Frank Corcoran

Well we got over them Alps , all things and great mountain tunnels considered, and no shortage of fresh snow above ground. So what is it that shaped this double exile ? From the land of ” Jawohl!” to that of ” Si! Magari! ” , I now wonder, the viaticum passed ? Was it the usual cunning and distance and getting the other angle ? I wonder about fate or design that shapes our ends, as the bags are silently unpacked for a while anyhow. Here it´s ham in the burg, snug as a rug, air-cured. ” A mighty burg ist unser Gott !” “Burg” is ” Buirgheas” , surely ? – As in ” Buirgheas
Uí Chéin” , englished poorly into ” Borrisokane” where ´twas far that I was, an unwashed lad, from Alpine tunnels and choral haikus ( more later on the 2011 premiere of ” EIGHT HAIKUS BY FRANK CORCORAN” for S S A A T T B B Choir ) .

That tree-riding snake I wrote recently enough about has now ( I do hope – for it and me ) entererd its winter langour. The walnut-hamstering brown squirrel was not seen since ; our wind, this bone -cutting tramontana, whistles its Lazio Caoine for this good year, all nibs hung up to dry, like the fishermen´s nets at the lake shore in Marta. There´ll be no boat going out to our islands this wintry November. No place on troubled , post-volcanic waters. Cross the mighty Alps ( how did Hannibal bring along enough hay for his elephants , enough supplies of matches and vinegar to fire – split Alpine pass rocks, I do wonder as I blow on my fingers ) . Move on up. Bring one nib along. Music note-paper. On the off chance that.. I never know how the wind will change its icy tune.

Dawn just snuck up now to shake cold birds awake to their modest enough October song, just a motive or phrase repeated, hardly a melisma to be heard among them . Burn the summer´s waste wood today, certainly. Batten hatches down for five months. ( I will. ) Composed the FIVE TENOR LIEDER, RHAPSODIC BOWING for 8 Celli, FOUR PIECES FOR 2 CLARINETS, whil I prepare the Violin Concerto for its 2012 premiere . And The Tones Were Made Tunes, its orchestral birth ; other, sundry, good 2010 works, too. I saw the long snake disappearing up the Birds´Choral Tree very fast, spelling dreadful , avian disaster for some.
The rabbit family failed to penetrate their fence. Tomatoes exploded, ditto vegetable marrow. Space-time behaved itself. Felice tu !

Each year , including this one, I have to buy a new sun-hat. Why ? A lone squirrel is pinching now from my walnut tree. And all parturitioning vipers keep about their invisible business as the nights get really cold here . Two hens, like dogs , answer the call of old Maria-Rovensa , next garden. Morning birds chitter alright after the rapidly dying heat. While thinking of the New York premiere ( early in 2011 ) of newest ” SONGS OF TERROR AND LOVE ” ( I englished Jacopone Da Todi´s great shout ! ) I scribbled this October Haiku:

Grease this chalice, grace !

“E lucevan le stelle” ….

Basho hiccups twice.

I am gathering there IS a modest readership. Beware – again , again, it threatens sane sanity´s composer´s logic – the Anti – Corcoran Theorem : ” The quality of the work ( qQ x Ww = I P ) is equal to its performances , how many , my son? How grave ?

I put this to myself ( it is now three in the October morn , about to be born ) : when awake, bake a Haiku or three.

Twice Basho scribbles.
” Harder than planting rice is
To wash my own back….”

Or what about this Haiku-baking:

Sweet Heart of Jesus,
You, my gentle vocative.
Underfoot an ant.

Well, is this, then death?
A last, lonely ciccada
Is worried no more.

Is glic iad lucha / San fhomhar oll-órga. Ari´s / Ní bheidh a leithéid ann….

( A last baked Haiku for now as our roses-fingering dawn sneaks in …. )

Guarda i ratti !
M´immenso di Autunno .
– Ciascuno così

I put this to myself ( it is now three in the October morn , about to be born ) : when awake, bake a Haiku or three.

Twice Basho scribbles.
” Harder than planting rice is
To wash my own back….”

Or what about this Haiku-baking:

Sweet Heart of Jesus,
You, my gentle vocative.
Underfoot an ant.

Well, is this, then death?
A last, lonely ciccada
Is worried no more.

Is glic iad lucha / San fhomhar oll-órga. Ari´s / Ní bheidh a leithéid ann….

( A last baked Haiku for now as our roses-fingering dawn sneaks in …. )

Guarda i ratti !
M´immenso di Autunno .
– Ciascuno così

2005 Spring “Kunst/Musik” Cologne: “It´s An
Ill Wind Blows On An Irish Composer”.

2002 Music Manual Vienna: “Frank Corcoran”.

2004 New Irish Press “The Sounds Of Exile”.

2007 December 13 Ireland House . N.Y.U.

Ditto Dec. 14 Princeton University : “The
Dolmen´s Lament” presentation.

2008 Jan. 22 Hugh Lane Gallery Dublin: Calleno Quartet premiere my FIRST STRING QUARTET

2008 February in Salzau Castle : “ACOUSTIC TURN” ( Wilhelm Fink Verlag )

2008 January 21. Lyric Fm :” IRISCHE MIKROKOSMOI” for the Irish Chamber Orchestra

Is there more. Yes. Sicut fumus. Our little life is rounded with a sleep.

This is what . I am not attempting to dinge time ( or Time ) with a belt of a rubber hammer. Yet it behoves that I list quietly and soberly details of works of mine and their performances or premieres in order:

1. to fix them here.
2. to fix them for at least myself.
3. to write ” Fuit”. They have happened.
Once they were ” are”. Once , too, they
were keenly awaited by me , their birth-
pangs and – delights. They have been. Are
they has-beens ? Not necessarily . They,
my composed composing deeds and tonal
structures and musical images and sonor-
-ous dreams and fashioned edifices and
bits and singing pieces can be again. In
each new performance.

That´s why.

1999 Bergamo commssion for ICE ETCHINGS

( 9 Winds )

1993 4 CONCERTINI OF ICE Düsseldorf Sin

-foniker / Mark Schlingensief

22003 W.D.R. ( Dr. Michael Trapp ) reviewed my Symphonies 2, 3 and 4 . Great !

2008 October World Haiku review , vol. 6, Issue 4, brought my Prize Haiku.

2008 Futura Festival, Crest, France, ” QUASI UNA MISSA ”

2008 March 17. Dutch Radio Frank Corcoran Portrait, incl. QUASI UNA MISSA, PIANO TRIO, ROSENSTOCK LIEDER, 3. WIND QUINTET, SWEENEY´S FAREWELL.