When I fall ill in the process of composing a new work, motives, themes, & progressions cycle though my head repetitively as I lie in bed tossing and turning, struggling to fall asleep. Delirium is my musical telling of what I experience through the night; Fevers, Restlessness, Delusions, Intoxications, and finally (Un)Consciousness.
A two-note motif, a major and/or minor second apart, can be heard through all five movements, representing the “Delirium Motif.” This motive symbolizes the music that taunts me as I yearn for sleep.
Delirium is Montoya’s first work for saxophone and is written for and dedicated to the Spectrum Saxophone Quartet: Jon YuhaszPratt, Jordan Van Hemert, Cassandra McKindles, & Alexandrea Surinck.
Living in Texas my whole life, I had never experienced a true winter. In fact, I don’t think I actually had experienced all four seasons! For in Texas, it always seemed to be summer, with short interruptions of cooler weather. There had been a few occasions where it had snowed, but it rarely stuck to the ground, and if it did, it was gone in a matter of hours.
In 2008 I moved to Michigan to pursue my Master’s Degree. On one particular day, as the snow fell, I remember contacting friends and family and exclaiming, “The snow is so big!” I never thought that snow came in different sizes, or fell at different speeds. As I began to write this adagio, I wanted to capture the feelings and excitement of the first snowfall.
I reflected on the nighttime when all was quiet and still. Suddenly the first snowflake appears. Slowly more snowflakes begin to fall as the speed increases. The bells toll at midnight as the snow gradually accumulates on the ground, turning the color from dark hues, to a soft white. Then, as if it cannot be contained any longer, snow fills the heavens as the wind carries it through the sky and to the ground, covering the earth with its white blanket.
As the sun begins to rise above the horizon, the snowfall begins to dissipate. The intensity dies down, as small flakes fall slowly and blow listlessly in the wind. The sunlight grows brighter, and presents the snow; smooth and untouched.
That is, until the world awakens…
Midnight Snowfall was written for symphonic winds in 2008 and was transcribed for orchestra in 2012 and is dedicated to Jenn.
Solo Mar, 2+pic.2.2+bcl.2.–4.3.2+btbn.1.–timp; 3 perc; hp.pno; str
Also Available for Symphonic Winds and for Piano
for my dear friend, Jeffery N. Lund
When deciding on what to compose for my Master’s Thesis Composition, after much discussion, contemplation, and pestering, I ultimately decided on a work that would incorporate two things that “scared” me the most compositionally: a marimba solo and the orchestra.
Being a percussionist, one would think that I would thrive when writing a solo for marimba. But before I began I was always concerned that I would only write what I could play. And to be honest, I was not a great marimba player. So to write a concerto for an instrument I am supposed to have an intimate knowledge of did indeed frighten me. The orchestra scared me for two reasons. First, outside of undergraduate composition lessons that focused on exercises for all instruments and groups, I have never composed for orchestra. Add to the fact that the odds of even securing ONE performance with an orchestra are pretty slim, and you have a great case for me not to write for orchestra.
After I began writing the piece, however, I fell in love with the instrumentation; the colors the strings could provide, how versatile the marimba was, and how lush and pretty the whole orchestra could sound. I realized quickly how great the orchestra was and was glad I took the chance.
The concerto consists of three movements:
Effervescent – a lively, exhilarating trip through a musical, marimba obstacle course; where the music bubbles and hisses and the soloist announces to the audience, “I am here!”
Gotas (de Lluvia) – drops of rain; starting softly, slowly, and sparse, sometimes falling quickly and full, but to me always beautiful and calming.
Ostentatious – a tour de force, intended to attract notice, and to impress others.
My colleague, fellow percussionist and dear friend Jeff Lund, for whom the piece is for and dedicated to, assisted me through the compositional process and acted as a mentor through my orchestral revelation. His friendship and invaluable guidance has influenced me more than I could ever tell him.
Fantasia for Marimba was written for orchestra and transcribed for wind ensemble and for piano in 2009 and is written for and dedicated to Jeffery N. Lund.
Bone Storm is influenced by the music of Michael Daugherty, a contemporary composer who notes popular music influences in his music. In order to achieve a “tonal groove,” I decided to use the timpani and treat the piece as a duet, rather than an accompanied solo. The trombone and timpani parts are written to complement and contrast each other, with a “storm” of exchanged notes and rhythms.
While obviously a reference to the trombone, the title Bone Storm also refers to TV’s “The Simpsons,” and Bart’s plea, “Buy me ‘Bone Storm’ or go to Hell!”
Bone Storm is written for and dedicated to Martin Montoya.
A set of brass knuckles is a devastating weapon. Small and compact, it’s capable of unloading a tremendous amount of damage on its target with little warning. Daniel Montoya, Jr.’s Brass Knuckles is similarly conceived—a pugilistic gutshot wrapped up in a tight package. The title itself is a bit playful as a reflection on the nature of the ensemble; the words reflecting the orchestration itself—a mix of brass and percussion instruments—and the punchy capabilities of such a lean and powerful group.
The piece is cast in a tripartite form, with rambunctious exterior sections outlining a disoriented, slow middle. The action involved is not unlike any number of famous scenes in films that depict a sensational prize fight. The opening fisticuffs are aggressive and brash, like two wild fighters in their prime swinging for an instantaneous knockout. The rhythm, a curious alternation of 5/8 and 7/8 meters, seems to shout out the title of the work with vicious aplomb. In the aftermath of the initial blows, the texture thins and a sequence of duets emerges: a duo marimba ostinato that accompanies two agile euphoniums, followed by another for horn and trombone. One might imagine the fighters circling, simultaneously dodging and defending themselves while searching for the opening that would lend them the advantage. From here it builds back to another melee over the constant rhythmic battering of the percussion. The music alternates in this manner several times, with fierce exchanges countered by limber sparring, until finally the action stops with a tremendous punch from the tutti ensemble.
What follows is a chorale of sorts for the brass, building from the lowest tessitura of the group up. The initial presentation is skewed and discombobulated, with strange chord progressions and tense unresolved dissonances. In this moment, the fighter protagonist seems down for the count, unable to pull themselves back up. The entry of the trumpets, however, signals a moment of heroic resilience. A twinkling of mallet percussion then urges the motion forward, with ascending melodic lines demonstrating the return to the action. From there, the ride to the end is a furious one, with the brilliant technique of the euphoniums, in particular, nearly incessant for the remainder of the work. The flurry of notes takes on the valiant character of the rising combatant, stepping courageously back into the fray. At last, the material from the very opening of the work returns with an even more aggressive spirit as a precursor to the ending: a mad rush of blows, finally resolved with a vicious terminal haymaker.
Program note by Jake Wallace Please credit Jake Wallace when reproducing or excerpting this program note
Rumble Strips is the sequel to my 2003 composition, The Highway. This piece for 7 performers and audio accompaniment is written in three parts and is inspired by the Noise Pop, Trance, and Dub Step genres, respectively.
Also known as “sleeper lines,” Rumble Strips are a safety feature on roads that warn drivers of potential danger by causing a vibration and audible rumbling through the wheels into the body of the car. On freeways, motorways, and highways, these are usually found on the shoulder and centerline to alert drivers when they drift from their lane.
Like The Highway, Rumble Strips is written with constant grooves throughout the piece and in styles of music that I love listening to in my car on trips. While not inspired directly by any specific song, there are subtle, and not so subtle, homages, nods and hints of Britney Spears, Enigma, Falco, Flux Pavilion, Nero, Skrillex, Sleigh Bells, and other songs and artists one might hear on the radio, in a club, or a BBC Radio 1 Essential Mix.
Rumble Strips is dedicated to Dr. Robert Schietroma for taking a chance and publishing my percussion music. I am truly indebted to him and my career wouldn’t be where it is today without him.
