A week after finishing my "happy" concerto for two violins, I learned that both my mother and my brother-in-law had been rushed to hospital with life-threatening conditions. During this time my father's health also deteriorated noticeably. Within a few months, my mother had been moved to a nursing home, and my father and brother-in-law were dead.
Both these men liked strong, clear music. While neither would have enjoyed what I write, I had them in mind when choosing to write a concerto for trumpet — that strong, clear instrument.
I immersed myself in trumpet music — jazz as much as anything. It's probably obvious that the muted trumpet in my first movement was inspired by Miles Davis. He was great at expressing the kind of angry solitude that seemed appropriate to what I wanted to do. This first movement is named Bleak. Composers are taught that the core of the orchestra is the string section; it gives fullness and warmth to the sound. My first movement hardly uses the strings. Instead, winds form its core. Besides their obvious use in jazz, they provide a coolness which reinforces the bleak atmosphere.
Removing the mute, the soloist launches into a wake-the-dead movement named Gabriel. Now the percussionists are the core of the orchestra, firing rhythms across each other. What messages are being transmitted from the beyond? Some sound like Morse code (a notational idea I borrowed from Karlheinz Stockhausen). We catch glimpses of the trumpet sailing smoothly above the turbulence, accompanied by the harp.
Finally the strings enter the picture as a fresh force. They swallow up everything else, like the heavenly gates closing behind a gaggle of newcomers. Only the harp is left.
The trumpet reappears, now in a more intimate mood. Having survived the bleakness and the chaos, it has an older, wiser voice. The third movement is named Recitative & Aria. The strings give us some long-awaited warmth. The trumpet sings duets with the flute, and later a trio of trumpet, flute and alto trombone leads into a lullaby. As the movement ends, the trumpet says goodbye to its friends and is left alone with tolling bells (actually vibraphone) in what is some of my most heartfelt music.