Sun Trio (1995)
for violin, cello and piano

Duration: 44'15"
Duration of Sunset (Mvt. II): 8'00"
Instrumentation: violin, cello and piano
Written for Helen O'Brien on the occasion of her 98th Birhday

Winner of the First Annual Finger Lakes Chamber Ensemble New Music Competition (Sunset)

Premiere (Mvts. II and III): Aspen Music School and Festival, Center for Composition Studies, Harris Concert Hall, Aspen CO, August 11, 1995.

New York State Premiere (Mvt. II): Finger Lakes Chamber Ensemble, Lodi Historical Society Building, Lodi, NY, June 10, 2001.

Publisher: Robert Paterson Music (ASCAP)

Mvt. 1 (Full) [MP3] | Score Excerpt, Mvt. 1 [PDF]
Mvt. 2 (Full) [MP3] | Score Excerpt, Mvt. 2 [PDF]
Mvt. 3 (Full) [MP3] | Score Excerpt, Mvt. 3 [PDF]
Mvt. 4 (Full) [MP3] | Score Excerpt, Mvt. 4 [PDF]
Mvt. 5 (Full) [MP3] | Score Excerpt, Mvt. 5 [PDF]

Purchase Music for Sunset (Mvt. II). Other movements in preparation and currently unavailable.


Program Notes

The origin of the Sun Trio began when I first started the film score for Journey Into Courage. After writing opening music to the film, director Bess O'Brien and I eventually concluded that it was best to change some parts in order to properly compliment the film. The theme was kept, but some of the other sections were changed and/or edited. I never discarded the original version, even though much of it remained on the cutting room floor. Thankfully, it came to good use later. I decided to use it for something else.

During the winter of 1994-1995, I was given a little gratuity to write a trio in commemoration of the 98nd birthday of Helen O'Brien, Victoria's cheerful, amazing grandmother. Also, I recently had a craving to compose a piece for a “traditional” piano trio.

The Journey Into Courage recording is approximately fifteen minutes.  Since a commercial recording needs to last at least fourty-five minutes, this was my chance to write this five-movement work.

The first movement, Sun Day, begins with the theme from the Journey into Courage introduction. This movement is bold and stately: I wanted to evoke the feelings you get when summer, mid–day sun–beams shoot from between the clouds and warm your skin.

Writing the second movement, Sun Set, could have been difficult, until I looked out at Lake Champlain, and then at Victoria. I envisioned us embraced, doing a Tango–like dance under a multi–colored sunset (at times, to themes from Stravinsky’s L’Histoire Du Soldat). Victoria is a much better dancer than I. In this movement, she teaches me the steps. I fumble around and finally get it right. Then the sun sets.

The third movement, Absence of Sun, connects from beginning to end by one long melodic string. The Cello melody is modeled after a classical Indian Sitar raga, specifically the traditional, slow introductory section of a classical Indian composition. The bass piano part supplies the drone while a high-pitched serial row supplies a “starry night” texture. The starry night gradually melds into a wind chime accompaniment. The movement peaks in the middle with an intense cello line. At this point, the violin supports the cello intervallically. Each instrument (and in the case of the piano, each stave) represents a specific, individual texture. These textures are harmonious with each other, as well as individualistic. This movement intends to model a spontaneous performance, as if the players were improvising—without making mistakes. (Essentially, I am glorifying chance through conscious determinacy.)

Sunrise, the fourth movement is similar to Sunset. There is a “Sun” peak of an octave, a bright yellow ‘E’: this symbolizes the first, intense, bright sunbeam peaking over the horizon. In the middle of the movement, a string of rising chords mimics a “fast-forward” of the sun rising in the sky. Later in the movement, the Violin & Cello play decelerated bird motives. I wrote the bird songs down on the morning of April 17, 1995, while watching the sun rise behind the University of Vermont music building. I use the “mystic chord” by Alexander Skryabin as melodic and chordal material for the anticipation of the rising of the sun. While I was waiting for the sun to rise, I watched the mountains intensely. I finally was about to give up, thinking that the sun tricked me and rose behind some clouds when I wasn’t looking. As soon as I turned around to walk away, I felt an intense heat hit the back of my neck. I turned around and there it was! The sun was there, in all of its glory and splendor, lighting up the mountains. As well as allusions to a sunrise, I also use themes from the previous four movements in this movement.

The short and sprightly Sun Dance is a closure movement written to provide a vibrant contrast to the other four movements. The initial piano motive is from Five Movements for string quartet by Anton Webern. I use this line in a non-serial context. The first section introduces the themes, motives and patterns which will be used in the subsequent sections. The second and fourth sections are percussive, while the third section is more placid and melodic. The “finale” section is hard and driving, utilizing both snap pizzicati (plucking the string so it bounces against the fingerboard) and loud four-note chords in the strings.

– Robert Paterson



Program Notes for Sunset (Mvt. II) Only

Although Sunset is part of a larger work I wrote called Sun Trio, I think this movement can also stand on its own as an individual piece. This work was written in Burlington, Vermont, where I lived for two years with my wife Victoria. Sunset is strongly inspired by the beautiful pastel-hued sunsets I often witnessed out across Lake Champlain through our living room window and while taking bike rides and walks around the lake.

Sunset is in an arch form, with the beginning material cycling back at the end. Arcs also appear throughout the work as ascending and descending phrases in the piano part. The cyclical nature of this piece reflects both the expansive view of a slightly earth-curved, panoramic sunset, and in a more abstract sense, the dad-to-day rise and fall of the sun.

This work begins with a gentle vision of a colorful sky as the sun is setting. In the middle of the piece, I imagine me and Victoria embracing and attempting a Tango-like dance under this multi–colored sunset (at times, to themes from Stravinsky’s Tango in L’Histoire Du Soldat). Victoria is a much better dancer than I am, and during the middle of this piece, she patiently teaches me the steps. I fumble around and finally get it right, and then the sun finally sets.

Sunset is most likely one of the saddest pieces I have written. In an abstract sense, I view this work and sunsets in general as a metaphor for dying or reaching the end of one’s life.

– Robert Paterson