Horn,Trombone,Trumpet,Tuba - Level 4 - Digital Download
SKU: A0.1158388
Composed by Dr. Daniel N. Thrower. 20th Century,Chamber,Classical,Comedy. 22 pages. Https://gildedmusicpress.com/ #758669. Published by https://gildedmusicpress.com/ (A0.1158388).
My wife’s from-scratch cinnamon rolls are famous throughout our community—especially among our children’s circle of friends. While enjoying a socially-distanced church service at home on Easter Sunday, there was a batch of those butterfly-inducing cinnamon rolls baking in the new oven. They filled the home with an exquisite aromatic delight. Then the magic motif chimed: “The food is done!” I happened to have my composition notebook with me, and the little four-note tune inspired this composition. It just naturally took me in some happy musical directions, and within a minute or two, the melodic content, replete with fun-filled, muted second-trumpet echoes, was scrawled down. The next day, the music was entered into the computer. It is interesting that I gave the horn the cliché off-beats that all hornists know and love so well. Funny, I usually pride myself on writing for horn as an equal musical instrument; however, this fun, happy melody just demanded an “um-pah” accompaniment. Hopefully there is enough variety to keep the part fun to play. It helps that the piece is only two minutes and something long. The transition into the B section almost wrote itself, modulating to the relative minor. There I paused briefly, wondering how to treat a minor section in such an exuberant piece. Oh, but inspiration continued to flow, and I resumed writing in earnest with a mischievous smile! This section beautifully portrays a naughty, sneaky kid tiptoeing into the kitchen for another cinnamon roll—forbidden until after dinner! The listener can hear the kid’s nervous fluttering heart, and moments of pulling his hand back in startled impishness, and even shuddering as he looks fearfully over his shoulder. At the end of the B section, he gets caught! Witnessing that low-hanging head and puppy dog eyes, mommy finds that she can’t scold the lad too severely. “After dinner, little one…” she reprimands with an understanding grin. The jubilant melody returns to round out the work’s ternary ABA form, though this time with a very sticky Ives-esque climax, reminiscent of a gooey cinnamon roll mess. Too enjoyable to be bothered by prospects of cleaning up, the music shrugs it off with flippant ragtime syncopations, and ends with the “hic-burp” of a very satisfied tummy.
