On October 14, 2025, I had the joy of presenting a guest artist lecture-recital at Tarrant County College Northwest Campus. The program was designed to offer students a glimpse into the clarinet’s expressive range—through works from five different musical periods, each introduced with a short spoken note.
The experience was equal parts performance and conversation, and I left feeling incredibly grateful for the opportunity.
One movement at a time
Rather than performing full-length works, I chose to present a single movement from each piece—allowing us to explore contrast, color, and character, all within a compact format.
We began with Carl Maria von Weber’s Grand Duo Concertant. Often viewed as a bridge between Classical clarity and Romantic drama, this piece gives equal weight to both clarinet and piano. It’s dramatic and virtuosic—almost operatic. In fact, many moments feel like a duet between two singers.
Next came Johannes Brahms’s Sonata No. 2 in E-flat Major, second movement. Brahms had nearly retired from composing when he encountered clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld. So inspired by his playing, Brahms returned to writing and gifted the world four clarinet masterpieces. This Allegro appassionato is compact, fiery, and deeply lyrical—expressive without needing extra explanation.
Then we moved into the 20th century, with the third movement of Francis Poulenc’s Clarinet Sonata. This was one of his final works, written for Benny Goodman. Sadly, Poulenc passed before the premiere, which ended up being performed by Goodman and Leonard Bernstein. The movement is filled with Poulenc’s signature charm—sharp rhythms, emotional turns, and flashes of unexpected tenderness.
From there, we dove into Jörg Widmann’s Fantasie for Clarinet Solo, written in 1993 and now considered a modern staple. It’s a piece that asks: what happens when we push the clarinet to its limits? With multiphonics, flutter-tongue, glissando, and theatrical outbursts, the piece is wild, imaginative, and unapologetically contemporary.
To close the evening, I chose something light-hearted: Adolf Schreiner’s Immer Kleiner (Always Smaller). There’s no deeper meaning here—it’s simply fun. And sometimes, that’s the best reason to play something.
Behind the scenes
I was fortunate to be joined by Daria Kiselesa, a DMA pianist from Texas Christian University, whose collaboration brought warmth and clarity to every piece. We had been preparing this recital since late August, with support from Director Benson Lee, who first reached out with the invitation.
Everything—from rehearsal logistics to program design—was thoughtfully coordinated. I truly appreciated the care and welcome from the TCC community.
Conversations that matter
One of the most memorable parts of the evening came after the music ended. During the Q&A session, students asked insightful questions about clarinet techniques, musical decision-making, and even professional development. Their curiosity was energizing—and reminded me that performance can open up space for dialogue, not just applause.
As an educator and performer, I always hope for moments like these. When music becomes not just something to listen to, but something to ask about.
A closing note
This recital reminded me that sharing music isn’t just about presenting something polished—it’s about building bridges between people, ideas, and sound. I’m grateful to TCC Northwest for making space for that kind of experience.
And I hope it’s just the beginning of more musical conversations to come.