Mountains Rising Everywhere
by Paul Rudy
Band - Grade 5
2024 – 9'
$24.00 (score)
$138.00 (full set)
Mountains Rising Everywhere is an homage of sorts to Joseph Schwantner’s And the Mountains Rising Nowhere which rocked my world when I heard it at age 26 in my first composition class. I had played in band all the way through college, but had never heard anything like Schwantner’s work before. “If this is what music can be,” I said to myself, "then, I want to make it!!" I wrote my first composition in that class, and the rest, they say is history.
When I was younger, I climbed all 54 of Colorado’s 14,000 ft. peaks and loved being on the tundra. My favorite days were those spent on a mountain where I didn’t see anyone all day long, and Schwanter’s music really captured some of those favorite experiences. Being on the tundra, and alone is, to this day, one of my favorite places to be. So when I had the chance to go to Alaska, my second to last state, I jumped at it! I knew I would see mountains rising everywhere, especially going on an adventure with Composing in the Wilderness, and I was not disappointed.
The bush plane flight into Port Alsworth and Lake Clark National Park was through one of the most striking glaciered mountain passes imaginable. There was something new, and wonderful about being in a place that can only be arrived at in a plane! And then, a float plane took us deeper into Lake Clark National Park for a six-day adventure with hiking and kayaking. As the plane flew away, the feeling of being at a place few others had ever been on Lower Tazimina Lake was wonderful and exhilarating. I got that pit in my stomach I used to get when heading off at a trail-head to summit a mountain.
There was no camping where they dropped us, so we inflated the kayaks and paddled for an hour and a half until our guide found a suitable place to camp. I was expecting the grand views of mountains and glaciers, and Alaska did not disappoint, but the miniature landscape of lichens and tundra plants at our first camp site took me by complete surprise. With each step, I felt like I was trampling upon a miniature Pandora-esque civilization. It was one of the most intricate, delicate, and yet resilient landscapes I have ever seen. Each morning when I opened my tent, I was surprised to see that it had snowed, only to realize that “snow” is the natural color of caribou lichen, a primary occupant of the tundra carpet of Alaska. So, on a trip where I expected my gaze to constantly be upward and summit-focused, I was pleasantly surprised to be constantly enthralled with what was under my feet.
And so, with mountains rising everywhere, I enjoyed mostly, the intimacy of the miniature plant life underfoot. If adventure is encountering the unexpected, well, this experience with Composing in the Wilderness came through in a most the most novel and magical way.
