Program Note
When I came to the Walden Young Musicians Program for my final year as a student in 2021, I told myself I was going to write a piece that was just for me. No pleasing the academia. No filling out a college portfolio so I could look good to a composition department somewhere. Just writing the music I wanted to write.
Of course, nobody writes alone, and nowhere is that more true than at Walden. They say that a good composer writes for people, not just hypothetical instruments; every year, I’ve had the gift of working with the amazing and unparalleled Walden School Players. Though the exact makeup changes from year to year, each member of the ensemble consistently carries the same passion and attention to detail for everything from a nine-year-old’s first piece for piano to the virtuosic contemporary literature they perform at their own concert. I’ve learned so much from all of them. I’ve never dedicated a piece of music before. I’m not totally sure why, but I figured it was about time. So this year, my last year, is also a year of firsts. This one is for you.
“Beyond the gates wide passages ran down to high halls and chambers far below that were hewn in living stone, so many and so great that that dwelling was named Menegroth, the Thousand Caves.”
After years of struggling with pages upon pages of names and lore, I finally managed to read the Silmarillion earlier this year. It was not an easy read for me by any means—with one exception. As soon as I read Beren and Lúthien, the tale took hold in my mind, twisting itself into grand designs for an orchestral tone poem, from which this piece emerged. I would consider Menegroth a chamber reduction of an excerpt if the rest of the piece existed . . . which it doesn’t. But that won’t stop me from subtitling this piece as such!
Beren, a human mortal, is brought before Lúthien’s parents, an elf king and a divine servant, to justify why he should be allowed to marry their daughter. Though unable to speak at first, he draws his courage to him and speaks passionately. But Thingol, Lúthien’s father, is having none of it. Unless . . .