Perils of Caffeine in the Evening

As you know, I’m semi-immersed in making music, however fitfully, playing my trumpet in a symphonic band and a swing band.  A few years ago, Betsy and I traveled to Atlanta to play and march with our bandmates in the Lesbian and Gay Band Association annual conference.  We played a number there that, years later, is indelibly in my head called October, composed by Eric Whitacre.  Here’s what I wrote about it:

Suddenly it’s October, my birth month, and there’s a bite in the air and a decidedly more severe angle to the sunlight, as if it’s beginning to ration itself, as opposed to its June - August profligacy.

In its honor, here’s one of the most gorgeous pieces I’ve ever played, Eric Whitacre’s October for concert band. This recording is from the 2013 LGBA (Lesbian Gay Band Association) concert that Betsy and I traveled to Atlanta to participate in.

It’s a tone poem, and ingeniously imparts the possibility of warm, brilliant days in October, while constantly reminding that it’s a month of inexorable attrition, decay and loss, as its mood swings from brilliant brass to minor-key woodwinds.

October - Eric Whitacre:
[audio:http://phil2bin.com/sounds/2013_LGBA/10_October.mp3]

Lately, I discovered that Whitacre had transcribed the same piece for choir, and it was otherworldly to hear it so re-invented.  I’ll still prefer my LGBA version because I can hear myself and Betsy, but it’s amazing to hear the same piece back at me so transformed: