#flute trio

[lesser-known-composers]

Leonardo De Lorenzo (1875-1962) - I tre virtuosi, for three flutes, op. 31

Arete Trio : 1st Dabeen Kim 김다빈

2nd Eunbi Baek 백은비

3rd Misol Byun 변미솔

[rafiknyclassical]

IMHO, The sound of magic.

[automaticfrenchhorn]

Small piece today, another exercise in three-part harmony. As I have done before, most of these chords are built around having a strong consonance (fourth or fifth), colour consonance (third or sixth) and a dissonance (second or seventh).

As always, these pieces are welcome for anyone and everyone to play! All I ask is that you share it with me, because I'd love to hear it done by live players!

[brandonjnelson]

Alto Flute Trio: Another Movement Down

I accidentally dropped my notebook in a snowbank. Luckily the pencil didn’t smudge too badly. Hopefully the whole piece will be done within a week or two…

[liminal-velocity]

This is now non-canon! I don't even know if I have plans for Admond or Fugue/Legato at this point Velocity has 7 primary crew members. This week I'll be posting one of their intros per day.

[gasparodasalo]

Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) - Trio Sonata for Flute, Viola da gamba and Continuo in b-minor, TWV 42:h4, IV. Vivace. Performed by Ton Koopman/Amsterdam Baroque Soloists on period instruments.

[aroadamparrish]

the orchestra teacher comes into the band room to select the winds to complete her ensemble. “i’m going to want-“ *checks list* “trumpet, tuba, and flute.”

[strawberrystainedd]

i love flute so much i hate how unappreciated it is :(:(:(

[plus-low-overthrow]

White on Black - Together Forever (Saydisc)

Flutes.

[pallases]

[migueldelaguila]

🎶 Join me tonight, 7pm for a mesmerizing performance of my #Submerged trio for #flute, #viola, and #harp presented by the Archipelago Collective Festival at the beautiful Brickworks in Friday Harbor, WA. Sophie Baird-Daniel, harp, Alexander Grimes / Andrew Gonzalez, viola, and Olivia Staton, flute will bring this Submerged to life. Don’t miss this unique musical journey! 🌟 #MiguelDelAguila #SubmergedTrio #ArchipelagoCollective #LiveMusic #ClassicalMusic #Harp #Flute #Viola #Brickworks #FridayHarbor #Seattle

[lesser-known-composers]

Louise Farrenc (1804-1875) : Trio for flute, cello, and piano, Op.45

Chia-Lin Ko, flute : Douglas Starkebaum, cello : Bingjie Liu, piano

Movement I      00:00 Movement II     07:36 Movement III    12:26 Movement IV    16:42

April 23, 2017 , Ultan Hall, University of Minnesota

[rafiknyclassical]

A marvelous performance.

Carl Maria Friedrich Ernst von Weber was a German composer, conductor, virtuoso pianist, guitarist, and critic who was one of the first significant composers of the Romantic era. Best known for his operas, he was a crucial figure in the development of German Romantische Oper. Wiki

[richardoburdick]

Richard Burdick's #1 best selling - September Summer, 2013, Op. 155b for flute, clarinet and horn

Learn more at https://i-ching-music.com/opus155b.html

Find the Sheet music here: https://www.musicaneo.com/sheetmusic/sm-191110_september_summer.html

[brandonjnelson]

Great Progress on Alto Flute Trio!

See a piece from conception to, well, at least partially done!

[newfoundstateof]

but she fell in love with an english man | b.b. x reader

summary: Academy friends drag Benedict to a tavern to watch Irish fiddle player!reader perform. He buys her a drink. But who can play a fiddle and drink a pint at the same time?

word count: 1.2k

warnings: suggestive but none

a/n: definitely not inspired by those tiktoks of dirty talk bar maids at ren faires, who said that???

“They are spectacular,” Rupert Norton declared with an arm slung over Benedict’s shoulder.

The rest of the Royal Academy students hummed in agreement. Already drunk from the party they left minutes ago, a small group of them stumbled down the cobbled streets of Soho. Earlier that night, news broke that a band that visited a few weeks before Benedict enrolled at the Academy had returned to much anticipation. In an instant, pipes were dropped, coats were gathered, and boots were marching to The Intrepid Fox tavern.

“They’re from Ireland,” someone said.

“I’ve never danced so much in my life,” another added.

“And the fiddle player is quite easy on the eyes,” Rupert slurred into Benedict’s ear. “Try and buy her a drink if you can. That usually gets her attention.”

Benedict laughed. “I’m just here to enjoy the music. As should all of you scoundrels.”

Once inside the tavern, a few of the men beelined to the bar to order whiskey shots for the fiddle player despite the empty stage in the corner. Benedict simply took a seat at the bar, observing the growing crowd. The band’s reputation must have preceded them, as he was soon shoulder to shoulder with the eager fans. But for the next twenty minutes, only chatter filled the room.

“They always like to keep you waiting,” Rupert grumbled into his ale. “But it’s worth it, I promise.”

“I don’t mind,” Benedict smiled. “It’s good people watch-”

The room erupted into cheering, and he turned toward the stage. Sure enough, two men climbed the small wooden platform. One carried a fiddle, the other a flute. The room roared even louder when you emerged with your fiddle, waving a good-natured hand to the audience. Your smile was wide and disarming. Your gaze was equally piercing. Looking at the gleam in your eyes, Benedict knew just how aware you were of your control over the room. Soon the clapping died down, and every soul waited with bated breath to what you would say.

A scrawny kitchen hand hurried up to you and set a tray of shots down on a small barrel.

“Wow,” you breathed. “All this for little old me?”

Benedict found himself chuckling with everyone. As you threw a shot back, his stomach dropped. You were certainly not like the young ladies of the ton. 

“This crowd is mighty impressive, isn’t it, boys?” you asked your bandmates as you all started tuning your instruments. “We appreciate you for coming out. If you don’t know us already, the lad on the flute is Johnny. My fellow friend on the fiddle is Patrick. And I’m Y/N. I have a favor to ask of you all… From now until the last of you sorry lot leave this building, I hereby decree this an Irish pub! That means we will be clapping along to the songs, singing if you know the words, and if you are so inclined, I would love to see some dancing tonight.”

Someone in the audience whistled, evoking more cheers.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” you grinned.

The trio launched into Seven Drunken Nights, a popular jig even Benedict knew. Though his classmates were rowdily singing along, he could only stare at you. Johnny and Patrick generally kept to their places on stage, but you swayed across, drawing your bow theatrically compared to Patrick’s controlled movements. He was the main vocalist, but during the wife’s lines in the song, you sang with the crowd. 

“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly ol’ fool. Still, you cannot see, that’s a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me!”

Benedict couldn’t decide if you were a better fiddle player or singer, you were impeccable at both. But without a doubt, you were the best at simply putting on a show. You encouraged people to dance along as you skipped across the stage. Benedict could only imagine how taxing it was for you. Dancing, singing, and playing an instrument all while not breaking a sweat. He eyed the tray of shots, turned to the nearest bartender, and ordered something more refreshing for you.

As you strung out the last note of Seven Drunken Nights, the same kitchen hand ran the mug of beer up to your tray. You sighed to yourself.

“Which one of you did this?” you cried out, lifting the mug high.

Heads spun every which way. Benedict froze. Was liquor the only appropriate drink to tip a musician? He wasn’t sure, he’d never been to something like this. Awkwardly, he coughed and raised his hand.

Your eyes found him in the sea of faces, and you smirked. “Don’t be shy, come here!”

 Rupert clapped Benedict on the back. “Don’t screw this up, Bridgerton. She might go home with you tonight.”

Though he had been with many women and dangerously close with a few men, you still intimidated him somehow. Nothing intimate had been on his mind before Rupert’s comment, but now his heart skipped a few beats at just the thought of it. Benedict snaked through the crowd, trying to read the expression on your face. But all you looked was smug, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you poured the ale on his head. 

“Finally,” you breathed as he stood before you. “One of you buys a lady a real drink!”

He exhaled in relief.

“I’m afraid I’m quite thirsty though,” you pout, getting down on one knee. The stage was barely a foot off the ground, putting your face directly in front of Benedict’s wide shoulders. “And we need to get on with the next song, but I don’t have enough hands. Would you help me, good sir?”

Without waiting for his response, you shoved the drink in his hands and looked up to the ceiling. Before Benedict could blink, you were poising your instrument and drawing out a note with your bandmates following suit.

“We’re lucky I don’t sing in this one,” you smile, giving him a pointed look. “Get on with it, now. I’m parched.”

Never one to argue with a lady, Benedict slowly tilted the rim of the glass to your lips and poured the liquid steadily down your throat. You looked up through your lashes at him, daring him to look away. But he didn’t. Only when some of the ale dripped down your chin and onto your bodice did his gaze break yours.

“Should I stop?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No,” as much as you could with your lips around the glass.

As you neared the last dregs, your head tilted back more and more to get it all. The eroticism of it all was not lost on Benedict, especially as you swallowed the last gulp and moaned audibly. The growing friction in the front of his pants was no help. But once the glass was finished, you rose to your feet and sent him off with a wink. As you spun to the other side of the stage, the hem of your skirt brushed his groin and he mindlessly reached for the fabric. But you were gone. In a trance, Benedict walked backward to his friends at the bar, adjusting himself. 

“Has she done that before,” he coughed.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Rupert crowed. “And I’ve seen them perform at least five times since I started at the Academy.”

“You’ve got to talk to her after, Bridgerton,” someone urged.

“Can I come along?” a voice teased.

“You’re the luckiest bastard on earth right now,” another sighed.

Across the room, you caught him starring and blew him a quick kiss.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Luckiest bastard on earth.”