Robert Carl

Piccolo, 4 Flutes, and Alto Flute

Composer's Note:

In the morning I have my coffee in an alcove that looks out over my (tiny) backyard, and I watch the birds at a feeder hanging from a tree a few feet away. The device is a thin rectangular column, with six perches [designed to be squirrel-proof; in fact this one--after much research--does seem to live up  to the claim]. Flocks of birds come eagerly, at first a few at a time, then in  swarms wherein if one is feeding, another is nearby fluttering ready to take its place, ad infinitum (at least until the seeds are gone). Towards the end of a cycle, the flow of birds can become a small cyclone...then peter out as quickly.

I've been fascinated by the rhythms and patterns of these feedings, and eventually it became clear they were a wonderful stimulus for a musical translation. This short work is an evocation of and tribute to this avian energy and precision.