FRANK STEMPER, COMPOSER
Bind (2001)
for flute and piano [29 mins.]
in 3 movements
Premiered 28 October 2001at the Society of Composers, Inc. Region I Conference
University of Maine – Orono, by Elizabeth Downing, flute and Phillip Silver, piano
Also performed 7 April 2012 by Doug Worthen, flute & Yuko Kato, piano
on the New Music Circle "Frank Stemper—60th Birthday Concert" in St. Louis
Opus 43 — A.S.C.A.P. work I.D. 322530516
SCORE
University of Maine – Orono, by Elizabeth Downing, flute and Phillip Silver, piano
Also performed 7 April 2012 by Doug Worthen, flute & Yuko Kato, piano
on the New Music Circle "Frank Stemper—60th Birthday Concert" in St. Louis
Opus 43 — A.S.C.A.P. work I.D. 322530516
SCORE
PROGRAM NOTES:
BIND, as in “in a BIND,” or “between a rock and a hard place,” or maybe a pickle, or a fix, or a pretty kettle of fish. A conundrum, a sticky wicket or impossible situation, or a tight spot, a dilemma, painted myself in a corner, or you’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t. No, not you ME. It’s my BIND. How did I get myself into this predicament? What a quandary. It’s a crisis, a deadlock, an imbroglio or impasse, it’s just a mess, a plight, a quagmire, a quandary, an asperity, it’s a clutch condition. “Well, here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into!” But that’s wrong, because it was always the fat guy’s fault even though he tried to blame it on the skinny guy. A BIND is always our fault, er my fault, nobody else’s. We’ve painted ourself into that corner, and we have to get ourselves out of it. And that seems to be impossible, and that’s why we’re in such a BIND.
We took the wrong path that took us from where we wanted to be to where we thought we wanted to be! It seemed like a good idea at the time. We thought that, ….wait we couldn’t have been possibly thinking! As in WHAT could we have been thinking! Or not thinking. We just slithered out of our own skin into someone else’s skin, unknowingly — No, we knew. We knew we were barking up the wrong tree. Sticking our nose where it didn’t belong. It was a completely knowing and lucid decision. We had no one to Blame but ourselves--
— oh no you don’t! There’s no “we,” there’s only me. It was me. I put myself in this kettle of fish. I’d been deceived, mislead, deluded, duped. Yes, that’s it, I was fooled. But I was the fooler, the duper, the deceiver. For the only time in my life I was purposely dishonest to myself, and I knew it. I did it to me. I knew where it was all going to lead and I did it anyway. I stepped off the planet, melted into another dimension, succumbed to the temptation that I was somebody else, and now I want OUT. As in “get me outa here.” Here is the BIND. James BIND. It’s my “fine mess,” and I’m in it all by myself, and I have to get myself out. Good luck pal.
BIND, as in “in a BIND,” or “between a rock and a hard place,” or maybe a pickle, or a fix, or a pretty kettle of fish. A conundrum, a sticky wicket or impossible situation, or a tight spot, a dilemma, painted myself in a corner, or you’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t. No, not you ME. It’s my BIND. How did I get myself into this predicament? What a quandary. It’s a crisis, a deadlock, an imbroglio or impasse, it’s just a mess, a plight, a quagmire, a quandary, an asperity, it’s a clutch condition. “Well, here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into!” But that’s wrong, because it was always the fat guy’s fault even though he tried to blame it on the skinny guy. A BIND is always our fault, er my fault, nobody else’s. We’ve painted ourself into that corner, and we have to get ourselves out of it. And that seems to be impossible, and that’s why we’re in such a BIND.
We took the wrong path that took us from where we wanted to be to where we thought we wanted to be! It seemed like a good idea at the time. We thought that, ….wait we couldn’t have been possibly thinking! As in WHAT could we have been thinking! Or not thinking. We just slithered out of our own skin into someone else’s skin, unknowingly — No, we knew. We knew we were barking up the wrong tree. Sticking our nose where it didn’t belong. It was a completely knowing and lucid decision. We had no one to Blame but ourselves--
— oh no you don’t! There’s no “we,” there’s only me. It was me. I put myself in this kettle of fish. I’d been deceived, mislead, deluded, duped. Yes, that’s it, I was fooled. But I was the fooler, the duper, the deceiver. For the only time in my life I was purposely dishonest to myself, and I knew it. I did it to me. I knew where it was all going to lead and I did it anyway. I stepped off the planet, melted into another dimension, succumbed to the temptation that I was somebody else, and now I want OUT. As in “get me outa here.” Here is the BIND. James BIND. It’s my “fine mess,” and I’m in it all by myself, and I have to get myself out. Good luck pal.