“Wherever you come near the human race there’s layers and layers of nonsense.”

That’s what the Stage Manager says in Thornton Wilder’s “Our Town.” I guess he should know.

I can’t speak for other composers. Speaking only for myself, I’d suggest that a good place for composers to start is to look closely at their geographical location and then ask themselves, “If this place were to be expressed in MUSIC, what would that music sound like?”

That is where I started fifty years ago when we lived in Bellville, Ohio, a village of 1500. The result was that I wrote one of my best pieces, “Four Seasons in Bellville” for violin, cello and piano.

Nowadays we live in the semi-countryside between Mariemont and Newtown, Ohio, just east of Cincinnati. We’re “smack dab” (one of the delightful American expressions) in the middle of the valley carved out long since by the Little Miami River. True to form, I’ve been writing music about this place.

Today I want to share some of it, music that is very new. Newly written -- I completed it in January -- and newly recorded -- three weeks ago. And last week, the music was given its premiere radio broadcast on our local WGUC’s “New at Noon” series.

The time frame bears mentioning because no work of mine has ever moved so quickly from completion to recording to broadcast. All in about ten weeks. Usually, years are required!

It happened this fast because the three friends for whom I wrote this music were eager to rehearse and record it … and because WGUC is receptive to broadcasting new music

The piece is titled “Two Scenes from the Valley of the Little Miami.” It is scored for French horn, viola and cello. Today we’ll hear the first “scene” which I titled “The River in January.” (Next week, I’ll share the second, titled “The Bike Trail in June.”)

The Little Miami valley is a designated Scenic Corridor. (I’m not entirely sure what that means but it sure sounds good!) The river is about 3/4 of a mile distant from our home but the bike trail lies about a hundred yards from our front door. I can hop on my bike and be on the trail in less than a minute! What a joy.

And here we are -- in April! Which is to say, halfway between January and June, the months depicted in this piece. It’s a good time to discover this music because it prompts both a backward glimpse and a forward look -- back to January, then forward to June!

You are almost the first to listen to this music. Only those who caught the broadcast have heard it before this morning.

Now you might think, “But the musicians who recorded it have heard it.” Yes, but I know from experience that when musicians are playing music they are so concentrated on playing their part correctly that, while they obviously HEAR the music, they cannot really listen to it. Hearing is different than listening. Listening will happen later when the recording they have made reaches their ears.

The introduction is played only by the viola and cello, a sombre, hesitant music, evoking the partially frozen river and the bare trees on either side of it. Then, at :58, the French horn enters with the majestic main theme of the piece, cast in the monumental key of E flat.

The music is noble and just a tad wistful, like January itself, I fancy. The theme is developed, the other instruments often repeating, in canon, the phrases the horn has played. “Imitative” is the term for that. The harmonies shift, with a dramatic key change at 2:54.

The theme is “lost” at times, but then “recovered” as it returns, chiefly in the horn and most dramatically at 4:21 when a full-blown recapitulation takes place, the horn leading the way. The horn “owns” the tune!

Sometimes composers are inspired by their own music. When I heard this piece being rehearsed I was struck by the beauty of those three instruments -- horn, viola, cello -- playing together. I thought, what if there was also an oboe singing above the other instruments. And what if there were TWO horns?

I was soon writing music for those FIVE instruments, another new piece which I titled “For Golden Friends I Had.” It will be recorded later this month and I hope to share it with you soon afterwards.

Meanwhile, to listen to “The River in January,” as recorded by the very musicians for whom it was written -- French horn player Doug Jones, violist Rose Gowda and cellist Michael Ronstadt -- click on the link above. There's also a link to a PDF of the score.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
April 12, 2026
www.sowash.com

🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶

Last week I shared some music that is newly written -- I completed it in January -- and newly recorded -- just a month ago. Then, two weeks ago, the piece got its premiere radio broadcast on WGUC’s “New at Noon” series.

The time frame bears mentioning because it marks the speediest progression, ever, of a work of mine going from completion to recording to broadcast. All in about a ten weeks.

Usually, it takes years!

It happened this fast because the three friends for whom I wrote it happily found the time to rehearse and record it … and because WGUC is eager to broadcast new music.

The piece is titled “Two Scenes from the Valley of the Little Miami.” It is scored for French horn, viola and cello. Today we’ll listen to the second “scene,” titled “The Bike Trail in June.”

Our old house (built in 1830) reposes in the Little Miami valley, a designated Scenic Corridor. The river is 3/4 of a mile distant but the bike trail is only a hundred yards from our front door. I can hop on my bike and be on the trail in less than a minute! What a joy!

And here we are -- in April! Which is to say, halfway between January and June, the months depicted in this piece. It’s a good time to discover this music because it prompts both a backward glimpse and a forward look -- back to January, then forward to June!

It’s been a week since you listened to the first movement. But you may realize, listening to this second movement, that the same theme you heard in the “January” movement last week has been transformed for this “June” movement.

Instead of slow, introspective music, evoking the partially frozen river, bare trees on either side, you will hear an exuberant, energetic music evoking the trail, abounding with walkers and bikers, on a beautiful June day.

There is no introduction. The horn sounds the theme “right off the bat” and immediately begins to develop.

The piece is “horn friendly” in that it is cast in the key of E flat which “lies well” for the instrument. So well that three of Mozart’s four horn concertos are also cast in E flat.

The movement is a rondo … which is to say that after the opening theme is presented, another contrasting theme is heard. Then a return to the opening theme. Then ANOTHER contrasting them is heard. Then the opening theme returns again.

A standard form of classical music, the rondo is outlined, thus: A - B - A - C - A, each letter denoting a different theme. Mozart generally employs the form in the final movement of a multi-movement work ... so that is what I did here.

I am indebted to Mozart; I stand humbly with him, a pipsqueak perched on the shoulder of a giant. To my ear, this music sounds both Mozartian and American, as if Wolfgang visited here and picked up something he wanted to convey.

To listen to “The Bike Trail in June,” as recorded by the very musicians for whom it was written -- French horn player Doug Jones, violist Rose Gowda and cellist Michael Ronstadt -- click on the link above. There's also a link to a PDF of the score.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
April 19, 2026
www.sowash.com