Composer’s Note:

clang clash roartakes its title from a line in the third section of Edgar Allan Poes The Bells. When read silently to oneself, the whole poem appears childishly absurd; almost forced and shallow in composition. When read aloud, with expression and attention to the meter and rhythm, it comes to life and, in the last two sections, manifests an atmosphere much larger than what the simplicity of the words would appear to present. The banality of the printed word contrasts in an extraordinary way to the ominous sound of the work as declaimed. A whole is created, though the grounds for this unity may not be readily apparent.