Uploaded March 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
Attending to Sacred Matters, for two-channel audio (2002)
What do we consider to be sacred in our lives and how do we attend to it? This question, my travels in India and my long-standing environmental concerns formed the impetus for this composition and are somehow brought together here. The sacred is deeply meaningful in Indian culture and, on a daily basis, people visit temples or other holy places of the many different religions. The piece is working on two levels: on the one hand it tries to grapple with the almost chaotic multitude of religions in this country and on the other hand it wants to create a place of inner stillness, a sacred place of energy, attention and creativity, of deeper listening.
Regular religious practice is very much a part of people’s lives in India and exists on a much wider scale than in North America and Europe. Consequently, the sounds of religion are also abundantly present in the Indian soundscape—from their most prominent and raucous form of distorted loudspeakers broadcasting religious chants into the environment for hours at a time, to their more intimate, quiet form of a group of people, for example, participating in a dawn ritual in a local park. Attending to Sacred Matters is based on the sounds of the many religious and spiritual practices that I encountered and recorded in India—such as the chanting from the Sikh Golden Temple in Amritsar, bells and ritual sounds from various Hindu temples, sounds from an Ashram in Rishikesh and the voice of Swami Brahmananda, Muezzins calling for prayer from various mosques, chanting at dusk on the Ganges in Rishikesh, voices of people naming Hindu Gods and Godesses, bells from a Jain temple, the chanting of OM, and so on. In addition, there are the sounds of water and the voice of environmental activist Vandana Shiva.
People in India often speak proudly about the fact that many religions can co-exist peacefully in their country. And then deep disappointment is expressed when one violent incident, such as the destruction of the mosque in Ayodhya in 1992 by politically extreme Hindus, causes once again the eruption of hate between religious groups. When I started to work on this piece, it was precisely with the idea of celebrating, through the “language” of sound, the peaceful co-existence of different religious and spiritual belief systems. Now, in the face of the many voices of hate, violence, aggression, war and sensational journalism, I have felt an urgency to create a listening experience, a “tone”, a place of listening, that allows the more hidden voices in us of peace and human compassion to emerge and to speak out with conviction.
Attending to Sacred Matters is dedicated to my friend Veena Sharma who took me to many holy places in India, including the Ganges in Rishikesh.
SOUND SOURCES
Voices:
Swami Brahmananda, Rishikesh
Pracharya Padmanabha Sharma, Delhi
Veena Sharma, Delhi Vandana Shiva, speaking at the International Water Conference in Vancouver, Canada, July 2001
Situ Singh-Bühler, Delhi
Hindu chanting in Rishikesh and Pushkar
Muezzins in Nizamuddin, Delhi and Kollam, Kerala
OM singer during morning ceremony in Janakpuri District Park, Delhi
Sikh chant: Golden Temple, Amritsar
Single child at the Ganges in Rishikesh
Women chanting in Brahma Temple in Pushkar
Bells:
Temple bells in Delhi, Pushkar and Rishikesh
Water:
River in South Goa
The Ganges in Rishikesh
Art by Tyeb Mehta
Attending to Sacred Matters, for two-channel audio (2002)
What do we consider to be sacred in our lives and how do we attend to it? This question, my travels in India and my long-standing environmental concerns formed the impetus for this composition and are somehow brought together here. The sacred is deeply meaningful in Indian culture and, on a daily basis, people visit temples or other holy places of the many different religions. The piece is working on two levels: on the one hand it tries to grapple with the almost chaotic multitude of religions in this country and on the other hand it wants to create a place of inner stillness, a sacred place of energy, attention and creativity, of deeper listening.
Regular religious practice is very much a part of people’s lives in India and exists on a much wider scale than in North America and Europe. Consequently, the sounds of religion are also abundantly present in the Indian soundscape—from their most prominent and raucous form of distorted loudspeakers broadcasting religious chants into the environment for hours at a time, to their more intimate, quiet form of a group of people, for example, participating in a dawn ritual in a local park. Attending to Sacred Matters is based on the sounds of the many religious and spiritual practices that I encountered and recorded in India—such as the chanting from the Sikh Golden Temple in Amritsar, bells and ritual sounds from various Hindu temples, sounds from an Ashram in Rishikesh and the voice of Swami Brahmananda, Muezzins calling for prayer from various mosques, chanting at dusk on the Ganges in Rishikesh, voices of people naming Hindu Gods and Godesses, bells from a Jain temple, the chanting of OM, and so on. In addition, there are the sounds of water and the voice of environmental activist Vandana Shiva.
People in India often speak proudly about the fact that many religions can co-exist peacefully in their country. And then deep disappointment is expressed when one violent incident, such as the destruction of the mosque in Ayodhya in 1992 by politically extreme Hindus, causes once again the eruption of hate between religious groups. When I started to work on this piece, it was precisely with the idea of celebrating, through the “language” of sound, the peaceful co-existence of different religious and spiritual belief systems. Now, in the face of the many voices of hate, violence, aggression, war and sensational journalism, I have felt an urgency to create a listening experience, a “tone”, a place of listening, that allows the more hidden voices in us of peace and human compassion to emerge and to speak out with conviction.
Attending to Sacred Matters is dedicated to my friend Veena Sharma who took me to many holy places in India, including the Ganges in Rishikesh.
SOUND SOURCES
Voices:
Swami Brahmananda, Rishikesh
Pracharya Padmanabha Sharma, Delhi
Veena Sharma, Delhi Vandana Shiva, speaking at the International Water Conference in Vancouver, Canada, July 2001
Situ Singh-Bühler, Delhi
Hindu chanting in Rishikesh and Pushkar
Muezzins in Nizamuddin, Delhi and Kollam, Kerala
OM singer during morning ceremony in Janakpuri District Park, Delhi
Sikh chant: Golden Temple, Amritsar
Single child at the Ganges in Rishikesh
Women chanting in Brahma Temple in Pushkar
Bells:
Temple bells in Delhi, Pushkar and Rishikesh
Water:
River in South Goa
The Ganges in Rishikesh
Art by Tyeb Mehta




![Toshirō Mayuzumi - Mandala Symphony
Mandala Symphony (1960)
I. Tempo non équilibré
II. Extrémement lent [6:18]
The NHK Symphony Orchestra
Hiroyuki Iwaki
Toshirō Mayuzumi was born in 1929. He has been a leader of avant-garde music in Japan since the end of World War II, but it was not until his Nehan Symphony, in 1957, that he brought his own style to perfection. His Mandala Symphony was completed in March, 1960, and first performed that month by the NHK Symphony Orchestra under Hiroyuki Iwaki.
In this work, as in the Nehan Symphony, Mayuzumi has tried to express his own Buddhist view of an omnipotent universe. The mandala is a Buddhist and Hindu mystic symbol of the universe, usually taking the form of a circular design of the faces of the deities of Kongokai-Mandala and Taizokai-Mandala, the unit being called Ryou-Mandala. Kongokai-Mandala symbolizes spiritual awakening through contemplation and a sense of oneness with eternity; Taizokai-Mandala represents the world of Sokushin Jyobutsu, which is made up of phases of life, such as Gakido (a place of hunger and thirst where sinners go in the afterlife) or Shurado (passage of pandemonium, the world of the immature until they attain spiritual awakening).
Like the mandala symbol, the symphony is in two parts. The composer has said of this work: I aimed to illustrate in sound the basic thought of Buddhism, just as painters have done on canvas. Since the object of my aim is so abstract, I have used only pure collections of sounds. [Stereo 32 160152]
Art: Mandala of Jnanadakini, Tibet, late 14th century Toshirō Mayuzumi - Mandala Symphony](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jFO6CJUvFNQ/mqdefault.jpg)
![Lukas Foss - Echoi
Echoi, for four soloists (1960-63)
1. Echoi I
2. Echoi II [3:50]
3. Echoi III [8:10]
4. Echoi IV [16:28]
Charles Wuorinen, piano
Raymond Desroches, percussion
Arthur Bloom, clarinet
Robert Martin, cello
Echoi is not serial in the accepted sense of the word. Series for pitches, durations, entrances, etc., serve to obtain a raw material, a scaffold which in the process of composition is gradually eliminated, destroyed. In composing in this manner one surrounds oneself with serially derived material, picks and chooses, and composes in a free, willful manner with these materials, these note groups, much in the way one used to compose with single notes. Or—to put it another way—the composer, after having obtained an abundance of serial material, composes not by adding but by deleting, erasing, arranging, choosing.
The title Echoi (echo in plural) has several connotations. Echoi were ancient Arabian modes; but it is obvious that the title is also reflected quite literally in the many echo sounds, imitations, instruments shadowing one another canonically, as in Echoi II, or echoes from the distance, as in Echoi III, where a children’s tune (vibraphone) is heard in the background (the past), then distorted, violated, in the foreground (the present), faintly emerging again in the distance (triangle beaters inside the piano strings à la mandoline), only to be annihilated, canceled out by the menacing activity in the foreground. Finally, echoes result from hearing double and triple at the end of Echoi IV. Here the clarinet and cello imitate their own performance as it emerges from two loudspeakers (two pre-recorded tape tracks). It could be argued here that the echoes do not follow, but precede, anticipate.
Throughout Echoi the four musicians play from the score. Where bar lines are absent, the rhythmic notation is proportional. They stay together by following the score and by listening to one another. Considering the high speed of Echoi I and the complex simultaneities of Echoi III and IV, a special skill is demanded here. Another dificult performance task occurs in Echoi IV when the players jump back and forth between different pages in the music (much like a phonograph needle on a defective record). This is done on cue from the percussionist, who strikes an anvil at random moments within a given stretch. This is the signal for the four players to skip from the moment of interruption to an earlier place in the music (idée fixe) and back, invalidating the carefully organized macro-structure. From the start of the obsessional piano monologue to the moment (climax) when the percussion resorts to what is a literal invasion of the piano strings (the only way to bring the piano to a stop), Echoi IV is a commentary on total organization, with the piano acting as protagonist. Though the aleatoric notion and even the musical happening are easily detected here, no share of the composition per se is ever relinquished to the performer—or to chance. Even the improvisatory moments toward the end are limited, directed, texturally controlled via footnotes or invented symbols.
Echoi was commissioned by the Fromm Music Foundation. [Monaural / LC3886]
Art by Eglė Ridikaitė Lukas Foss - Echoi](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jNat3GQ8qpc/mqdefault.jpg)
![Harold Shapero - Sonata for Piano in D
Sonata for Piano in D (1943)
Frank Glazer, piano
Harol Shapero’s Sonata for Piano in D was completed in 1943, and was first performed by the composer at concerts of the League of Composers in New York City. It has since been played throughout Europe and Asia by several pianists, in arrangements for both piano and harpsichord. Frank Glazer has performed it often in his American and European concert tours.
Mr. Shapero has kindly provided the following analysis: “The Sonata is clearly in a style which has been often called ‘international neo-classic’, and takes its inspiration from the keyboard music of Scarlatti, K.P.E. Bach, and Haydn. Integrated with these traditional elements are familiar twentieth-century materials and some slight references to jazz. A formal analysis of the Sonata runs as follows:
Allegro precisco — sonata allegro in D
Poco adagio — five-part song form in G
Minuetto — three-part ABA Minuet-Scherzo in B-flat minor
Presto — seven-part rondo in D.” [CS-217]
Art by Emma Kohlmann Harold Shapero - Sonata for Piano in D](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/kMyUA10f_yo/mqdefault.jpg)


![John La Montaine - Concerto for Piano and Orchestra
Concerto for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 9 (1958)
I. Moderately Fast — Decisive
II. Elegy: Andante [10:02]
III. Finale [18:21]
Karen Keys, piano
Oklahoma City Symphony Orchestra
Guy Fraser Harrison
John La Montaine, though known among his professional colleagues for a decade as a highly gifted pianist, came into national prominence as a composer only in 1958, when the Piano Concerto recorded here received its world premiere on November 25 of that year with Jorge Bolet as soloist and the National Symphony conducted by Howard Mitchell. The music had been commissioned by the National Symphony Orchestra under a grant from the Ford Foundation, and in 1959 the score was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Music. This CRI recording was done under the terms of a 1962 award to Mr. La Montaine from the American Academy of Arts and Letters.
The reasons for the deep impression made by the Concerto on both lay listeners and on critics and professionals is not hard to discover; for in common with his senior colleague, Samuel Barber, La Montaine has displayed in his music a flair for intensely dramatic lyrical utterance in combination with virtuosic effectiveness in the best sense of the word that makes for surefire listener impact. For a contemporary composer to accomplish such a feat in a large-scale piece, sticking within a relatively traditional frame-work, and avoiding the slightest taint of the meretricious is a feat of no mean order, and one attainable only by a composer whose stylistic persuasions are backed by a solidity of craftsmanship that has become second nature. In this connection, it is sufficient to mention that Mr. La Montaine’s training, after studies in Chicago, was received from such august institutions as the Eastman School of Music and the Juilliard School, as well as from Nadia Boulanger.
Regarding the musical form and content of Mr. La Montaine’s Piano Concerto, the publisher has supplied a succinct and valid summation: The Concerto affirms both the lyric and virtuoso capabilities of the piano. The first movement is bold and decisive, classic in form, romantic in content. The second movement is slow and introspective, rising to an overwhelming climax. It is an elegy in memory of the composer’s sister, Isabel La Montaine. The Finale, in quadruple meter, is brilliant, rhythmic and march-like, interrupted twice by an extended songful passage of great intensity in triple meter. All the thematic and passage material of the final movement is derived from the opening of the first movement. [CRI SD189]
Art by Xenia Hausner John La Montaine - Concerto for Piano and Orchestra](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/m_XDC2b1624/mqdefault.jpg)
