelpuckett.com/Puckett_Short_Stories_perusal
Part I:

1.	Somewhere near the end [tutti]
2.	Introit [quartet]
3.	The Priests [viola and cello duet]

Part II:

4.	Recitative [quartet]
5.	mother and child [violin duet]

Part III:

6.	sonno agitato [ensemble alone]
7.	The Bridge [cadenza] [quartet]
8.	Ma Fin [tutti]

Program Note

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished;
that will be the beginning.”

— Louis L’Amour, Lonely on the Mountain

What makes the construct of the short story itself so unique among other literary devices is the demands placed on the author to create a meaningful narrative. They must describe the relationships between characters, present a conflict, and resolve it in a remarkably short span. It takes a deft writer to cleverly craft within these restrictions, and yet some have pushed the genre further by creating collections of stories that seem at first disparate, but eventually are revealed to be intertwined. Much like these painstakingly crafted works of literature, Joel Puckett’s Short Stories is a study in structure. On the surface, it bears the appearance of eight vignettes strung together into a concerto for solo string quartet and wind ensemble. Upon listening, however, the work’s movements reveal themselves as inextricably linked through a layered thematic language that plays out through a sort of “game of pairs.”

The external movements of the work serve as a frame story, not unlike Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Haunted, which the composer cites as an influential on the structure of the work. Between the external movements, Puckett presents three pairs of linked movements. Each of these sections highlights two of the solo voices, featured at the section’s conclusion with a virtuosic duo cadenza. The final internal grouping—the sixth and seventh movements—takes the independent duo cadenzas and superimposes them. It is only at this climactic moment that we hear that the concerto’s primary theme—the basis for both the first and last movements—is the combination of the elements within these cadenzas. In a sense, the entire work evolves from the constituent solo playing of its stars.

The opening—amusingly titled “Somewhere near the end”—introduces the notion of pairs in its own way. There is diametric conflict between both the soloists and the ensemble as, until the end of the movement, the two groups play almost exclusively in isolation. The harmonic language likewise poses friction, first hinting at the unbridled optimism of D major, and almost immediately thereafter shattering it with a tempestuous dissonance of extended harmonies in G minor. The effect is that of a series of dramatic wailings that set the stage for the players.

The first internal section, comprising the movements “Introit” and “The Priests,” is based on ancient liturgical materials. The introit itself is a part of the Proper of the Catholic mass, and this placid movement also presents a part of the Mass’ Ordinary by way of a “Kyrie,” passed from instrument to instrument in the movement’s center. The dramatic beginning of “The Priests” is a stark contrast with its bold chorale scored solely for brass and saxophones, and the rhythmic ostinato from the low strings (“Regina Coeli”: a reference to the antiphon to the Virgin Mary). Complex mixed meters dominate the pulse as a punchy homophonic accompaniment supports the vivid rhythms of the soloists.

The contrasting middle pairing (“Recitative” and “mother and child”) has a basis in Baroque opera, modeling a recitative and aria. “Recitative” serves mostly as an introduction, with a sparse accompaniment of vibraphone, celesta, and harp. The opening of “mother and child” expands the instrumentation to include the woodwinds and horns, dancing about gracefully with a patient, yet lilting tempo. This middle section is the longest single segment of the piece, and harmonically the most static, as it floats past slowly in a cloudy, dreamlike E-flat major. The gentle caress of the violin duet is both captivating and endearing throughout.

The tonal center of E-flat remains for the sixth movement, but little else is held as the pleasant dream of the middle section is roused by “sonno agitato”—literally, “restless sleep.” This movement, solely for the ripieno, harkens back to the most tumultuous moments of the first movement. The pulse quickens unrelentingly and the ensemble spills over, out of control, into “The Bridge,” a cadenza for the concertino. Here the previous duo cadenzas are pressed into conflict with each other in a manner that seems incompatible and dissonant. As the soloists play together, however, the argument between them is sated and they begin to find a synergy in their florid and virtuosic variations. The energetic realization of the work’s opening motive ushers in the ebullient “Ma Fin” (a nod to Machaut’s rondeau “Ma fin est mon commencement”—literally, “my beginning is my end”). This finale starts with a return to the first movement, but this time, the soloists come together as one and, with a battering of thirty-second notes, breaks through the restlessness of the ensemble and forces them back on track into the brilliant opening, finally moving together toward their happily ever afters.

—Jacob Wallace

Short Stories [string quartet concerto] UMICH LIVE

This is the Studio Recording of Asimov's Aviary by The Chief's Own United States Air Force Band (2013).

In 1974, Isaac Asimov [creator of the three laws of robotics and father of modern technology based science fiction] predicted in his short story, "That thou art mindful of them," that before humanoid androids would be accepted into mainstream society, robotic birds and insects would be created to desensitize the population.

While writing this piece, I frequently imagined Asimov dreaming of an aviary far in the future where robotic insects and birds were given life and flew around in constant electronic swarms.

Amazingly, this work has begun. At the Air Force Research Lab at Wright Patterson's "Micro-Aviary," these robotic insects and birds—or micro-drones, as the press has dubbed them—are being developed and put into the field as part of a whole host of projects including weather management and environmental monitoring.

However, as anyone who has read "I, Robot" or "The Naked Sun" will know, where there is potential for light in technological innovation, there is also the potential for darkness.

The piece features tightly woven canonic lines that form a furious web [swarm?] of contrapuntal activity over very slow moving [inevitable?] metallic drones.

Asimov's Aviary was commissioned by The United States Air Force Band "The Chief's Own" and is dedicated to the men and women at the Air Force Research Lab at Wright-Patterson and premiered at the 2012 Midwest Band and Orchestra Clinic.

For more information, please go to www.joelpuckett.com/asimov

Asimov's Aviary [USAF Official Recording]

Premiere of Joel Puckett's Concerto Duo (for solo flute, solo clarinet and orchestra)
Demarre McGill, flute
Anthony McGill, clarinet
Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestra Allen Tinkham, conducting
Recorded live at Orchestra Hall in Chicago on May 13, 2012

PROGRAM NOTE: As I began work on this concerto for the brilliant brothers, Anthony and Demarre McGill, my thoughts naturally turned to family and
childhood. To shared experiences and the joy of comradery and sibling rivalries. Although the entire piece is dedicated to the
brothers, the movements take their inspiration from, and their dedications are given to, three very special toddlers.
The first movement carries the title, “Great American Scream Machine.” Growing up in Atlanta, my folks used to take my sister and
me to Six Flags over Georgia every summer. That park features the world’s largest wooden rollercoaster, the Great American Scream
Machine. Even as a child, I knew in my heart that it was probably a terrible idea to build a rollercoaster out of wood and an even
worse idea to be proud of having the LARGEST one. Needless to say, this thing terrified me [and does to this day].
This movement is dedicated to Roya McAllister whose parents are my dear friends, Roshanne Etezady and Timothy McAllister. I first
came to know Roshanne’s music when we were in graduate school together. She wrote a fantastic piece about motorcycles [and life]
for the Albany Symphony’s Dogs of Desire project. I remember thinking, “That first measure is AWESOME!”
In December, Roshanne and Tim welcomed their daughter Roya to the world. I stole my memory of her first measure and created a
sketch version of what eventually became this movement as tribute to her and a testament to little Roya to make sure she knows how
cool her mom is. Roya, you are a lucky little girl!
If you have ever tried to put a toddler down for a nap, you will understand the sentiments behind the second movement. The image
of the soft lullaby gently and smoothly soothing children to sleep seems ridiculous in the face of my nightly reality! My daughter fights
sleep like a heavyweight prizefighter.
Our nighttime routine has become set in stone. I give her a bath, put her in her pajamas, and we read a book or two. And then we
come to my favorite portion of the routine: the lullabies. Doing my part, I sing her slow lullabies while rocking her and she does her
part, fighting the onset of sleep.
By far her favorite lullaby is the one my grandmother [Mama Dee] used to sing to me: “Sail Far Away, Sail Across the Sea, Only don’t
forget to Sail, back again to me.”
At least, I THOUGHT it was the one Mama Dee used to sing to me. I got curious about the rest of the verses and found that the
song was written in 1898 by Alice Riley and Jesse Gaynor and has only a passing resemblance to the song I remember Mama Dee
singing to me. Better yet, it has virtually no resemblance to the lullaby I had been singing to my daughter!
So this movement is both a journey of daddy trying to coax daughter to sleep and a journey of daughter enjoying the song, fighting
sleep and eventually succumbing to slumber.
I have had this material in my head, virtually nonstop, since the day my daughter was born. I first created a winds only version of this
“lullaby” as a gift for my daughter on her 1st birthday.
Following an extended introduction of the lullaby material by the soloists, you will hear the soloists take turns trying to coax the
toddler to sleep only to be interrupted by the little stomps of a very tired and stubborn [but very cute] little girl. Approximately two
thirds of the way through the movement a dramatic change over occurs where all involved [daddy and daughter] begin to succumb to
sleep.
As the haze overtakes daddy and daughter, the lullaby appears in four-part canon, with half the orchestra singing and half the
orchestra playing the lullaby then slowly dissolving into a sleepy A-flat major chord that is sung by the entire orchestra.
Happy birthday, little A!
The soloists emerge from this singing to begin the third movement by passing apeggiations back and forth, slowly picking up more
and more steam and launching into a sounds that are reminiscent of the cool breezes and sunshine of Southern California, which is
the birthplace of Audrey Simonds’s father. This movement is dedicated to the daughter of CYSO’s own general manager, Joshua
Simonds, who has been a sounding board and source of constant support throughout my time as CYSO’s composer-in-residence.
Audrey, your Dad is a very special person.
Concerto Duo is dedicated to the amazing brothers, Anthony and Demarre McGill and their parents. They are an inspiration and
fantastic models for how to live as an artist and, more importantly, as a human. I am humbled and grateful to have them turn their
attention to my notes.
Concerto Duo premiered on mother’s day 2012, in Chicago’s Orchestra Hall by the Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestra
with Anthony and Demarre McGill, soloists and Allen Tinkham, conducting.

Concerto Duo with Demarre and Anthony McGill [LIVE]

Joel Puckett's new work for winds, A Proper Goodbye in the premiere performance by Gerard Morris and the Puget Sound Wind Ensemble.

LIVE PERFORMANCE

Score can be found here: https://issuu.com/joelpuckettmusic/docs/puckett_a_proper_goodbye_v.1.2_4.15.2022

A Proper Goodbye Premiere (Live)

Fanfares For Friends For Gary San Jose State—Vickerman

Puckett—Ping, Pang, Pong (University of Michigan Symphony Band)

Live Premiere LSU Damon Talley conducting, Kimberly Sparr, soloist

W. S. Merwin's poetry has been a constant in my adult life. His words bring me comfort in times of anxiety, smiles in times of happiness, and comfort in times of grief. 2020-2021 brought difficult times for all of us, and I once again found myself turning to Merwin's words. 
 
I rarely know exactly what his poetry means, but I love how they make me feel. This was no different for the poem that inspired my viola concerto, I wake in the dark and remember. As I was writing, I rolled over the imagery in my mind: "wake in the dark and remember," "listening to the black hour," "you are asleep beside me while around us the trees full of night lean," etc. etc. These images are so vivid and clear yet they lack any strict narrative, so my imagination became free to run wild and see the sounds the words inspire.
 
The concerto is in two movements but played without a break. 
 
I wake in the dark and remember was commissioned by an international consortium of Universities led by Damon Talley and the Louisiana State University. It is dedicated with great admiration and gratitude to the extraordinary violist Kimberly Sparr, who gave the premiere.
 
Below is the W. S. Merwin poem that inspired this concerto. Please take a moment to read these words and listen to the sounds they provoke in your own imagination.
 
Rain Travel
I wake in the dark and remember
it is the morning when I must start
by myself on the journey
I lie listening to the black hour
before dawn and you are
still asleep beside me while
around us the trees full of night lean
hushed in their dream that bears
us up asleep and awake then I hear
drops falling one by one into
the sightless leaves and I
do not know when they began but
all at once there is no sound but rain
and the stream below us roaring
away into the rushing darkness

I Wake In The Dark And Remember (viola concerto)

From This Mourning by Joel Puckett. Find out more: www.joelpuckett.com

This Mourning Mov. 1 LUX

Tenor Nicholas Phan premieres Joel Puckett's There was a Child Went Forth with "The President's Own" Marine Band Chamber Orchestra live at Strathmore on April 30, 2023 with Jason Fettig conducting.

For more information https://joelpuckett.com/therewasachild/

There Was A Child Went Forth (Joel Puckett)

This recording features the amazing Marjorie Bagley as the soloist with the Casella Sinfonietta, Kevin Geraldi conducting. If you dig this, please consider checking out the whole album by click through via the "buy" button.

Program Note for Southern Comforts—
Home. I think about it constantly. I haven’t spent more than a week in the south in more than seven years and yet, I know it will always be home. Sometimes it’s a phone call from mom or a card from my sister. Sometimes it’s the faint smell of a dogwood or an Atlanta Braves box score in the paper. No, I haven’t really been there in years but I think about it daily.

In Southern Comfort's I am sharing some of the things that were important to me growing up in Atlanta or have become important in trying to remember home. Each movement is my representation of a memory or item from my childhood in the south.

Movement I. Faulkner

Often when I am feeling particularly nostalgic I like to pull out Sound and the Fury or As I Lay Dying. Faulkner’s descriptions of Mississippi and dysfunctional southern families always make me want to get on the first plane back home.

(There is no pause between movements 1 and 2.)

Movement II. Ritual: Football and The Lord
Sunday ritual: Breakfast, Sunday School, Service, Lunch, Football. (In the off-season: Golf)
From cradle to age 15, I can literally count on a single hand the number of times that I missed any part of this routine. And I tackled each part of the routine with equal seriousness. I still remember who Methuselah begot and every Sunday when the
prelude begins, I can smell the carpet at the now defunct First Christian Church in Collage Park, GA. (And I can also tell you who started at every position for the 1980 Falcons.)

Movement III. Lamentation
Lamentation is a traditional form that began in early baroque opera and is characterized by a mourning text and the so called “descending tetra–chord” which is a falling chromatic line that is usually treated as an ostinato. Egypt Puckett died May 5, and we
mourned her with equal parts emotion and, as is tradition, great restraint.

Movement IV. Mint Julep
I must admit this is a late affectation that I have developed. Before I left the south I had no idea what a mint julep was and didn’t give a hoot about some horse race over in Kentucky. But as time passes it seems that I look for reasons to feel nostalgic, so every
year around May 1, I can be found breaking out the mint leaves and the whiskey.

Buy the whole album

Southern Comforts [violin concerto]

This performance features The President's Own Marine Band conducted by Michelle Rakers with Karen Johnson and Chaerim Smith, violins, Sarah Hart, viola and Charlaine Prescott, cello.

LIVE performance recording from March 16, 2014 in Washington, DC.

Short Stories is a string quartet concerto commissioned by the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, The University of Michigan, The University of Texas, Northwestern University and the University of Colorado and dedicated to Kevin Geraldi.

Approximately 21 minutes long and scored for string quartet, winds and percussion.

View perusal score here: joelpuckett.com/Puckett_Short_Stories_perusal
Part I:

1.	Somewhere near the end [tutti]
2.	Introit [quartet]
3.	The Priests [viola and cello duet]

Part II: [Begins at 7:46]

4.	Recitative [quartet]
5.	mother and child [violin duet]

Part III: [Begins 15:53]

6.	sonno agitato [ensemble alone]
7.	The Bridge [cadenza] [quartet]
8.	Ma Fin [tutti]

Program Note

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished;
that will be the beginning.”

— Louis L’Amour, Lonely on the Mountain

What makes the construct of the short story itself so unique among other literary devices is the demands placed on the author to create a meaningful narrative. They must describe the relationships between characters, present a conflict, and resolve it in a remarkably short span. It takes a deft writer to cleverly craft within these restrictions, and yet some have pushed the genre further by creating collections of stories that seem at first disparate, but eventually are revealed to be intertwined. Much like these painstakingly crafted works of literature, Joel Puckett’s Short Stories is a study in structure. On the surface, it bears the appearance of eight vignettes strung together into a concerto for solo string quartet and wind ensemble. Upon listening, however, the work’s movements reveal themselves as inextricably linked through a layered thematic language that plays out through a sort of “game of pairs.”

The external movements of the work serve as a frame story, not unlike Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Haunted, which the composer cites as an influential on the structure of the work. Between the external movements, Puckett presents three pairs of linked movements. Each of these sections highlights two of the solo voices, featured at the section’s conclusion with a virtuosic duo cadenza. The final internal grouping—the sixth and seventh movements—takes the independent duo cadenzas and superimposes them. It is only at this climactic moment that we hear that the concerto’s primary theme—the basis for both the first and last movements—is the combination of the elements within these cadenzas. In a sense, the entire work evolves from the constituent solo playing of its stars.

The opening—amusingly titled “Somewhere near the end”—introduces the notion of pairs in its own way. There is diametric conflict between both the soloists and the ensemble as, until the end of the movement, the two groups play almost exclusively in isolation. The harmonic language likewise poses friction, first hinting at the unbridled optimism of D major, and almost immediately thereafter shattering it with a tempestuous dissonance of extended harmonies in G minor. The effect is that of a series of dramatic wailings that set the stage for the players.

The first internal section, comprising the movements “Introit” and “The Priests,” is based on ancient liturgical materials. The introit itself is a part of the Proper of the Catholic mass, and this placid movement also presents a part of the Mass’ Ordinary by way of a “Kyrie,” passed from instrument to instrument in the movement’s center. The dramatic beginning of “The Priests” is a stark contrast with its bold chorale scored solely for brass and saxophones, and the rhythmic ostinato from the low strings (“Regina Coeli”: a reference to the antiphon to the Virgin Mary). Complex mixed meters dominate the pulse as a punchy homophonic accompaniment supports the vivid rhythms of the soloists.

The contrasting middle pairing (“Recitative” and “mother and child”) has a basis in Baroque opera, modeling a recitative and aria. “Recitative” serves mostly as an introduction, with a sparse accompaniment of vibraphone, celesta, and harp. The opening of “mother and child” expands the instrumentation to include the woodwinds and horns, dancing about gracefully with a patient, yet lilting tempo. This middle section is the longest single segment of the piece, and harmonically the most static, as it floats past slowly in a cloudy, dreamlike E-flat major. The gentle caress of the violin duet is both captivating and endearing throughout.

The tonal center of E-flat remains for the sixth movement, but little else is held as the pleasant dream of the middle section is roused by “sonno agitato”—literally, “restless sleep.” This movement, solely for the ripieno, harkens back to the most tumultuous moments of the first movement. The pulse quickens unrelentingly and the ensemble spills over, out of control, into “The Bridge,” a cadenza for the concertino. Here the previous duo cadenzas are pressed into conflict with each other in a manner that seems incompatible and dissonant. As the soloists play together, however, the argument between them is sated and they begin to find a synergy in their florid and virtuosic variations. The energetic realization of the work’s opening motive ushers in the ebullient “Ma Fin” (a nod to Machaut’s rondeau “Ma fin est mon commencement”—literally, “my beginning is my end”). This finale starts with a return to the first movement, but this time, the soloists come together as one and, with a battering of thirty-second notes, breaks through the restlessness of the ensemble and forces them back on track into the brilliant opening, finally moving together toward their happily ever afters.

—Jacob Wallace

Joel Puckett's Short Stories [The President's Own Marine Band] LIVE

There Was a Child Went Forth is a setting of Walt Whitman’s poem of the same name for tenor and chamber orchestra. The text follows the everyday wanderings of a child as they notice and incorporate the world around them into their being. The music taps into a melancholic nostalgia for childhood, belonging—or not fully belonging—to a family, and the spirit of wanting to become an individual. 

The music’s contemplative and introspective mood refects the child’s journey of self-discovery and exploration in the poem. The orchestra provides a rich harmonic backdrop for the tenor’s voice, which soars above the textured accompaniment. throughout the piece, the melody is transformed through a series of variations, refecting the evolving nature of the child’s experiences.

There Was a Child Went Forth was commissioned by the President’s Own Marine Band and the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation to celebrate the 225th anniversary of the Band and is dedicated to Jason Fettig and Nicholas Phan. 

Through this piece, the listener is invited to join the child on their growth, discovery, and self-realization journey. This work was premiered on April 30, 2023 by Nicholas Phan at the Music Center at Strathmore with the President’s Own Marine Band Chamber Orchestra under the direction of Jason Fetig.

Aspire - "The President's Own" at 225 Vol. II

There Was a Child Went Forth; IV. The Village on the Highland

There Was a Child Went Forth; III. And His Parents

There Was a Child Went Forth; II. The Early Lilacs

There Was a Child Went Forth; I. There Was a Child

Live premiere of 15th Night of the Moon, a trumpet concerto by Joel Puckett. Craig Morris, trumpet; Gary Green, conductor; The Frost School of Music Wind Ensemble. Miami, Florida (USA) November 19th, 2014.

Program Note:
15th Night of the Moon:
In the past year, I’ve seen the reality of time begin close in on some of the people I hold most dear and as a result I’ve be forced to confront the cyclical nature of life. Joseph Campbell describes an appropriate Bronze Age concept in his lecture, “The Way of Art”:

“Out on the plains on the fifteenth night of the moon, at the time of sunset, looking to the west, you see the sun at a moment just resting right on the horizon. And if you look there to the east, the moon will be in the same position on the eastern horizon … And so this also is part of the mythology of the body: the body going through its inevitable course – the long body [from birth to death].” 

In this moment approximately halfway through one’s life, the body and mind are in balance; equal in their prowess. In the Bronze Age myths, this was considered to be around one’s 35th year. Typically in these myths, the protagonist goes through a transformational journey moving from one phase of life to another. They are reborn into, for lack of a better word, adulthood.

In his book, "The Way of the Animal Powers," Campbell describes a different transformational journey, this one as told by a !KUNG bushman:

"When people sing ... I enter the earth. I go in at a place like a place where people drink water. I travel a long way, very far. When I emerge, I am already climbing. I'm climbing threads, the threads that lie over there in the south. I climb one and leave it, then I climb another one. Then I leave it and climb another. . . . And when you arrive at God's place, you make yourself small. You have become small. You come in small to God's place. You do what you have to do there. Then you return to where everyone is, and you hide your face. You hide your face so you won't see anything. You come and come and come and finally you enter your body again. All the people who have stayed behind are waiting for you. … You enter, enter the earth, and you return to enter the skin of your body ... Then you begin to sing."


These two excepts strike me as related in that the mystical journey of the bushman seems to be a transformational experience much like the one described in the fifteenth night of the moon stories. An experience of change that provokes a profound realization of both the sadness and hope that come with the realization of a circular life.

In this concerto, cast into four connected movements, our soloist journeys deep within to find this transformation. Each movement is a projection of a line of text from the bushman’s description of his experience.

1. “When people sing … I enter the earth.”

2. “When you arrive at god’s place
You make yourself small.
You come in small to god’s place.
You do what you have to do there.”

3. “Then you return to where everyone is.” [cadenza]

4. “You enter the earth and you return to enter the skin of your body."

The movements are played without pause.

Photo Credit: (NASA/Bill Ingalls)

Puckett: 15th Night Of The Moon (Craig Morris, trumpet)

Puckett The Shadow Of Sirius  III. Into The Cloud

Puckett The Shadow Of Sirius  II. Eye Of Shadow

Puckett The Shadow Of Sirius  I. The Nomad Flute

This is a live performance with the Northwestern SWE with Travis Cross, conducting.

Have you ever had a feeling that something good was about to happen?  Perhaps just an inkling?  Have you ever met someone and known instantly that you were going to become thick as thieves? 

In the fall of 2005, I read Malcolm Gladwell’s book, Blink.  Blink is a book about rapid cognition.  The following is from Gladwell’s website:

	When you meet someone for the first time, or walk into a house you are thinking of buying, or read the first few sentences of a book, your mind takes about two seconds to jump to a series of conclusions. Well, "Blink" is a book about those two seconds, because I think those instant conclusions that we reach are really powerful and really important and, occasionally, really good.

I found this concept inspiring and led to the writing of my work for wind band by the same name.  My work features quick changes of both texture and tempo (blink!) while systematically exploring a single motive.  The boisterous opening of the piece rigorously works this motive (in both transparent and opaque ways) and climaxes in giving way to a surprisingly quite and ethereal ending.  


Blink was completed in January of  2006 for the Wind Ensembles of Shenandoah University and Abilene Christian University.


Blink [LIVE] Northwestern SWE

This recording is from the Albany Records release, "Pieces and Passages" by Scott Conklin. Playing on this track are Conklin and Alan Huckleberry.

Program note for Joel Puckett's Infinite Morning:
In my beginning is my end. (1940)- T.S. Eliot 
En ma fin est mon commencement. (1587)-Mary, Queen of Scots 
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning‚s end (ca. 150 AD)- Seneca 

I love beginnings. I don‚t know why, but it has always been for me that the first line of a book is far more satisfying than the last. I dive into these first lines filled with the hope that I might be reading something life changing or at least reading something old in a new and meaningful way. Full of hope, full of the endless promise that only a new day can bring. Unadulterated optimism for the cyclic renewal of morning. 

I sketched the opening of this piece while my wife and I were expecting our first child˜full of hope and the promise of that new day. Unfortunately, that pregnancy ended with a late miscarriage. That ending brought devastation and severe depression. This sudden turn from unbridled hope to mourning left us both unsure how to move on. This short piece is a meditation on those days.

Postscript: My wife and I have since welcomed two beautiful children into the world and it is partly through that first ending that we are able to fully appreciate these two new beginnings.

Puckett: Infinte Morning (violin and piano)

Prelude and Fugato from Mama Dee’s Notebook is a tribute to my grandmother, an extraordinary woman. Born the thirteenth child to a coal miner in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, she lived through the full force of the Great Depression. Despite the hardships of her upbringing, she earned multiple college degrees, her first being in music.
During the pandemic, as I sorted through some of her belongings, I discovered her harmony notebook from the spring of 1938. It was filled with routine theory exercises, but at the back were several short sketches, only a few measures long, labeled "atonal, March 1938." In those fragments, I glimpsed the workings of a fascinating musical mind. They reminded me of the times I’d heard her improvising organ preludes for her congregation— moments of pure, spontaneous creativity.

Inspired by those sketches, I crafted this Prelude and Fugato. The work draws from her ideas and evokes the rich, resonant sounds of a pipe organ, the kind that fills the space of a large church. As you listen, I hope you hear echoes of the music my Mama Dee might have composed had she pursued the life of a composer. 
Commissioned by World-Wide Concurrent Premieres and Commissioning Fund, Inc. this work is dedicated to Dr. Matthew McInturf.

Puckett Mama Dee Prelude and Fugato premiere SHSU McInturf

Prelude and Fugato from Mama Dee's Notebook

Commissioned by The Crossing, Donald Nally, conductor
made possible by the Dale Warland Singers Commission Award presented by Chorus America and funded by the American Composers Forum
[Animated Perusal Score here: http://issuu.com/joelpuckettmusic/docs/i_enter_the_earth_perusal_v.1.1]
I enter the earth was premiered by The Crossing on June 14, 2015 as part of their Month of Moderns Festival.
All text for I enter the earth was spoken by Kxao =Oah of northwestern Botswana in 1971, interpreted and translated by Marguerite Anne Biesele and then edited by Joel Puckett.

It is excerpted from "Folklore and ritual of !Kung hunter gatherers,” Ph.D. Dissertation Dept. of Anthropology, Harvard University©1975 Marguerite Anne Biesele (current pen name Megan Biesele) and used with permission.
Grateful acknowledgement is made to Dr. Biesele who has granted permission to set and reprint these words. She asks that anyone moved by them consider making a donation to:

The Kalahari Peoples Fund
PO Box 7855
University Station
Austin, TX 78713-7855
(512) 771-4097
When people sing ... I enter the earth. I go in at a place like a place where people drink water. I travel a long way, very far. When I emerge, I am already climbing. I climb threads. I climb one and leave it.
...
When you arrive at God's place, you make yourself small. ...
You do what you have to do there.
...
Then you return to where everyone is, and you hide your face. You hide your face so you won't see. ... And then you come and come and come and finally you enter your body again. All ... who have stayed behind are waiting for you. They fear you.
...
You enter, enter the earth, and you return to enter the skin of your body ... Then you ... sing.

I Enter The Earth [The Crossing, LIVE]

Commissioned by Lyric Fest. Premiere performance Dumbarton Concert Series, Washington, D.C. Nov. 2015. Lara Ward, piano and Jimmy Reece, tenor.

"Six years ago, a wife, whom I loved as no man ever loved before, ruptured a blood-vessel in singing. Her life was despaired of. I took leave of her forever & underwent all the agonies of her death. She recovered partially and I again hoped." —Published in 1903 Harrison, Life and Letters of Edgar Allan Poe [Vol. II, pp. 287-325]

1) Six Years [from The Greatest Evil, a song cycle on a letter by Edgar Allan Poe]

That secret from the river will premiere February 5th, 2016 at Northwestern University. Commissioned by Northwestern University in celebration of the completion of the Patrick G. and Shirley W. Ryan Center for the Musical Arts and is dedicated to Mallory Thompson and the members, past and present, of the Symphonic Wind Ensemble.

This is a teaser from the middle of the piece. Please join us for the premiere if you are anywhere near Evanston/Chicago. This group is amazing!!!

that secret from the river TEASER PREVIEW

Bonnie Puckett was my grandfather. He lived an amazingly diverse life: minor league baseball player, WWII veteran, preacher, college professor, chaplain, grandfather who gave me my first baseball glove and loved to have a catch.
As with so many of his generation, I never heard a word about his life in 1944 and what, if anything, specifically happened to give his post-war life such a focus on showing a quiet kindness to as many as possible.
Rest In Peace, Granddaddy
knells for bonnie (August 3, 2015) was commissioned for Sarah Frisof by the University of Kansas Wind
Ensemble and conductor, Paul W. Popiel.

Puckett—knells for bonnie (August 3, 2015) LIVE

Score and parts for purchase here: http://www.billholabmusic.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=103_132&products_id=2128

My son, Emory, has always loved the sound of the piano. From a very early age, he would become very excited anytime he heard one, particularly if what was being played was Beethoven or Chopin.

One day he heard the Chopin Barcarolle and Beethoven’s 5th symphony played back to back on the radio and once the Beethoven was finished he began screaming—as only a one and a half year old can—“AGAIN, AGAIN, AGAIN!” So I put on the Beethoven again and he screamed, “NO, AGAIN!” I tried starting the Beethoven again and he screamed [again], “NO AGAIN!” So then I tried putting on the Chopin. This worked until the Chopin finished and he began screaming again. Then I realized that he wanted BOTH the Chopin AND the Beethoven.

And so, I have given Emory his Barcarolle, littered with fragments from the first movement of Beethoven’s 5th.

The premiere was given on March 8th, with the composer conducting.
Emory’s Barcarolle is dedicated to the incomparable Cheryl Floyd in honor of her tireless dedication to changing and enriching young lives through music.

Emory’s Barcarolle was commissioned by the following consortium members in honor of the 33rd New York State Band Director’s Association Symposium and Honor Band: D’Addario & Company, Inc., Corporate Sponsor; Baldwin High School, Kimberly Roof and Scott Dunn, Conductors; Brockport Central High School, Shawn Halquist, Conductor; The Crane School of Music, Brian Doyle, Conductor; Fredonia High School, Andrew Bennett, Conductor; Guilderland High School, Lori Hershenhart, Instructional Administrator; Houghton College, Justin Davis, Conductor, Gary Stith, Conductor Emeritus; Monroe-Woodbury Middle School, Ryan Walther, Conductor; Nazareth College, Jared Chase, Conductor; Oyster Bay High School, Matthew Sisia, Conductor

Emory's Barcarolle [for band grade 3+]

Commissioned by the SEC Band Directors Association
I've always wanted to write an "easy piece" for winds that explored the kind of long lines and introspective expression I tend to work with in the majority of my music. When this commission came along, the partners and I were excited at the notion of creating something in that vein for the many great high school and middle school groups as well as for the second and third bands at the fabulous universities across the southeastern united states. 
It was with that in mind that wrote My Eyes are Full of Shadow.

"My eyes are full of shadow, and my part
Of life is yesterday."
—Edith Nesbit
I've always been a person prone to melancholy. My mother used to say that I had periods of sadness interrupted by periods where I was happy about being sad.
As an adult, I've learned to be contented in these low periods and in those moments I seek out the healing power of music and poetry. Edith Nesbit's "Age to Youth," from which this work's title is taken, describes looking back on a moment of pain in the past and an inability—an unwillingness?—to move beyond it.
Finding this poem brought me great joy in connecting to its sadness.
My Eyes Are Full of Shadow opens with an optimism of a new day but as the cadences are consistently left largely unfulfilled, we realize something is amiss.
Each attempted restart of the opening results in another aborted cadence and now they are frequently interrupted by a simple, sad chaconne. Reflecting the poem's insistence on living in the past, this interrupting chaconne grows more insistent and eventually gives way to a return to the opening but now colored by the assertions of the chaconne.
My Eyes are Full of Shadow was commissioned by the SEC Band Directors Association for its members.

This is a live performance from the Palmetto Concert Band with Cormac Cannon conducting.
Find out more at joelpuckett.com

My Eyes are Full of Shadow (Premiere)

RECORDED LIVE at Helzberg Hall, The Kauffman Center in Kansas City.
Northwestern University Symphonic Wind Ensemble—Mallory Thompson, conducting.

Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?
That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the 
current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the 
past nor the shadow of the future?
– Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha


This quotation serves as the inspiration and soul of Joel Puckett’s that secret from the river, which approaches the idea of the river from the abstraction of sound. The composer says of his creative process:
I have a very odd relationship with the past. I am constantly forced to confront past choices I've made in the form of the music I've written which I then experience in the present. When I hear music I've written, 
I am almost always overwhelmed by the feeling that I'm not actually the person who wrote it. And in a very real sense, I'm not; at least, not anymore. But when I hear it, I feel compelled to be grateful that the 
person who did write that music left the very best of himself in those notes and I go about my life trying to live up to them.

In a sense, the metaphor of Hesse’s river is applied to the life of any person. Can any of us exist outside of the perspective of the absolute present, and are we still the same person as we were in the past or will be in the future? 
With art, the common predilection is to observe the creator’s oeuvre through a synchronic lens, assuming all works are created by the same person fixed in time rather than to take into account the evolution not just of the artists’ craft, but also of the artists themselves. In that secret from the river, Puckett deals with this concept in a personally meaningful way through a lengthy study in motivic reference and thick, seemingly mystical harmonies.
The work as a whole is cast in two large sections: first, an exploration of pure harmonies that are made distorted and hazy through glissandi into sound masses, and second, a series of variants on a familiar harmonic motive. For much of the later portions of the piece, sections of the Hesse quotation are printed to accompany the score in a quasi-
programmatic fashion. These fragments, positioned out of order, further lend to the concept of universal existence outside of time presented by the quotation itself.

That secret from the river was commissioned by Northwestern University in celebration of the completion of the Patrick 
G. and Shirley W. Ryan Center for the Musical Arts and is dedicated to Mallory Thompson and the members, past and 
present, of the Symphonic Wind Ensemble.

that secret from the river (LIVE in KC)

The President's Own Marine Band performs Joel Puckett's Ping, Pang, Pong. Maj. Jason Fettig, conducting. View a score, listen to other performances and find rental information at www.joelpuckett.com/ping.html

Written for and Premiered by the University of Michigan Symphony Band, Michael Haithcock conducting.

Program Note: 
Puccini, celebrated perhaps only less than Verdi in the grand history of Italian opera, composed dramas that have held particular sentimental significance to listeners throughout the past century due to gripping (often tragic) Romantic tales underscored by lush, extravagant harmonies and orchestrations.  These operas, from La Boheme to Tosca have inspired countless musicians as well since their first performances, including young composer Joel Puckett, who first experienced them in a quite 
unique way:
“I’ve always loved opera overtures.  My first experience with these actually came via my father’s LPs from the 1950’s of the University of Michigan Symphony Band under the baton of Revelli.  Revelli was fond of performing these overtures in arrangements for his large wind symphony.  I remember many a time when my father would comment on how much better the overtures were ‘without all those darn strings!’” 

In celebrating Puccini and Revelli, Puckett essentially recreates his childhood listening experience through composing an entirely new piece.  Scored entirely for winds and percussion (with double bass and piano), Ping, Pang, Pong reflects that tradition of the Michigan Symphony Band while acting as a pseudo-replacement overture for Puccini’s last opera, Turandot.  As most opera overtures are composed by collecting the themes from the entire opera into one continuous work, Puckett likewise creates a tone poem that “summarizes” the operatic plot into a cohesive piece.  The story of Turandot, set in China, follows that any suitor who wishes the hand of the Princess Turandot must answer her three riddles or be put to death.  Turandot’s cold nature toward the idea of love has left her listless and vicious to any men – that is, until a young prince manages to answer the riddles.  The prince offers a riddle of his own to Turandot: if she can guess his name by sunrise, he will forfeit his right to marriage and be executed.  Turandot orders that no person in the kingdom shall sleep until the name of the prince is found, at which point the prince sings undoubtedly the most famous aria from the opera, “Nessun dorma.”  The twist apparent in Puckctt’s work is the perspective – the work takes the point of view of the three minor but well-meaning heroes: Ping, Pang and Pong, ministers to the Princess Turandot who attempt desperately to keep the young prince from being executed at her icy command.  In Ping, Pang, Pong, each of the ministers is introduced with their own section at the work’s opening followed by scenes of their involvement within the plot.  A Lament follows, snidely subtitled “Mrs. Turandot” followed by an Aria and Puckett’s own “Nessun dorma,” translated into English as “No One Sleeps.”  The final section of Ping, Pang, Pong reflects the opera’s finale and, so as not to spoil the ending of Puccini, ends brashly leaving the audience wondering whether the prince’s story ends happily or in tragedy.
—Program note by Jake Wallace 


Ping, Pang, Pong

Avelynn's Lullaby in a fantastic live performance by the LSU Wind Ensemble, Don McKinney, conducting.

Program Note:

Avelynn’s Lullaby was commissioned by a consortium of ten college and university band programs, with the lead commissioner being John Carnahan and the University of California State University, Long Beach. 
	
My daughter, Avelynn, arrived on a spring morning with a pep in her step. Since day one, she has had the energy of three babies (although, to be honest, I’m not sure how that is measured). Our nighttime routine has become set in stone. I give her a bath, put her in her pajamas, and we read a book or two. And then we come to my favorite portion of the routine: the lullabies. Doing my part, I sing her slow lullabies while rocking her, and she does her part, fighting the onset of sleep. By far her favorite lullaby is the one my mother used to sing to me: “Sail Far Away, Sail Across the Sea, Only don’t forget to Sail, back again to me.” At least, I thought it was the one my mother used to sing to me. I got curious about the rest of the verses and found that the piece was written in 1898 by Alice Riley and Jesse Gaynor and has only a passing resemblance to the song I remember my mother singing to me. Better yet, it has virtually no resemblance to the lullaby I had been singing to Avelynn! So, Avelynn’s Lullaby is both a journey of daddy trying to coax daughter to sleep and a journey of daughter enjoying the song, fighting sleep, and eventually succumbing to slumber.

More information about the piece [and other performance recordings] here:
http://joelpuckett.com/lullaby.html

* This material also appears in a different form in my double concerto for clarinet and flute, "Concerto Duo".


Avelynn's Lullaby (LSU)

My flute concerto, The Shadow of Sirius, in a fantastic live performance by the University of Texas Wind Ensemble, Jerry Junkin conducting and Marianne Gedigian, flute soloist.

Find out more: www.joelpuckett.com/shadow.html

[To buy a fantastic studio recording of this work, follow the itunes link.]

Program note: 
I have always found comfort in poetry. While in school, I was the guy with a collection of Bukowski under one arm and a collection 
of Yeats under the other. I have always enjoyed the rhythm of other people’s thoughts and feelings.

In the winter of 2009, my wife and I experienced a heartbreak that left me unsure of how to even breathe, let alone grieve. 
On March 1st, 2009, I found a copy of W.S. Merwin’s, The Shadow of Sirius, and I began to feel myself heal. I have almost no idea 
what most of this poetry means. But I know that it fills me with a profound sadness that is, at the same time, brimming with hope.
I recently heard Mr. Merwin discussing the origin of the title of his collection. He related that scientists have discovered that the star 
known as Sirius is actually a star system. What looks to our eye like a single object is actually many. Merwin found himself 
wondering what is on the other side of Sirus, lying in its shadow.
A friend once said to me, “many concerti explore a virtuosity of technique but not many explore a virtuosity of expression.” It was 
with that thought in mind that I began work on my, The Shadow of Sirius, for solo flute and wind orchestra.

Each movement offers my reflection on a single Merwin poem from the collection. Although the work is played without pause, the 
soloist plays unaccompanied solos to separates the individual movements. 

A consortium of American wind ensembles led by Michael Haithcock and the University of Michigan commissioned The Shadow of Sirius. The work is dedicated to the fantastic Amy Porter.

Grateful acknowledgment is made to the Copper Press, which has granted permission to reprint W.S. Merwin’s poetry. All poems 
Copyright 2008 by W.S. Merwin. More information about this poetry can be found at www.coppercanyonpress.com.

Buy UMICH recording

The Shadow of Sirius [UT Junkin and Gedigian, LIVE]

Joel Puckett is a composer leaving both audiences and the press buzzing. His music has been described as, “soaringly lyrical” (Minneapolis Star Tribune), “Puccini-esque” (Wall Street Journal), and “containing a density within a clarity, polyphony within the simple and – most importantly – beautiful and seemingly spiritual.” (Audiophile Audition). Parterre Box recently proclaimed, “Puckett should be a household name” and the Philadelphia Inquirer’s David Patrick Stearns mused, “if the name Joel Puckett isn’t etched into your brain, it should be.” In 2011 NPR Music listed him as one of the top 100 composers under 40 in the world.

Hailed as “visionary” (Washington Post) and “an astonishingly original voice” (Philadelphia Inquirer), his music is performed by the leading artists of our day and is consistently recognized by organizations such as the American Composers Forum, BMI, Chorus America, National Public Radio, and the American Bandmasters Association.

Puckett’s music attracts diverse performers and listeners through its emotional energy and commitment. Melding tradition with innovation, his distinctive style grows from his power to create transcendent experiences using charismatic musical language.

The Fix, a grand opera commissioned by Minnesota Opera, premiered in the March 2019 to packed houses, enthusiastic audiences, and largely effusve praise. With a libretto by Academy Award and Tony Award winner, Eric Simonson, the work depicts the rise and fall of the 1919 Chicago White Sox. It is a tragedy ripe with power, romance and redemption, set against the backdrop of America’s favorite pastime. Puckett’s earlier commissions have been premiered and performed worldwide, to exuberant critical acclaim.

His flute concerto, The Shadow of Sirius, premiered in 2010 and has received more than 200 performances and been recorded multiple times, including 2015’s Naxos Surround Sound disc, “Shadow of Sirius,” which received a 2016 Grammy Nomination. Currently the Chair of Music Theory, Ear Training, and Piano Skills at the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore, Puckett presents workshops nationwide and frequently serves as an adjudicator at competitions for rising composers. His music is represented worldwide by Bill Holab Music.

Joel Puckett

Pinned to spotlight

Popular tracks