Album Notes

From recent reviews......

"...it was beautiful and the music was gorgeous. It seemed to make a big impression on the audience.Congratulations." (Celeste Headlee - National Public Radio)

"...beautiful music. Miss work if you must to make
this performance part of your day..."
(The Chris Felcyn Show - WDET National Public Radio)

"...an honest lyricism, and taste for drama. ... open hearted and songful.
...the songs themselves are full of intriguing shades of light and dark."
(Mark Stryker - The Detroit Free Press)

"...Magical, wondrous and beautiful, yet also cruel and confusing.
Emotions that can be heard thru his music"
(The Birmingham Eccentric)

Mark Gottlieb, a native of California, has composed for many different musical ensembles.
From short pieces for solo instruments to larger chamber ensembles to full orchestral concertos. Gottlieb's work has been performed in the U.S., Canada and in Europe as well as broadcast performances on National Public Radio and the Canadian Broadcast Corporation.
His string arrangements have been featured on the CDs of many local popular artists and were reviewed very favorably in Playboy Magazine.
In January of 2004 his musical drama "...and Summers Lasted 1000 Years" received 3 performances at the Macomb Center for the Performing Arts.
In April and May of 2004 a number of Gottlieb's chamber works were performed at two separate concerts in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.

His most recent project "Woodworker's Son" a CD compilation of his songs and chamber music, was reviewed very favorably in the Detroit Free Press.

He has recently been commissioned by noted violinist Jack Robbins to compose a violin concerto for performance March 2005 with the Birmingham/Bloomfield Symphony Orchestra.

Mr. Gottlieb is also known as an organizer of some very unique concert events including the benefit concert for R.A.W.A., a woman's rights organization in Afghanistan which featured a number of local artists in the classical, folk and pop fields. His "Great American Folk Song Concert was a performance of the traditional folk songs of American performed in the styles of a number of classical and popular musicians in the Detroit area.

Mr. Gottlieb resides in Royal Oak, Michigan with his wife Cheryl.




"Mark Gottlieb, Woodworker's Son" is a compilation of Mark's Chamber Music, including his String Quartet in d minor, Sextet for Clarinet, Piano and String Quartet, his song cycle "Is This Eden?" for soprano and piano, and a number of other compositions for Chamber Ensemble.




* Sextet for Clarinet, Piano and String Quartet
* Adagio
* Allegro
* Presto


Originally composed for one of my closest friends, Jerry Eisenberg, for clarinet and piano. I received a generous commission from George Vincent (Grosse Pointe, Michigan) to arrange it for addition of a string quartet. This work was premiered January 2001 at the Grosse Pointe Memorial in commemoration of the 300th anniniversy of the City of Detroit.

* In Memorium - for Piano and Cello
Composed in memory of a dear friend and performed at her funeral in 1986.

* For Nadine - A Solo Cello Piece
I was asked to compose a short solo for my friend Nadine (cellist on Woodworkers Son) to celebrate the 100th birthday of her cello.

* Is This Eden - soprano and piano
In 1989 was commissioned to compose a short song cycle for soprano Julianna James who was singing with the Stuttgart Opera in Germany. I was originally sent a number of poems by American poets in the hope that I would find something I felt strongly enough to set to music. I like the poems but didn't hear music in any of them. I decided to write my own text. I always compose the music first to any vocal music I compose. I write the voice part along with the rest of the composition. Only when the work is complete do I go back and set the music with words that suite how the music has affected me.
* 5. The Glade
I was walking home from a market when i was about 9 years old and came upon a dog that had been injured. No one was home at my house. I could see the dog was very close to death. I attempted to get people nearby to help me. No good. I went to a shop and called the police as I didn't know an animal shelter number. The police said they would send someone out. I waited and waited near the animal. Ran home to get a bowl of water. When I got back to the dog it had died.

The text;
Alone in a glade a small fawn lies bleeding. Alone and cold it struggles to breathe.
No feelings it has of me, if feelings at all. I can not help. I can not move. I only wait.
And what is this thing? Is it part of me?
The earth below the bleeding fawn grows warm as it lies dying.
And calls the clouds to cleanse the ground we tread on.
In all I dreamed of, For all I am.
I can not help. I can not move I only wait.
And what of me, must I remain alone?
Dusk brings the cool night air as the forest grows. It al-ways grows and goes on and on.

* 6. The Night
Reminds of my first time camping in a real forest. It was not at all quiet at night.

The text;
How the forest looms over me. God, I'll never find my way.
As the moonlight fills the night, dancing shapes be-fore my eyes.
Fleeting shadows fill my head, eyes of wolves become to bright.
Running rodents hurry by, dark, yet their colors flash and shine.
Life begins to sing, ah Here the joys of my heart now swell, ah
What is this how night explodes! I thought at night one slept.
Very lit-tle here will sleep. All this life, all my life and it carries me away.
Gentle night in truth is strong. Sleep! Who can sleep when the trees surround?


* 7. Is This Eden
This is my attempt at understand and accept how life around us is full of all the good and all the bad. And how seemingly futile it seems to argue with God to demand he grant us only the good and comfortable.

The text;
Can you show me the way to Eden? Can you show me the way?
Often it feels I have a-rrived there. Often still it is not like that at all.
I can see the great trees growing ever skyward.
And I see the child of a bird that lies crushed on the ground. Is this Eden? Is this Eden?
And the green and lush meadows, endless, fragrant with flowers that hid the big cat
waiting to kill and eat the gen-tle deer. Is this Eden? Is this Eden?
I have climbed the highest mountains that crown the Earth with splendor and glory that frame a sky on fire.
Yet embrace me in their cold winds, isolation, naked aloneness, alone.
Is this Eden? Is this Eden? It this? Is it?
In one moment I can see all of the pain and all of the beauty.
It is true then that a half a god is no god at all.





* When Autumn Never Ends - for soprano, piano and string quartet.
After I heard Jennifer Larson sing "The Glade" from the "...Eden" cycle I decided to compose a set of songs specifically for Jennifer©ˆs voice. The music was inspired by the death of my mother. As I visited here on her last few days of life I sat with her. I read a bit, talked with her a bit, I even played a couple of tunes on my practice chanter. She would come in and out of consciousness. "When Autumn Never Ends" was composed in her memory. The work was premiered at a "Tuesday Musicale of Detroit Artists Series" concert in February 2003. The work will be performed again this October at the Vivace Chamber Music Series Farmington Hills, Michigan.
* 8. A Light Descends
I tried to imagine the cosmology of birth. The question of what a soul is and it's origin always end up taking me into the furthest depths of space in my imagination. Are we really make up of bits of stardust? That is what I am asking here.

The text;
Beyond the stars a light descends and fills my mother's womb.
Her blood breaths life into my heart, my mind and my soul.
Awakes from distant sleep. I feel the sun arise.
My soul, awake. The earth turns green. I feel the sun arise.


* 9. I Hear the Dogs
This describes the life around my home as a kid and what my mother must have gone through dealing with her 4 boys and the rest of our neighborhood. It was different then. We had fields to play in and could spend all day wandering around the neighborhood and much further beyond. And I always remembered on weekends, for some reason, a bunch of the neighborhood dogs would be out in a pack running all over and I loved it.

The text;
I hear the dogs howling. I see the grass is growing higher.
My house, it needs mending. There goes my children starting fires now.
And who's to blame for my world. I won't stop them from playing in the dirt.
Am I to blame for my life. Will my savior carry me away?
My neighbors are dancing. They ask me if I'll share my brandy.
They bring me cold water. But will I ever put the fire out?
And now the dogs start to howl. Will they ever let me get to sleep?
I remember my first nightmare. Something calls out in the darkness.
And I remember crying out. Alone I faced the worst of them.
As I would wake up and run from the night.
I remember the night as black as ink as the stars seemed to float upon my hair.
By the door there's a dog that's crying. Is it my boy or is this part of a dream?
Enough! Bring me a stick. Dear God! Open my door.
The Dogs run through the night. Their howls comfort me.
I wait for dawn and as I wait I'll throw the dog a bone.
I hear the dogs howling. The land I dwell is growing colder.
The sun will grow dimmer. Until that time I'll join my neighbor's dance.
I'll take the blame for my life. I won't stop them from playing in the dirt.


* 10. When Autumn Never Ends
My attempt to put myself into the mind of a dying person. In this case my mother. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be on the last few hours of life and have your loved ones near. You would not have the energy to respond to their words or barely enough energy to even open your eyes. Every once of your remaining strength would be about taking another miserably feeble breath. I thought about what it is like to ride my bike up a huge hill and arrive at the top totally exhausted with barely the strength to talk or stand until I can catch my breath. Then I multiplied that sensation about 500 times to get an idea of the last few moments of life when you try to get that last breath. Yet your brain is clear enough to recall your life. You are not certain if it is day or night, if the voices you hear around you are the actual sounds of your loved ones or your dreams but you mind does work.

The text;
I sleep eternal dreams when autumn never ends and there is no day or night.
The sky never changes and the bright stars of Andromeda shine over me.
I hear the angel's song. I cannot see her face.
Oh where are my sons and where is my love?
Oh God, how I long for spring.
My world all around me life awakened.
The light of a billion stars embraced me and my heart was strong.
Oh how I want to live.
My past, like a tender blossom opened and the earth was green.
I never saw the leaves were dying or felt my spirit slip away.
Feel my heart bleeding, walk with me slowly.
I can see summer is gone.
I'll hear my father sing beyond the gates of Heaven.
I'll see my mother dance with God and all the angels.
And I shall seek peace for my children when salvation sets me free.
I can feel the stars shine. And I can hear the voices of my children.
I know that I will always dream forever.




* I Have Awoken - for narrator and string quartet.
In early 2001 I saw a documentary entitled "Women Behind the Veil". It was about the life of women in Afghanistan during the reign of the Taliban. Most every one knows how they were treated. Organization called the Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan (RAWA) held a number of demonstrations in support of the rights of women under fundamentalist Islam. RAWA set up schools and medical clinics for women and girls in Quetta, Pakistan, a boarding town. During a during a demonstration in Quetta the women were attacked by men with sticks and clubs. Many were beaten severely. When compelled me to get involved was seeing the smiles from the men who were doing the beating. They were enjoying them selves. I decided to send RAWA a small donation. I never got about to it. Finally after 9/11 I didn©ˆt think of it at all. Then a few months later I thought rather than send them a few dollars of my own I would hold a benefit concert for them and send them the proceeds. I was able to get a number of great performers to join me. The program included classical to pop to folk. The hall was packed and we were able to send RAWA a fine amount. In my research about RAWA I found that the founder of the organization, a young woman named Meena (no last name) was murdered by Islamic fundamentalists in 1987. The poem was written by her. I set her text, to be read, for a string quartet. It was quite interesting to get to know these woman who are still involved with RAWA and fighting for women's rights in the face of fundamentalist Islamic dogma. The current director of RAWA, Marina, calls me her brother.

* La Princesa de Primavera - for soporano and small chamber orchestra.
This song is taken from my dramatic song cycle "...and Summers Lasted 1000 Years". The music was composed one evening in about 20 minutes. It was wonderful. Just after I finished it my friend, Nadine Deleury, paid me an unexpected visit. I called her into my music room and said "look what I just finished". The text was later set by Latino singer/songwriter Cruz.
The translation is as follows;

Tell me of yesterday, of your childhood, of your family.
I would like to know if you were the spring princess.
And when you smiled did the sun come out and the clouds leave the sky?
That is how I remember you.