Aegean (piano trio)

Aegean is the second of two companion works written for piano trio (PE181) the other being Corybas (PE179) The works were commissioned by Ian Graham as a birthday gift for his wife Agi Lehar-Graham ( the original manuscript adds a little wordplay to the work’s title, spelling Aegean as Agi-Ian), and in grateful recognition of the New Zealand Chamber Soloists (NZCS) Piano Trio – Katherine Austin, Lara Hall and James Tennant.

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Short and elegant, Aegean is a good fit for trios wishing to add an element of gentle romance and nostalgia to their programme. The work is inspired in part by the view from my parents’ house, which overlooks the Aegean Sea, presenting a scene in which a calm sea gently rises and falls. The piano’s odd-metered and softly-articulated rhythmic figure evokes the irregular movements of the ocean’s surface, while passages that add repeated two-note semiquaver patterns in its upper staff mirror the glistening of sunlight on the water’s rippling contours. The peacefulness of Aegean is reinforced by the poise in the string writing that decorates the work’s unhurried journey. The violin and cello rhythmically intertwine, with softly expressive solo passages emerging throughout. The work becomes bathed in warmth, like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, sending light to play once again on the Aegean’s undulating surface. The strings finally merge into rhythmic unison, sharing the idyllic (and ultimately melancholic) melodic statement that concludes the work.

Whenever I've been present at rehearsals for this piece, my input has tended to be the same each time. I work with the musicians to create an overall serenity and calm. To achieve this desired effect, the playing in all instruments needs to be very stable and even. Even when it becomes busier in the middle section, the imagination should veer toward depicting the glassy smooth surface of the Aegean; serene and mesmerising.

The very end of the piece, where the violin and cello are in unison, is (to me) a very sad section of music. It has a sorrowful feeling of ending and finality. I am always reminded of the time my mother's final months when I hear the end of Aegean. I guess it's because the piece was created in the same year as her passing.

Very few ensembles get this piece just right. I've sometimes wondered if there is vital information missing in the score, but I don't think so. I think perhaps there is a tendency in ensembles to look for more than what there is, in the music, and to over-dramatise contours and particular events within the flow.

The aim is to create a calm and serene atmosphere; mesmerising, lost in reverie.....