orchestra; duration ca. 11′

      Topatopa began as a project to write a new “frame” around a chunk of material from an older chamber piece of mine – a two-ish minute songlike section, plaintive and mildly folksy, which drew generously on Americana and indie folk. The music before and after this central section was to create a musical cutaway of sorts, as foreshadowings and echoes of its material variously emerged, dissolved, and snowballed out of control.

      As I worked on the piece, however, I began to feel I was no longer the same composer who wrote the original section, and that the musical object I was picking apart was no longer wholly my own. This sense of dialogue with and distance from my former self led to a piece about memory, interiority, and fluidity, with the music never feeling quite comfortable in its own nostalgia.

      The piece takes its title from the Topatopa Mountains in my native Ventura County, California, which are very visible in the distance while walking or driving around my hometown. After three years living on the East Coast, the range’s iconic, angular ridges are a comforting sight and a symbol of home for me.