Vestida de mar (Concerto for Violin and Wind Ensemble)
(2024)
22 minutes
Concerto for Violin and Wind Ensemble
Performance Information
Commissioned by Converse Wind Ensemble
World Premiere of Wind Ensemble Version. Francesca Anderegg, Violin. The Converse University Wind Ensemble. Arthur Haecker, Conductor.

Photo by Shifaaz shamoon on Unsplash
About
The genesis of this concerto lies in the geography of Puntarenas, Costa Rica—a peninsula jutting into the Pacific. Seeking to connect the music to the natural beauty of the coast, I turned to Latin American literature, specifically Pablo Neruda’s Canto General. This monumental compendium of poems, which catalogs the flora, fauna, and history of the Americas, provided the initial spark, particularly Neruda's writing on Rapa Nui (Easter Island). The concerto’s three movements act as a loose metaphor for the American experience, each reflecting one of the oceans that define our continent.
I. As I Ebb’d with the Ocean of Life
Taking its title from Walt Whitman, this movement represents the Atlantic Ocean and its deep-seated influence on North American culture. The violin begins in isolation with uneven arpeggios, gradually joined by other soloists as the texture shifts. A "quicksilver" melody emerges only to sink back into the depths, replaced by new fragments rising to the surface. After an intense climax, a frantic violin cadenza leads the soloist to disappear once more into the dark, deep sea.
II. Rapa Nui
Following the first movement without pause, we travel as if through a "wormhole" to the primordial middle of the Pacific. Inspired by Neruda’s descriptions of the imposing moai statues, the music evokes the remote mystery of Easter Island. The violin spins a melody that feels ancient and ancestral, while the orchestra provides an atmospheric commentary to create a haunting, intimate musical portrait.
III. El mar danzante (The Sea Dances)
The finale travels to the Caribbean Sea, embodying the region’s characteristic hybridity. The movement begins with a 17th-century European-style chorale—indebted to Biber’s Rosary Sonatas—before the "rug is pulled out" by a modified Cuban montuno. The two styles engage in a cheeky tug-of-war: a Cuban danzón is interrupted by a European waltz, creating a vibrant, perpetual motion. This movement captures the bewildering essence of the Caribbean: an uneasy yet exhilarating mixture of Europe, the Americas, and Africa, driving toward a rousing finale.