#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

[land-amidst-the-stars]

Monthly Music Recommendation

"Birds" Flute Trio by Herman Beeftink, performed by Rama Kumaran

I've played flute/piccolo for almost a decade now, and there are certain pieces that just stick with you when you hear them. Beeftink has several of these excellent pieces to his name, but one of the first ones I encountered was his Birds trio. It does an excellent job at evoking the sound and feel of birds in flight, and is incredibly fun to play besides. I've never had the chance to perform it before, but I've worked on it several times over the years and would love to present it to an audience one day.

"Birds" is around 11:30 minutes long, and consists of three separate movements.

[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…

[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 :(:(:(

[pallases]

[migueldelaguila]

🎶 Excited to invite you all to a special concert also tonight! 🎶

📅 **Date:** Thursday, September 26, 2024 

🕗 **Time:** 8 PM 

📍 **Venue:** Pickman Hall, Longy School of Music  Cambridge, MA

Miguel del Aguila - It will be an evening of beautiful music featuring **SUBMERGED**, my piece inspired by Alfonsina Storni’s surrealist poem.  🌊✨    Program also includes works by Debussy, Milhaud, and Valerie Coleman.

It’ll be a wonderful way to kick off Radius Ensemble’s twenty-sixth season. Hope to see familiar faces in the audience! 💖

[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

[lesser-known-composers]

Eugene Walckiers (1793-1866) : Flute Trio No. 2, Op. 93: 1st movement

Slovenian Flute Trio:

Brina Kafol Zust, Marko Zupan, Boris Bizjak

[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.”

[reva-lution]

Moonfam Music Analysis

This took a lot longer than expected, but I have finished a full analysis of Rayla, Runaan, and Ethari (a little bit of Tiadrin and Lain for specks of screentime they had) up till the end of season 6! Truth be told, I still need some time to begin analyzing season 7, especially since I wasn't expecting the direction they took with this narrative thread.

ENJOY!! Let me know if I missed anything, what you noticed in season 7, or what you would like me to analyze next! Thanks for your support!!! FULL ANALYSIS AT THE LINK BELOW ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thematic Foundations: “Heartbloom” as Rayla’s Family (popularly referred to as the Moonfam) Theme

“Heartbloom” emerges as a musical representation of Rayla’s connection to her found family (Runaan, Ethari, and by extension, herself). The theme’s tender, layered orchestration—featuring strings, piano, and flute—speaks to the deep emotional bonds within the Moonshadow elf family.

Instrumentation and Tonal Qualities: The consistent use of plucked strings in “Heartbloom” and its structural similarities to “Silvergrove” underscore its ties to Moonshadow culture and Rayla’s heritage. These instruments evoke the delicate yet resilient nature of her family, highlighting their fragility and strength amidst conflict.

Parallelism with “My Heart for Xadia”: The cello’s introduction in “My Heart for Xadia” mirrors “Heartbloom,” connecting the Moonfam’s story to larger themes of love and sacrifice. Both pieces resonate in F major, a key often associated with warmth and tenderness, grounding the emotional moments between characters.

“Because She’s Rayla”: A Personal Identity Theme

“Because She’s Rayla” is closely tied to Rayla’s individual growth and her struggle to balance familial expectations with her own sense of self. Its instrumentation (violin, cello, piano, and flute) aligns closely with “Heartbloom,” suggesting that her identity cannot be separated from her family.

In Season 6, Episode 5, as Rayla sings to Esmeray, the melody’s shifts between major and minor keys echo the interplay of hope and sorrow—a hallmark of both “Heartbloom” and “Because She’s Rayla.” This moment underscores Rayla’s emotional journey and her attempt to reconcile her familial connections.

Fast-Paced Themes: Action vs. Reflection

The fast-paced sequences in Rayla’s confrontations with Runaan highlight their strained relationship. The absence of “Heartbloom” in these moments reinforces the emotional distance and unresolved conflict between them. However:

In the moments when Runaan recalls Ethari or Rayla appeals to him directly, the music shifts—slowing and softening to reintroduce emotional intimacy. For example, in Season 6, Episode 9, Rayla’s plea (“I’m your daughter”) is underscored by “Because She’s Rayla,” signaling a breakthrough in their relationship.

Selective Use of “Heartbloom”

The sparing use of “Heartbloom” in scenes involving Tiadrin and Lain (e.g., Season 6, Episode 9) suggests that this theme is not tied to all familial bonds but specifically to Runaan, Ethari, and Rayla. This distinction highlights the lingering narrative significance of the Moonfam trio, leaving space for future exploration. Specifically, when Rayla is giving her final goodbyes to her parents in Season 6, Episode 9 the Heartbloom theme is completely absent, replaced by melodic vocals and a touch of Rayla’s personal theme.

Key Transformations: Death and Renewal

In Season 3, Episode 3, the minor key version of “Heartbloom” following the Ruthari kiss reflects themes of loss and transformation. This tonal shift parallels Runaan’s trajectory—his grief over Ethari and the Moonfam’s sacrifices. Similarly, in Season 4, Episode 8, as Rayla gifts the butterfly blades to Rex Igneous, “Because She’s Rayla” evolves subtly, mirroring her growth and the ongoing influence of her family’s legacy.

Moonshadow Elf Themes Across the Series

“Silvergrove”: The theme captures the essence of the Moonshadow elves’ homeland. Its reliance on plucked strings and sparse instrumentation reflects their stealth and detachment from the world. Yet, this detachment also signifies the loneliness and isolation that pervades Rayla’s story.

Scene Highlight – Season 3, Episode 3: The melancholy yet serene tone of “Silvergrove” mirrors the emotional weight of Rayla’s departure from her home and her sense of exile.

“My Heart for Xadia”: The opening strings of this piece resonate with “Heartbloom,” linking the broader struggle for Xadia to the personal sacrifices of the Moonshadow elves.

Scene Highlight – Season 6, Episode 9: Subtle echoes of “My Heart for Xadia” can be felt in the mystical glockenspiel tones during Rayla’s reunion with her parents, tying their personal sacrifices to the greater fight for Xadia.

Moon Nexus Motifs: The Moon Nexus themes feature gentle, cyclical melodies on flute and strings, symbolizing the perpetual cycles of the moon and the elves’ adherence to duty and time. These motifs subtly appear in moments of reflection or decision, such as Runaan’s imprisonment and Rayla’s moments of doubt.

Musical Motifs Across Episodes... link below :D

[brandonjnelson]

Great Progress on Alto Flute Trio!

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

[sassenach77yle]

THE YEAR ENDED clear and cold, with a small, brilliant moon that rose high in the violet-black vault of the sky, and flooded the coves and trails of the mountainside with light. A good thing, as people came from all over the Ridge—and some, even farther—to keep Hogmanay at “the Big House.”

The men had cleared the new barn and raked the floor clean for the dancing. Jigs and reels and strathspeys—and a number of other dances for which I didn’t know the names, but they looked like fun—were executed under the light of bear-oil lanterns, accompanied by the music of Evan Lindsay’s scratchy fiddle and the squeal of his brother Murdo’s wooden flute, punctuated by the heartbeat thump of Kenny’s bodhran. Thurlo Guthrie’s ancient father had brought his pipes, too—a set of small uilleann pipes that looked nearly as decrepit as did Mr. Guthrie, but produced a sweet drone. The melody of his chanter sometimes agreed with the Lindsays’ notion of a particular tune, and sometimes didn’t, but the overall effect was cheerful, and sufficient whisky and beer had been taken by this point in the festivities that no one minded in the least. After an hour or two of the dancing, I privately decided that I understood why the word “reel” had come to indicate drunkenness; even performed without preliminary lubrication, the dance was enough to make one dizzy. Done under the influence of whisky, it made all the blood in my head whirl round like the water in a washing machine. I staggered off at the end of one such dance, leaned against one of the barn’s uprights, and closed one eye, in hopes of stopping the spinning sensation.

A nudge on my blind side caused me to open that eye, revealing Jamie, holding two brimming cups of something. Hot and thirsty as I was, I didn’t mind what it was, so long as it was wet. Fortunately it was cider, and I gulped it. “Drink it like that, and ye’ll founder, Sassenach,” he said, disposing of his own cider in precisely similar fashion. He was flushed and sweating from the dancing, but his eyes sparkled as he grinned at me. “Piffle,” I said. With a bit of cider as ballast, the room had quit spinning, and I felt cheerful, if hot. “How many people are in here, do you think?”

“Sixty-eight, last time I counted.” He leaned back beside me, viewing the milling throng with an expression of deep content. “They come in and out, though, so I canna be quite sure. And I didna count the weans,” he added, moving slightly to avoid collision as a trio of small boys caromed through the crowd and shot past us, giggling. Heaps of fresh hay were stacked in the shadows at the sides of the barn; the small bodies of children too wee to stay awake were draped and curled among them like so many barn kittens. The flicker of lantern light caught a gleam of silky red-gold; Jemmy was sound asleep in his blanket, happily lulled by the racket. I saw Bree come out of the dancing and lay her hand briefly on him to check, then turn back. Roger put out a hand to her, dark and smiling, and she took it, laughing as they whirled back into the stamping mass.

Hogmanay ~The fiery cross

[cumulo-stratus]

A New Years Kiss

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Summary: You and Spencer share a New Years kiss at Rossi's house to celebrate

Warnings: kissing, fluff fluff fluff

A/N: just a little Drabble I wrote at like 2 am on new years <3 hope you enjoy!!

“You know this is our one year anniversary-” Spencer said with a chuckle, pulling you in by the waist. You chuckled and looked up at him, because Although you were tall- you weren't Spencer Reid tall. 

“It is this time last year I kissed you for the first time- you're a very gentle kisser you know”. Your tone had a joking tone to it, but was still just as loving and caring as you always were when talking to your beloved Spencer. 

The pair were so wrapped up in the world moment together they either didn't hear or chose to ignore the sound of Derek whistling at the intimate moment between the two members of the BAU team. 

Penelope jogged, well more like shuffled over in her 5 inch heels, towards the couple and handed them each a flute of champagne.

There were 5 minutes left till the ball dropped on the tv in the center of the living room of David rossi's house. 

He had pulled out all the stops for the BAU and their friends and family- all were invited. Haley and Jack, JJ and Will, Emily, Derek and Penelope showed up together, and of course you Spencer. The BAU’s Cutest Couple™.   

You pulled Spencer in by the waist , and he leaned his head on your shoulder, the warmth of your neck drew Spencer in, not letting him leave. You just smiled, loving Spencer's docile nature and loving mannerisms. Before you could even realize what was happening a very Emily Penelope Garcia flashed a camera in front of you and Spencer's face, capturing the adorable moment.

“You guys are so cute! Ugh- I wish I had that!” Penelope spoke with a pout, jealous of you and Spencer's cute couple-ly-ness. Penelope's comment elicited a laugh from both you and Spencer. 

The trio was drawn from their conversation by Morgan yelling at them to pay attention, it was New Year's Eve after all. “Kids! Come on we got thirty seconds- their showing the ball drop!” Derek motioned for the trio to come over to the couch while he spoke, urgence in his voice. Penelope decided to sit next to Morgan, and he placed his arm around her neck and she leaned into his shoulder- in classic Garcia and Morgan fashion. 

You however opted to stand in front of your boyfriend, his arms wrapped gently around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest. Spencer was practically a full head taller than you, and because of that he was able to rest his chin on your scalp. 

The group began to Count down together, almost chanting. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Happy New Years!” Everyone cried out in unison. After the chanting finished, everyone cheered and clinked their glasses of champagne together and took small sips. You Spencer however? You were doing something else entirely. 

As soon as the countdown ended you turned around in Spencer's arms and grabbed his face. You held his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, they were chapped- Spencer lips were always chapped in the winter, and in the summer. At first Spencer was startled, but he soon leaned into it, placing his hands on your cheeks as well. His fingers were cold on your warm cheeks, Spencer had chronic doctor hands- they were always cold. But you didn't mind, as long as your lips remained pressed together. 

It was only when air was absolutely necessary did either one of you pull away. Morgan gave a wolf whistle and you chuckled. Spencer's cheeks just flushed even more red than they'd been before. You leaned back in for one more peck on Spencer's smile, this kiss much more chaste. 

Spencer had a bashful smile on his face when he asked “what was that for?”. You looked at him with a sly smile, before answering “new years” with a shrug and a chuckle. He looked confused for a second before asking “how is that of any significance?”.  You couldn't help but laugh at Spencer's cluelessness of many classic traditions of romance, such as kissing your partner on New Year's Eve. “It's a romantic tradition Spence, couples kiss on New Year's Eve, and I wanted to kiss you-” when you winked, Spencer looked away, blushing profusely.

“Oh,”

“I wanted to kiss you too”

Spencer couldn't look you in the eyes as he spoke, but you could still hear the love and adoration in his voice. 

The End