Sebastian Kemner, Vincent Van Wijk, babblers. (Trombone, Oboe)

BaBbeLboX (2021)

(Re)arrangement of Mahler's "Der Schildwache Nachtlied" for ensemble.

Thomas Hampson, Baritone,
Klangforum Wien
Bas Wiegers, dir.

Konzerthaus, Vienna, 29th June, 2022. Live Recording.

"Ich kann und mag nicht fröhlich sein,
Wenn alle Leute schlafen,
So muß ich wachen,
Muß traurig sein."
"Liebe Knabe, du mußt nicht traurig sein,
Will deiner warten,
Im Rosengarten,
Im grünen Klee."
"Zum grünen Klee, da geh ich nicht,
zum Waffengarten
Voll Helleparten
Bin ich gestellt."
"Stehst du im Feld, so helf dir Gott!
An Gottes Segen
Ist alles gelegen,
Wer's glauben tut."
"Wers glauben tut, ist weit davon,
Er ist ein König,
Er ist ein Kaiser,
Er führt den Krieg."
Halt! Wer da? Rund! Bleib mir vom Leib!
Wer sang es hier? Wer sang zur Stund'?
Verlorne Feldwacht
Sang es um Mitternacht.
Mitternacht! Mitternacht! Feldwacht!
The sentinel's night song
English Translation © Richard Stokes

‘I can’t and won’t be cheerful,
When folk are asleep,
I must keep watch,
Must be sad’.
‘Dear boy, you must not be sad,
I’ll wait for you
In the rose-garden,
In the green clover.’
‘I cannot go to the green clover,
To the battle-field
Where halberds are thick
Is where I’m ordered.’
‘When you stand in battle, may God help you!
All depends
On God’s blessing,
For him with faith.’
‘He who has faith is far from here,
He is a king.
He is an emperor.
He wages war.’
Halt! Who goes there? Patrol! Keep away!
Who was singing here? Who sang just now?
A forlorn sentinel
Sang his song at midnight!
Midnight! Midnight! Sentinel!

Mahler - Der Schildwache Nachtlied, feat. Thomas Hampson (2022)

Arranged for Thomas Hampson and the Klangforum Wien, Bas Wiegers, cond. Live recording, Vienna, 29.6.2022

The storm and stress of life!
The curse of war and strife!
The harsh vindictiveness of men!
The cuts of sword and pen!
What needed to be borne - he bore!
What needed to be fought - he fought!
But in his soul, he stood them up as - naught!

And so he came from the prairie cabin to the Capitol,
One fair ideal led our chieftain on,
He built the rail pile as he built the State,
The conscience testing every stroke,
to make his deed the measure of the man…
So came our Captain with the mighty heart;
And when the step of earthquake shook the house,
Wrenching rafters from their ancient hold,
He held the ridge-pole up
and spiked again the rafters of the Home….
He held his place …
he held the long purpose like a growing tree
Held on thro’ blame and faltered not at praise,
And when he fell in whirlwind,
he went down as when a Kingly cedar green with boughs
goes down with a great shout, upon the hills!

From "Lincoln, the Great Commoner" - Edwin Markham

Lincoln, The Great Commoner (Charles Ives, arr. T. Grahl) Feat. Thomas Hampson

Written for ASKO|Schönberg Ensemble.
Ob, Cl, Tpt, Vla, Vc, Pno, Perc

We are dreamers, but dreams are what we breathe...

(Way) Over the Rainbow

With this work, I wanted to create a journey for the listener, similar to that of Saint-Exupéry in his novel Le Petit Prince.  In this case, where the novel's little protagonist departs from his own home (the asteroid supposedly believed to be B-612) visiting other asteroids with their own beings and ways of life, so too does the listener witness such a journey from 'home' (the recurring Intermezzi, an imaginary environment perhaps filled with small singing creatures, floating and spinning in little clouds of sound) to witness glimpses of other musics.

Despite what adventures we witness, the 'creatures' of the Intermezzi always return, continuing perhaps forever, seemingly indifferent to anything else, except their own way of life.  Such instances of unending and seemingly unaware life, like the Turritopsis Dohrnii, the so-called 'immortal' jellyfish, gently billowing for an eternity in the waters off the coast of Crete, I find truly terrifying.

The title comes from a reference to Schumann's Von fremden Ländern und Menschen - owing in part to the fact that I composed the piece almost entirely abroad - something very unusual for me.

International Ensemble Modern Academy, Elena Schwarz, conductor.



...From Curious Lands and Places (Karlsruhe performance, 27.09.14)

"Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?" –
"Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif?" –
"Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif."
                                from Goethe, Der Erlkönig, 1782


The so-called 'diminished seventh' chord has long fascinated composers.  In the Romantic era, this chord was particularly popular, with its 'wild-card' or 'shape-shifting' like behaviour, a symmetrical structure of perfect instability, with the ability to resolve to almost any chord.  Also interesting was the particular extra-musical association this chord came to represent: fear, anger, grief, discomfort, heartbreak, pain, etc. 

Nebelstreif adopts this chord as its main 'tonic'.  Rather like a soundscape of different sound-masses, the sole material used in the work consists of different permutations of the diminished seventh chord.  The particular emotion(s) that we associate with this chord, however, remain bound to the structure. The piece becomes therefore not only an exploration of sound, but also an exploration of a particular affect.   

The title comes from Goethe's poem Der Erlkönig where, in Schubert's setting, an almost naked diminished seventh chord serves a particularly important dramatic function at the end of the piece.

Dirk Luijmes, Organ (Verschueren, 3 manual)
Felipe Mora, André Ferreira, assistants. 

Recording date: November 13, 2014, Het Orgelpark, Amsterdam.

Nebelstreif (2014)

Written for the Ligeti Academy, 2010.

Written for the Ligeti Academy, 2010.
13 players: picc, fl, ob, cl, bs. cl, sop sax, hn, perc (x1), pno, hp, 2vlns, vla


Upon initial viewing of Rembrandt's famous, albeit, wonderfully corny "De Nachwacht", most visitors are curiously surprised to learn that the painting's peculiar shape owes to the fact that a considerable amount has been cut away from the original, so as to "properly fit" in its environment, when it was hung a few centuries ago. Even more surprising, numerous people have tried (and succeeded!) to attack the work with various acids, knives, etc., though no lasting damage was incurred. But what if it were, or what if more of the work were simply "cut away" to better accommodate a new location? People who don't know the original seem to spend time pondering in front of the massive work trying to figure out how much of the painting is missing, and what they can't see. It's this "cutting away" or "obscuring", in a sense, that interests me here. These issues of damage, alteration, eradication, obscuration, and of course, creation, were among those that seemed to recur to me as I wrote this piece. Since, to destroy the painting requires that the painting first exist, we have a balance: the act of destruction depends on creation, which, interestingly, is very much the operating principle of a palimpsest. This piece is akin to my own musical palimpsest, not only because I changed my mind so many times while writing, but certainly for other reasons, and is dedicated to my friends who performed it.



Palimpsestic Fancies (2010)

Olivier Latry plays an improvisation based on a 'theme' (I guess 'moment' would suit more here) from my piece "We are Dreamers".  Begins with an incipit of the 'real' theme, followed by the improvisation. Recorded February, 2015 in the Orgelpark. 
(Sauer Organ, 1922). 

Olivier Latry - Improvisation on a theme

Written in 2008 for my friend and colleague Alexandra Fol, this work was an investigation in using the organ as a vehicle to explore aspects of writing music in a large space, for a large instrument.  In the filter of such a large acoustic, the rapid interchanging figurations (especially the pulsations!), all blur into a non-discrete, yet identifiable soundmass. Given the fact that organs are very much 'spatial' instruments, like an orchestra, with groups of pipes grouped together by timbre, and further, by pitch (organs are frequently separated into two 'sides', each having 6 whole-tone pitches), the piece also becomes an exploration of illuminating a space with sound.
The form of the piece was inspired by a film which I had just seen at the time: Synecdoche, New York, (hence the graphic). 
One motive meets another, and they together form a new one, which in turn meets another and creates something new, and so on.  The ideas of this piece were further explored in Metaxa, from 2010.

Jan Hage, organ
Recording: April 17, 2015, het Orgelpark.
Sauer Organ (1922), with 3-manual digital console, equipped with a MIDI-driven setzer system.
Registrants Felipe Mora and Maarten Havinga


Music For Organ Solo

3ο Κουδούνι children's opera - projection demo track for the journey into Shapeless Land. Made of samples of the children.

Ταξίδι στην Χώρα των Άσχημων - Projection Demo - (2025)

A quiet oasis in a loud club - you slip away — to the toilet, for a cigarette — seeking space to breathe amidst the sweat and bass. Hidden from view, two trombones share a fragile dialogue built from natural overtones which sings clear, but is yet hesitant. Electronics shimmer, unsettled. Then — something shifts. In the second movement, hesitation explodes into joy, defiance, transformation. A riot of brass (or whatever you have lying around) bursts onto the stage, as if an alien ship has landed to beam up the fear and beam down pride. The electronics swell, swallowing doubt. It’s messy, loud, beautiful. It’s coming out. (2022/23)

Andrew McLeod, Sebastiaan Kemner, Trombones

DickPicDyptich (no. II - coming out) (2022)

The title refers to the bell of the trombone which, if viewed in the correct lighting conditions somehow resembles something like a golden event horizon snaking deep inside to an unknown dark area of compressed sound potential. It’s also a reference to the nebulous Golden Record, something which I discovered only this year, during the research phase of the piece. It’s very unique and encyclopedic contents of the variety of forms of life, cultures, and traditions that have flourished on this earth touched me deeply. Some of those recordings, (especially the Georgian Chakrulo with soloist Rostom Saginashvili) feature in the work. Most of the artists have all passed on, yet their musical voices still shine back on us, perhaps a bit like the phenomenon of starlight. Despite all this, the joyful, salutatory vocal transmissions also included on the disc struck a strange note, and I couldn’t help thinking our behaviour as a species reflects something like the spinning celestial bodies in the midst of which we find ourselves. Somehow, we humans spin in circles, too – similar greetings with the best of intentions have been uttered for millennia between many different culture-universes with many different outcomes. 

Piano (Andrea Vasi) Trombone (Sebastiaan Kemner). Fixed media.

The Glorious, Golden Hole (excerpts) 2024

Vivaldi’s musical depiction of the seasons, much like the actual seasons he probably knew, consist of unique moments in the passing of time with very delicate and precise architectures, patterns, cultural traditions or what have you, relying on an accordance of carefully balanced factors, musical or environmental. As this delicate balance radically changes, as we all know, the result follows. My piece is a re-imagining of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons perhaps if they, like the earth’s climate, had been subject to the progressive and radical differences in that architecture brought about by relatively recent human activity. You could say my piece doesn’t so much resemble a new single season per se, but reflects something akin to which we are progressivity acclimatizing - a chained-together series of semi- extreme weather events. For example, material that seems to sit in one place forever, sudden violent changes of direction, the feeling of winter during summer, material that blows backwards and forwards, an endless compression spiral, or an eddy of musical material that whirls faster and faster. To depict all of this, I chose to stay very close to Vivaldi’s musical language in order to give the audience the ability to feel distance – the distance between the climate Vivaldi knew and the climate we experience daily. The title refers to both an action that indicates an active taking of something by will, and also at the same time refers to something that becomes stiff, immobile, and stops functioning. 

Dutch Brew House, Lonneke van Straalen, solo violin 
Concertgebouw, October, 2024

Sieze (highlights) 2024

Performers from the University of California, San Diego. 

Sacred Emily (Excerpts) 2008

A deep, vivid, memory of something you have never experienced, yet, you’re certain of its legitimacy. Its content, often banal, intrudes on our thoughts during the the strangest and most unpredictable of times. A bowl of ice; a lamp burning out; the tail of a bird stuffed in your mouth; such memories, we can feel, are charged with…something.

And what about music? How often does a similar act of unintentional musical ‘graffiti’ occur in our own memories, and who is the perpetrator? Or are we ourselves the perpetrators, but its just that we remember incorrectly? Can we even ‘wrongly’ remember, or does our unconscious know better, veering toward something else that we can’t understand in the moment, leaving a trail of crumbs for us to follow, to somewhere? 

The first moment that came to me when setting out on this journey, was a huge dominant thirteenth chord, screaming and shuddering, slamming its way like a train into a scherzo, but weighted down, almost drowning and oversaturated with Pollock-like splashes of colour, the orchestra gradually building into a frenzy, then relaxing, maybe taking a bath, trying to clean itself, with singing whales in the tub. I don’t know when, where, or why this particular moment was born, or even what it means, but certainly, by making it and those like it manifest, surely I can gain even a partial understanding of something that’s underneath. 

The title also points to something else: a half-nod to the musically lush film soundscapes from the ‘50s and ‘60’s: undoubtedly subliminal sources of raw material containing moments which, though not explicitly perceived, bear an uncanny familiarity to something deeply felt.  

Live recording from the Doelen, Rotterdam with the Dutch Student Orchestra. Bas Wiegers, conductor, Lena Lefringhausen, solo violin.         


Screen Memories

Performance of Hussy by the Ereprijs, recorded September 2011 as part of Gaudeamus music week in Utrecht.  I prefer this performance :)

Hussy Gaudeamus 2011

Concerto to Percussion and Wind Symphony (2008). Written for Gina Ryan and the McGill Wind Symphony. Alain Cazes, conductor.

Concerto for Percussion and Wind Symphony

For some reason, not just if you're Canadian, (but it seems to help), we somehow get bitten by the 'north' bug. A sudden obsession or cogent curiousity to simply "go north". Sometimes this is borne out of curiousity. The expanse making up about 70% of our landmass, yet only 20% of our population stretches hundreds, even thousands of kilometers, standing in stark comparison with the busy and replete cities that I've mostly inhabited during my short life. Life up there is so different than what I know, or what I've ever experienced. There is also a painful history there, one of coercion and conformity, of habituation and hardening. It's also something I've never experienced first hand, but have lived, in a way, through literature. This piece reflects my yearning to 'go north'. It reflects something that is free, a system that has found its own way and can continue, and doesn't resist when a new system is introduced, changing the very structure of it's identity. A return to the old isn't possible, but could be garnered, surely, by looking forward as well as backward (that lovely Marshall McLuhan photo comes to mind). I was experimenting with 'new' aleatoric techniques I had discovered as a student from the scores of Lutosławski, and found that the application of these techniques for a large wind ensemble could adequately reflect my interest in huge shifting soundmasses, blizzards of cold icy sound, with heavy steely flakes of snow crashing about, or delicate diamond-ice textures, sparkling and gently shimmering. The title comes from at word in Inuktitut meaning 'sheltered, but with gusts of wind'.

Urquitaqtuq, for Large Wind Orchestra (2007)

2 performers with 'resobows', perc. solo (1 player) electronics

The Resobow, engineered and designed by Cooper Baker, is a small, wearable object using a system of induction and resonance to emit a signal, causing metal resonating objects to resonate, without the aid of mallets, or a bow. Sort of like an EBow but then for instruments without strings. Working together in UCSD in 2008, Cooper came up with the idea, and we decided to run with it. I ended up writing a piece for percussionist Brian Archinal, and two extra performers playing Cooper's Resobows, with Cooper doing electronics. The piece is based on three different motives, all which are slightly different from each other. As in Music for Organ Solo, a compositional tool was to explore the idea of letting these musics modulate each other; producing child-variations based on a combination of dfferent parent themes, and so forth. 

Cooper's patch took the constant 'screeeech' of the Resobows and modulated this according to what Brian was playing, how loud, and how fast. Certain spatialization decisions in Cooper's patch were also based on the ratios of the planets in orbit. 

Brian Archinal, percussion solo
Ian Power, Trevor Grahl, Resobows
Cooper Baker, Resobow conception and electronics

Splattering Resonance (2009)

Cavafy’s text speaks of loss but also remembrance, by listening with our memories to those absent voices which we can still hear in our mind’s ear. The soprano appears embedded in and surrounded by an emulsion of such voices in the orchestra. They are asking, sighing, groaning, calling out, pleading, uttering, or simply being. Among them, she is many characters at once: she appears as a narrator, a storyteller, recounting and communicating. However, she is also the embodiment of the heart of the text and her own voice becomes lost in a great centripetal sound-storm, laying to waste the fragile crystalline texture of the first moments of the piece. Emerging in a new form, she finishes her song which, almost like a benediction, gives birth to a new voice, sounding out its short life in the night, before it too, fades amongst those same voices in which she began.

Φωνές (Καβάφης)
Ιδανικές φωνές κι αγαπημένες
εκείνων που πεθάναν, ή εκείνων που είναι
για μας χαμένοι σαν τους πεθαμένους.

Κάποτε μες στα όνειρά μας ομιλούνε·
κάποτε μες στην σκέψι τες ακούει το μυαλό.

Και με τον ήχο των για μια στιγμή επιστρέφουν
ήχοι από την πρώτη ποίησι της ζωής μας —
σα μουσική, την νύχτα, μακρυνή, που σβύνει.
(Από τα Ποιήματα 1897-1933)

(Translation)

Ideal and dearly beloved voices
of those who are dead
or of those who are lost to us like the dead.
 
Sometimes they speak to us in our dreams;
sometimes in thought the mind hears them.
 
And with their sound returns for a moment
the sound of the first poetry of our live -
like music, at night, faraway, that fades.

RKST21, Clark Rundell, Conductor
Caroline Cartens, Soprano
Bart Leliveld, Accordion
Recorded February 25, 2018, Stadhuis, Apeldoorn.

Κάποτε

Of Ancient Days is a creation story, a slow building of a world in seven day-movements, interleaved with Bach's partita, Sei gegrüßet, forming the 'nights'. 

The new Utopa organ of the Orgelpark was used in two different ways for this concert: as an authentic Hildebrandt instrument (for the Bach) and, for my piece, with the digital console and technology developed by the Sinua firm of Dusseldorf. 

Live recording, November 23rd, 2018, Orgelpark 

Johan Luijmes, (Bach) Trevor Grahl, organists. 

Prelude: In the Beginning (Unda Maris)
(Bach) Chorale, Variation I
The First Day: Filament
(Bach)Variations II, III, IV
The Second Day: Echo Sphere
(Bach) Variations V, VI, VII
The Third Day: The Prolific Tale of Callithamnion Roseum (a Primordial Alga)
(Bach) Variation VIII, IX
The Fourth Day: Tourbillon des Etoiles
(Bach) Variation X
The Fifth Day: Au Fond des Bois...
(Bach)Variation XI
The Sixth Day: Ecce Homo

Of Ancient Days (2019) - Live Recording (Premiere)

Music for Hans-Ola Ericsson and Malmö's new organ of St. Petri's church. I made the map, and Hans-Ola took us on the journey, as it were. 

The console can not only control the new Klais organ (pictured here) but also the Marcussen from 1951, and both altar and echo organs. The entire building becomes an instrument, with the possibility acoustic surround sound. 

The new Klais organ is the manifestation of some dreams in organ making: among one of the most special is a dedicated harmonics division, with all pipes tuned justly to the overtone series, up to the 11th.

Music For Malmö (Hans-Ola Ericsson) 2019

Based on Zweig’s novella, Brennendes Geheimnis is a recollection-journey back to the time of childhood and all of the encompassing emotional states: naiveté, extreme innocence, the magic of the unknown, the excitement of play, yet also despair, fear of the dark, monsters in closets, and extreme unchecked anger. It’s a cross-section of the joys and pains of growing up, of transforming, of learning, and experiencing, of understanding human nature. We all know and have experienced the eponymous secret from the first page, but as we read, Zweig transforms us with his wizardry: we all become young Edgar and feel again the mysterious burn along with him. The secret here is represented in sound, a buzzing, vibrating, energetic sensation sounding from the back of the orchestra, standing at odds to its surrounding sound-world – a foreign strange sensation, yet with a certain curiosity and fascination inside. We only experience it for seconds at a time at first, as the music swerves and ramps around it, simply trying to ignore it, or avoid it, with all the energy, sudden mood changes, and tantrums of a youngster. But certain forces cannot be ignored: this mysterious sound swells and grows from within, until at last, it’s everywhere, unescapable, like a black hole. The yearning to experience the future turns back on itself and affects even the past. One of the most beautiful and heart rending moments in Zweig’s work is what happens during the last few pages: a curtain suddenly drops, and Edgar experiences this omnipresent buzzing dissonance as a part of a complex natural network, and in an instant, understands its nature. Rather than a work about the petulance and wanton paroxysms of children, Brennendes Geheimnis is about hopeful futures: a Bildungsroman in sound, celebrating both the joys and intense tensions of the unknown on the path to maturity, leaving the door open for a bright futures which all youth deserve.

Live Recording, Concertgebouw, Amsterdam, August 8, 2019
Jeugd Orkest Nederland, Jurjen Hempel, Conductor

Brennendes Geheimnis

Complete performance in Muziekgebouw aan 't IJ as a part of the "Evening of Today" concert.  Excellently performed by the wonderful Looptail ensemble, with a consort of offstage musicians from the Nieuw Ensemble for added surprise.  

Trauermarsch Szenen - "Evening of Today" Feb 28

Fl/picc - Cl/Bs Cl. - Electric guitar - Sampler -  Bass - Piano - Percussion

I have often been interested in the dramaturgical and narrative possibilities of musical forms: for me, the establishing and manipulation of a ‘situation’ in whatever form it takes, is one of the most meaningful things to me as a composer and a listener. In the last few years, I’ve been experimenting with trying to create musical identities, characters, and situations, sort of like musical ‘mise-en-scènes’ and the subsequent tensions and dramaturgical stages through which I strive to make them pass. With this piece, I turned my attention to how I could suggest a narrative structure over the course of eleven distinct miniatures, a form which I seldom use. Some elements recur over the course of the work, and some elements are specific only to one small movement. I realized that piece took the form of what was rather like a variety or cabaret show with a few recurring sideshow acts: the performative ‘showing-off’ of certain skills, strange mini-rituals, mimesis (the idea of a ‘cover’ in the pop music world), and even malfunction were all things that emerged in the piece.
In hindsight, after having finished, I realized that I was heavily influenced throughout the composition process by a performance of Michael Finnissy’s cabaret-trio “Bas & Koen & Nora” I had seen last spring. The curious and refreshing mix of musics, the theatricality of the performers and the musical and dramatic possibilities suggested by these elements sat, tucked away within me and appear to have emerged in their own way in this composition. Thus, it is to Michael Finnissy that I dedicate this work in much gratitude. 

Eleven Short Pieces for Icarus

Mechanical musical instruments have always fascinated me, especially mechanical organs with their vast repertoire of marches, gallops, foxtrots, cake-walks, waltzes, overtures, love songs, and even newly-commissioned pieces.  My piece, Pierement Parade (Dutch: Barrel Organ or Mechanical Organ Parade) is a tribute to such instruments, and their idiosyncrasies: their characteristic registrations (organ "orchestrations"), harmonic progressions, and of course, repertoire, with particular attention to the idea of the musical march in this case.  The sound-world of the piece is designed to reflect the clunky, the raw, and the hooting-fluty-reedy-shuddering voice with which these instruments so beautifully sing - a fact I found ironic during the process of composition as I strove to make a band of real instruments sound like their mimetic air-driven counterparts: an imitated imitation.

This piece is meant to be the first in a diptych of pieces dealing with marches.  The second, Trauermarsch Szenen (link below) should immediately follow Pierement Parade.  

https://soundcloud.com/trevorgrahl/trauermarsch-szenen-evening-of

Continuum Ensemble, Brian Current, Cond.

N.B. - The speed of two short sections in the middle has been increased by 10 BPM in this version of the recording.


Pierement Parade

Born in 1984, Trevor Grahl hails from the small town of Rankin, Ontario. His formal training began at McGill University, with teachers John Rea, Brian Cherney and Jean Lesage for composition, Sean Ferguson for electronic music, and Tom Plaunt for piano. Master’s studies took him to the University of California at San Diego, where he studied composition with Roger Reynolds, Philippe Manoury, Chinary Ung and Rand Steiger. On a grant from the Canada Council for the Arts, he undertook additional studies at the Conservatorium van Amsterdam, working with Richard Ayres.

Trevor’s music is characterised by referential layers, and often, the sound of other musics is an integral factor in his compositions. His works have been performed by groups across North America, Europe and China and by soloists including the trombonist Jörgen van Rijen and organists Hans-Ola Ericsson and Olivier Latry, and have appeared in many festivals including Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival, Gaudeamus Muziekweek and Gaudeamus Montréal. His double cello concerto Lightweight (based on Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being), composed for Asko|Schönberg and cellists Sebastiaan van Halsema and Lidy Blijdorp and premiered at the Cello Biennale Amsterdam in October 2022, was acclaimed by De Volkskrant for its dramaturgy, superb treatment of the soloists and sense of ‘joyful wonder’. Ephemerides, written for Quatuor Bozzini and Les Boréades de Montréal and inspired by Johannes Kepler’s Harmonice Mundi, was lauded for its daring invention and its cohesiveness with John Dowland’s Lachrimae Pavans, to which it serves as a companion piece. A recent collaboration with the baritone Thomas Hampson and Klangforum Wien, reimagining songs by Mahler and Charles Ives, led to performances in Vienna and Japan and received a five-star review in the Wiener Zeitung.

Trevor is a tireless advocate of the (hyper)organ, and in his function as the artistic assistant of Amsterdam’s Orgelpark has introduced countless composers and makers to its myriad creative possibilities. Trevor currently lives in Amsterdam and teaches composition at the Koninklijk Conservatorium in The Hague.

www.trevorgrahl.ca for more, and video links.

TrevorGrahl

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